Hello Charlie,
You are most welcome. Glad someone from Pedal Pusher remembers me and my involvement there.
In the Newport Beach-Huntington Beach areas during the 1970s and then into the 1980s there was:
• first Larry McNeely's "Re-Cycled Cycles"
• then Bob Lundy's "Bob's Bike Shop"
• then Gertrude Vorgang's "Pedal Pusher"
• then Dan Eiesert's "Cycle & Company" (this one didn't last long)
• then Carl Tahti and Bob Jones' "Goat Hill Bicycle Works" (this one lasted longer, but still not very long)
All of these shops specialized in vintage stuff and swapped items back & forth with one another. Most initially were still selling off loads brought back from Chicago, NorCal, the Pacific Northwest and New Mexico.
Yes... seems to me that Pee-Wee was on more than one episode of "The Dating Game." Fun to see it anyway. Paul Reubens autographed a photo for Mike Vorgang and it was left in the front window of the store until the photo faded in the beach sunlight.
Finally, much is made about Schwinn and Pee-Wee's bicycle being made out of a Schwinn. BUT... in the movie and even in some of the press photos taken from the scene when Pee-Wee visits a bicycle dealer feature another brand. The logo for "MURRAY" is featured prominently on the shop window! Fact.
Regards,
Leon Dixon
National Bicycle History Archive of America
Hello Leon,
(I was writing a quick reply but got sucked down memory lane, so here are some recollections for the CABE, more a ramble than a coherent history of the time or of Pedal Pusher and the Pee-Wee bikes.)
Thank you for sharing your memories of the start of the hobby in the ‘70s and ‘80s when so many went crazy for the bikes that you had already been seriously collecting. The first Pee-Wee bike was not for the film, just a powder-coated eye-catcher for one of Pedal Pusher’s large front windows that faced 23rd Street, the only one-way street from the Newport Pier and Dory Fleet parking lot. I should also mention that it would have been awful if the original Pee-Wee photo that was signed by Paul Reubens for Mike Vorgang was put in the window to bleach away… it was pretty special to Gertrude and Mike, so Gertrude made copies and put a copy in the window and also included a Xerox of that photo in the vintage literature compilation "books" that we sold at the shop. Nobody officially cleaned the windows, but I took it on when it was desperately needed and there was no reverence for that taped picture!
We could have been in the credits for the film and were offered two prices for the 12 bikes, 25K or thousands less if we were included in the credits. I wanted to see the shop in the credits since we were providing so many bikes and it could have been excellent advertising, easily leading to more bike finds and sales no matter what the film was about. I tried to convince Gertrude of this, but she decided that it was better to go for more money. This is understandable since we were a small business, not some rich concern, and depended on the very profitable renting of “beach cruisers” (credit the term to Larry McNeely!) and the loads of NOS parts, vintage balloon bikes, etc. coming in from the rest of the country. The word was out, and pickers and collectors were scouring the barns and basements for choice bikes and dragging many of them to California. (Mike Wolfe helped keep us going with great loads from the Midwest starting in the mid-eighties.) CNN gave us more exposure when they did a piece on the shop sometime in the early ‘80s and the phone rang with great leads. I would love to see that video of all of us again if anyone knows how to find it. . .
We built bikes for the prop rooms too and those bikes used a lot of the odd and leftover parts that were always piling up in the shop. High-end restorations were probably the least profitable endeavor since everything had to be correct, or as close as possible. As most of us in the hobby have experienced, chrome plating can be disastrous in so many ways–if you even get the part back. Painting was another area that would bog us down. Aside from the frustrations and customers wanting their bike done as fast as a microwave meal, to this day, I am not sure that we actually made much money on the higher-end restorations. This is why I so respect the work of Bob Ujszaszi, Tom Clark, and the other amazing artists who are dedicated to the most accurate restorations possible.
