PLEASE ACCEPT MY RESIGNATION. I DON’T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT PEOPLE LIKE ME AS A MEMBER
Sometime in 1976, a bunch of hippies set fire to the coaster brake hubs of their hacked together fat tyre bikes, burning down fire trails in Marin County, just outside San Fransisco.
These riders changed the cycling world; jeans and blood and moto handlebars.
But something went wrong. After not so many years, the mountain bike, as a machine of radical connectedness and alternative cycling culture, was absorbed into the cycling hegemony. Lycra, narrow bars and racing UP hills.
The Clandestine Clunker Club exists as a mythical alternative to that world.
The CCC resist the invasion of corporatism into our riding life.
The CCC come with shit coaster brakes, and £13 motocross bars from ebay.
The CCC come with DIY, recycled, shonky laughs.
The CCC come with punk rock.
WE ARE THE CLANDESTINE CLUNKER CLUB
AND WE DO NOT EXIST.