Model year 1993 | Tange Infinity | Shimano LX
More than fifty years ago, a BMX frame came to life under Gary Turner’s hands. With love and care (of that I’m absolutely convinced), Gary welded it for his son Craig. I don’t know whether he had any idea back then what he was getting himself into. In any case, things moved fast. In 1979 he brought in a partner, Richard Long, and together they founded GT Bicycles. Five years later they began producing their first mountain bikes, and by the early nineties they had become one of the driving forces of the entire field—whether measured in market success or technological innovation.
For many enthusiasts, GT’s aura is inseparably tied to the pioneer of bike trials and extreme mountain bike mischief, Hans “No Way” Rey—an icon among the most iconic. But it wasn’t only him tirelessly spreading the GT gospel back then. Teammates Juli Furtado, Nicolas Vouilloz, and Mike King also belonged to the world’s elite at the time, among the most visible athletes in a rocket-fast growing cycling industry.
No wonder GT Bicycles enjoys enormous respect among collectors. I’m no exception. In my personal pantheon sit the cult classics: the steel Psyclone, the aluminium Zaskar, and the titanium Xizang and Lightning. For now, though, I make do with dreaming, and what brings me joy is a 1993 GT Karakoram in Ferrari Red, in the colour it isn’t printed in the catalogue. In my collection, this heart-on-its-sleeve machine has been there almost from the beginning.
I came across it in 2020 in a pitiful state, with a dinged fork, in the Urbanvelo Unlimited group. The decision to buy took a moment to ripen. When the bike wasn’t finding its buyer, I nudged the owner: “How much?” I believe the deal eventually landed at five thousand crowns for the GT and two relatively decent steel frames with remnants of parts. Heaven knows what I got for them later, but it brought the price down to something bearable. We agreed on the date and place of handover for November 17, 2020, at Anděl in Prague.
On the Day of the Students, I headed to the capital early in the morning to see my friend Vladek. The plan was an autumn ride together toward Karlštejn and the Malá Amerika and Velká Amerika quarries, the first outing for my freshly built red Sector. During the evening return back north, there was a layover at Anděl, and the trunk of my car filled up. That’s how it’s supposed to be, after all. A man shouldn’t come home empty-handed.
I suspect the unloading in Liberec happened very quietly that time. It wasn’t always necessary to drag the family’s attention to myself and my hobbies at any cost. But I was grinning ear to ear the whole way home. The seller had shared the story of how he’d come by the GT.
He’d bought it as part of a big lot together with roughly fifty other bikes. Every single one without exception in a miserable condition. The GT was one of the better ones—apart from the dinged fork, it was a solid old veteran. He brought it home in several runs with a big van. And yes, you’re guessing right. His girlfriend didn’t praise him for such a great bargain.
On the Day of the Students, I headed to the capital early in the morning to see my friend Vladek. The plan was an autumn ride together toward Karlštejn and the Malá Amerika and Velká Amerika quarries, the first outing for my freshly built red Sector. During the evening return back north, there was a layover at Anděl, and the trunk of my car filled up. That’s how it’s supposed to be, after all. A man shouldn’t come home empty-handed.
I suspect the unloading in Liberec happened very quietly that time. It wasn’t always necessary to drag the family’s attention to myself and my hobbies at any cost. But I was grinning ear to ear the whole way home. The seller had shared the story of how he’d come by the GT.
He’d bought it as part of a big lot together with roughly fifty other bikes. Every single one without exception in a miserable condition. The GT was one of the better ones—apart from the dinged fork, it was a solid old veteran. He brought it home in several runs with a big van. And yes, you’re guessing right. His girlfriend didn’t praise him for such a great bargain.
What a festival of joy in the workshop that was. One of my first collecting catches, and a pile of new, previously unseen parts that made my eyes spin. Very soon it was time for a teardown, and the flaws that had stayed hidden at purchase began to show themselves. Like an idiot, I didn’t check how seized the seatpost was in the frame. Ouch. Luckily it wasn’t a tragedy. A bath in Konkor, a vise, and a bit of brute force fixed it. Phew.
Cleaned, greased, and over the winter roughly assembled with a black GT Bologna Lite fork. I snapped a first quick photo, uploaded it to Bike-forum, and that very day an offer for the perfect upgrade came in. “I’ll give you the catalogue-red Bologna. I’ve got one spare,” announced Honza Hándl from Olomouc. Perfect. We shook on it, and an excuse to visit his extensive collection was born.
A few months later, I really did set out to see Honza. When I think about it today, it was that moment that, two years later, gave rise to the idea for the Čeští sběratelé article series for Velo magazine.
Everything would have been beautiful and perfect if my bad habit hadn’t shown up. First collecting catch, second, third. It was coming apart and going back together like a dream. But as the number of bikes in the workshop kept growing, the energy to finish them kept shrinking. The GT, assembled to ninety-five percent, already with the red fork and the original black seven-speed LX, at one point sadly took its place in the corner. It stayed there for two years.
A new impulse came only in 2023, with yet another resolution to break the habit. One or two evenings were enough back then, and it was complete. Only the wedge of the original steel GT stem didn’t survive my brutal push. It cracked. A yellow KORE stem solved it. Even though it wasn’t period-correct, it looked fantastic. And the first ride in the Lusatian Mountains? Pure joy, topped off with a small beer at the U Tří lip pub, a cult establishment for thirsty cyclists.
But it still wasn’t a happy end. Waves of buying and selling swept through the workshop. More than once I woke up with the feeling that I truly had way too much. The search for the right vision. Tear down, build up, and tear down again.
My critical eye didn’t miss the red GT with the yellow KORE stem either. Fortunately, I judged it “only” as another teardown and a return to the corner. It could have been worse. Someone among the lucky ones in the Retro MTB CZ group would have gained a beautiful piece of history—and I’d have been left with nothing.
But luck did smile on the GT after all. Since I like commuting to work, it was revived with a one-step more modern Shimano LX group, a steeper KORE stem, and wider MAX1 bars. The promised happy end. I hope. We’ve already done autumn commutes together, and I ride it around the block with my daughter. Next to the red 24-inch Woom, the 26-inch GT looks damn good.