There have been a lot of questions about the parts on those bikes, but as you noted the bikes were not identical. This was due to the difficulty of finding at least 12 of all the parts needed... We were scrambling for DX frames and tanks. (Some of the bikes may have the later springers and I think we even used some of the Taiwan knock-offs on the Pee-Wee bikes we built after the film was released.) Closer to the production deadline, we ran out of room throwing them together in the repair area, so if you came by, you saw the front of the shop become a minefield of frames, springers, and parts, an OSHA nightmare for sure! When the film opened, all of us were at the first showing, and barely aware of the plot. All we cared about was our bikes and we flipped out when they were in danger or damaged. I never watched the film again.
You bring up a remarkable period in the hobby. Larry McNeely’s first Re-Cycled Cycles on PCH by the Frog House in Newport Beach was amazing and he was young, cool, and connected with his mostly younger clientele. He did a great job of promoting the hobby and hooked me! There was a restored Iver Johnson in his shop window that I so wanted but couldn’t afford. I don't remember the exact year of his first swap meet right behind his shop, but I'm sure you do! Lots of teens and their fathers were at that meet, including my dad, brother, and me. Overall, attendees looked quite a bit younger than what I see at our meets today. (All of us collectors need to bring our kids and grandkids to the bike meets and rides!) This was the time that legendary hoards of parts left over from the '30s to the '50s were still in distributor warehouses, old bike shops, hardware stores, etc. across the country… parts that they would often gladly sell for the original wholesale prices just to clear them out. You were at the front of that rush, of course. I wish I could go back to the thrift shops back then with their rows of balloon tire bikes that would have otherwise been destined for the dumps of America. A kid on the cheap could go hit a few garage sales or just about any swapmeet on the weekend and find a worthy project to restore and keep, or flip. Maybe that is a big reason why our hobby is turning a bit gray: the cost of entry now is just too high for kids. The crowds at lowrider bike shows are much, much younger, in part I think because, unlike the vintage stuff, many youngsters can afford to build a lowrider from scratch on their budgets.
The vintage bike shops did come and go, and you remind us that they all got along so well!
I guess I missed out on Bob Lundy’s shop. Maybe it was further away from the beach?
The Eisert's, Cycle & Company, was a friendly father and son effort up Newport Blvd, close to OC Speedway track. That shop was full of a unique mix of vintage bicycles, parts, and the Jawa speedway motorcycles which they were always tuning, racing, and rebuilding. Somewhere, they got NOS postwar locking springers and other boxed wonders. They had a lot of the raw materials, like old frames, forks, and cranks, just stuff.
Goat Hill on 17th in Newport brought in a fantastic load of some of the rarest prewar Schwinn balloon parts. Those who owned and studied the ‘41 parts catalog and all the other literature were at an advantage there. Kenny Blackburn scored Aerocycle horn buttons and hanging cantilever tanks, and I expect that you found a lot of true treasures there and have many stories!
There was also a shop at the base of the Balboa Pier, in a round building, gone now, Oceanfront Wheel Works, where Scott had a selection of vintage bike parts and some bikes to augment his bike, skate, and Boogie Board rentals. In the ‘80s, the boardwalk was alive into the night and the shop rented beach cruisers and skates until 10 PM on weekends during the summer.
That these shops were less than 10 miles apart, centered in Newport and Huntington, most close to the boardwalk speaks to the connections to beach culture, surfing, and the need for bikes that one can roll out and dump on the sand, bikes that were unique and made for easy boardwalk cruising. Most teens back then could easily get a job or a newspaper route, flip bikes, or maybe had flush SoCal parents who could fund the obsession. My parents were NOT flush, so in addition to Pedal Pusher, I would occasionally help in the evenings at Oceanfront Wheel Works and afternoons during high school and college at a local BMX company. Summers were full-time at Pedal Pusher for years. Good times!
