I don't exactly consider my beloved '86 Schwinn Peloton a beater bike, but I relish the Schwinn's lack of street-cred. Some folks consider it quaint and assume their 2018 new-as-now carbon technomarvel will automatically coast away from the old steel sled.
What people forget is that if they are able to hold this 23+ pound bike's wheel, their triumph is diminished.
And of course when they fall back, my triumph is magnified because my little donkey just trounced their overpriced thoroughbred.
I even love that the Schwinn name has been dragged into the Walmart mud lately, and these younger riders assume I'm a harmless geezer on a Huffy at stoplights.
I know it's petty and childish, but it's one of the things I dearly love about cycling and can seldom resist humiliating elitists.
