A (sometimes) guilty obsession.
I can clearly remember that Saturday afternoon in 2001 sitting on my sofa at home and waiting to be picked up by a friend of mine and his wife for a night out. I was searching for mountain bike parts on Ebay, and for no reason whatsoever, I decided to change my search term to “Haro Master”. It was a profound moment. I found an internet store that looked like the bike shop that I couldn’t afford to shop in when I was a kid, and by the following Wednesday, my garage was stacked high with branded boxes that I hadn’t laid eyes on for twenty-five years. In a split second, BMX had flooded into my adult life, and a joyful new obsession had begun.
Back then, the collecting scene was quite different to what we see today. It mainly consisted of ex neighbourhood and shop sponsored riders from different parts of the world who had reconnected to BMX in a similar way to myself. In those days there were no Retro re-releases, ride-outs, or Facebook groups, we basically dropped anchor on a couple of internet forums and shared information that we derived from the era correct bikes we found, or the dog-eared magazines that our parents still had in the loft. Ebay became our least preferred market place, but most understood that to “score”, or find the bargains that had no perceived value to the uneducated seller, it was a necessary resource and we capitalised. But the common theme in those days was a collective thirst for knowledge. It seemed like every old brand – Race and Freestyle alike – had a small group of dedicated experts who were obsessively researching and sharing their findings. A sense of camaraderie developed that still astounds me when I look back. A group of forty something year old guys, deciphering serial numbers, matching paint codes and pestering the overworked graphic designer in the group to make decals. An honour system developed, and we became a community. The weird and wonderful shaped parcels started flowing through the international mail system, attempting to dodge “destination” taxes and VAT charges, as we defied logic and trusted people we had never met with large sums of cash.
It is never easy to justify the necessary activities of the vintage BMX Collector. Long hours of apparently staring blankly at a computer screen. The justification and skill involved in getting the wife to agree to the almost inexplicable purchases. The packages that went to a friend’s place, in a bid to dodge these sensitive negotiations. And the hoarding, my god the hoarding. I was a huge offender.
I own very little now in the way of bikes and parts, but I still have a unique connection to the scene through the projects I have delivered and worked on for Haro and now Vans. And although we never invented the sport of BMX, I do believe that the activities of the collecting community in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s was the driving force behind the resurgence of interest, and the re-entry of some of the legendary riders and industry figureheads that we see in the space today. Some were already deep in the scene; some had never left. And for these reason, BMX collecting fucking rules.
Dom Phipps
Bend, Oregon.
October 2015.