Gertrude and Mike Vorgang were the heart of the hobby in SoCal, especially when Larry McNeely closed shop. Gertrude was the kindest person you could ever know, buying lunch for us every day at the shop and giving us the first shot at some amazing parts and bikes. She loved the bikes, studied the literature, and she loved the people. I think her favorite thing about Pedal Pusher was visiting with the collectors. Whatever she was doing, she had time to visit with the regulars on their rickety rustbuckets, over-restored Phantoms, and boardwalk amazements. The Whizzer folks too stopped on their rides. If you came in from out of state, she might be with you for over an hour, and longer if you brought a load of bikes and parts. At the most random times, her husband, Henry would stop by in his enormous Cadillac on his way to or from his Old World Art Gallery. He would exuberantly break into singing parts from an opera, see Gertrude (and her savage parrot that I once thought I could trust), and be out the door in minutes. “Go with God, but go!” he boomed. They made a perfect couple, each as unique as their small businesses, adored each other and their sons. A few times, Gertrude and Henry both spoke about losing family to the Holocaust. I don’t know for sure, but it may be why they lived so fully and were so generous at heart. When I was living on my own and was sick, Henry came by with medicine and food. They were family. David was the older son, and the calmer, quieter, and more studious one. The store must have seemed like a sitcom to him. He seemed to see beyond all the distractions of the shop, not that he didn’t like the bikes but he was more focused on responsible things like being a good student. His maturity was in stark juxtaposition with the rest of us!
Mike was everywhere all the time, and even more enthusiastic than his father. The entire population of Newport Beach seemed to know Mike and got a discount on everything in the shop. The constant party atmosphere of Zooport Beach did not make for the best place to grow up for many. The girls were crazy for Mike which was fine with him. Mike was the only one who could do decent pinstriping though even he would get frustrated with it. He was as kind as his parents and happy at the shop but just as happy to take off with some friends. If something needed to be picked up or dropped off, Mike was ready to go. I started with them around 1976 at the first shop off Balboa Blvd by volunteering to help with repairing bikes while customers were waiting on a Saturday and that turned into a weekend job through high school and then more hours through the late ‘80s. Somewhere in the early ‘80s, we moved to the larger location on 23rd St. by the Newport Pier. The Pee-Wee bikes were built there. We started selling the Laguna BMX Cruisers and some Fisher MTBs as that took off. Even some of the early mountain bikers came by too looking for frames, Morrows, and drum brakes. Joe Breeze visited and gave me a brass “Breezer” head badge that I still treasure.
Gertrude offered to sell me the shop around 1988, but we couldn’t even decide what it was worth, so then we talked about her getting a percentage of the profits for an undetermined period of time. As much as I loved it, I felt that it would become harder to find NOS parts for cheap, pay the beach location rent, and keep it going. I could marry the shop or marry my wife who was in the Peace Corps serving in a remote mountain village in Nepal. I flew to Nepal. Later, Larry Kiehl ended up with the shop. He had been a regular at the shop as far as I can remember, and he would buy or find a buyer for almost any clean Schwinn DX. I am sure we called him first when we got the order for the Pee-Wee bikes. . .
Many of my best friends to this day, I met at Pedal Pusher, the Whiz-ins, and meets done by Doc, Tyler & the Simonians, etc. Bob Ujszaszi, Mike Shickler, Jim Tusko, Tyler Carlson, Tim Elder, Ray Shemanski, Kenny Blackburn, and so many others are still serious collectors and restorers 40 years later. Our passion has an important mission to preserve and share the unique history of the American bicycle industry and celebrate the designs and engineering as it developed and flourished through the last century. I hope we can interest and inspire more new and younger collectors to join this amazing hobby.
Leon, Thank you for sharing your memories of the start of the Balloon Tire Bike Renaissance and being there before the rest of us. I look forward to reading your book!
All the best,
Charlie
**By the way, If anyone has seen Mike Vorgang, please let me know. His brother, David, has lost contact with him. Mike is probably in the area around Oceanside or maybe San Diego. . . I have also lost track of some of my friends and co-workers at the Pedal Pusher and hope to hear from them. . .