Now that the off-season is here, we’ve got a little more time on our hands, so we figured it was a good time to bring back “Cool as Hell,” the column that highlights some of Craigslist’s most valuable gems. Enjoy, and as always, if you think you’ve got an ad worth featuring here, submit it to email@example.com.
In addition to the thousands of motorcycles that are hauled to Loretta Lynn’s ranch every summer for the biggest amateur national motocross championship on the globe, hundreds of tricked out Rhinos, Razors, and golf carts are also brought in. With their expensive and extensive upgrades, these vehicles often cost more than the bikes being raced. This orange golf cart is not one of those machines. In fact, this three-wheeled relic is so bad that it’s not even good enough to be a golf cart that ends up at the bottom of the creek at Loretta’s!
That being said, we’re sure that this bogie-mobile probably does have some appeal for the right buyer. Just think of all the paperweights that could be made out of this thing! Don’t forget the tires either—those blown-out spider habitats can be yanked off the rims and used as bonfire fuel at some redneck’s annual backwoods whiskey roundup. And hey, it’s orange, which means it’s ready to race!
The bright side: Other than the seller’s refreshing lack of turd polishing (he flat out admits it doesn’t run), there isn’t much of a bright side to this piece of fairway filth, but we have to pick something, so we’re going to go with the cup holders. No chance someone who isn’t hammered buys this rusty chunk of rubble, and if you’re drinking, you’re going to need a place to set your beer.
We’ve all heard the joke about mopeds (and a few other things) being fun to ride as long as your friends don’t see you doing it, but c’mon, how much fun could this unholy marriage of internal-combustion and pedals be? It’s like taking two things that are awesome by themselves and making them terrible, not unlike supercross and Hollywood movies (what kind of a name is Rowdy Sparks anyway?). The seller’s sales pitch confirms this too—at the very end he says he’d like to trade this illegitimate offspring of piston and leg power for a canoe. Any motorcycle, pedals or no, can’t be much fun if you’d prefer paddling around in a floating, metal half-pita. Using a canoe as transportation would probably get more chicks than the moped too.
Right about now we’re pretty sure there’s a few Puch Maxi (the brand of this particular moped) enthusiasts out there menacingly smashing fists into palms and screaming that Puch Maxis are classic machines that hold value and still have a lot of parts available. Who cares? Owning even the coolest moped is still like being the skinniest dude at fat camp, or being happy that you only pooped your pants a little.
The bright side: Look closely and you’ll see that there’s a One Industries gripper seat cover on the seat, which means there’s a chance that the seller might actually be cool. It also means that you’ll be less likely to fall off as you’re pedaling home from your local watering hole.
Usually when someone says they’re working on a rat bike, or in this case a trike, you can expect to see a low-budget, homebuilt machine sporting an unfinished look. And that’s all true with this raked-out reaper, but given that there’s probably actual rats living somewhere in this rolling sin means that in this scenario the term rat trike might be literal!
What’s up with the room? Is it an oddly furnished garage or the living room of a tweaker pad somewhere in the foothills? Seriously, what’s splattered all over those white cupboards? It’s a bit surprising that there aren’t empty cans of Hamm’s and Schlitz strewn all over the place too, but a closer look reveals what appears to be a cylinder of Sierra Nevada off to the side. Hey, this guy might be a tweaker, but at least he’s classy!
The bright side: In this situation, the bright side is that this three-wheeled mistake has no motor, meaning it’s his neighbors who are the lucky ones. Can you imagine how annoying it would be to listen to your insomniac, nut-ball neighbor revving a VW engine with straight pipes all night trying to dial in the carbs?
Ever wonder where bikes go to die? We used to think it was Travis Pastrana’s compound, but now we know that it’s this rusty, junk jamboree in Northern California. We tried to count how many different lumps of oxidized metal were here but we seriously couldn’t—they’re so packed together that one set of handlebars blends almost seamlessly into the next.
Typically, collections like this belong to old guys who are either divorced or have a huge chunk of property where they can store their precious mountains of twisted metal and broken dreams out of view. After all, women don’t tolerate this kind of thing. But in this case the seller herself is a woman named Rachel (either that or it’s a man whose parents were expecting a girl and were too lazy to think up a new name)! How crazy is that? Even more perplexing is the title of the ad: “Lots of vintage bikes and more.” What’s the “and more” part, and why isn’t it pictured or explained? What on Earth is Rachel slanging out there?
The bright side: Rachel owns the bright side on this one. When guys who have resigned themselves to living out their lives by their stacks of bent motorcycle frames and folded wheels, separated from love, see that an actual, live woman will not only tolerate that kind of behavior, but does it herself, they’re going to be clamoring for her attention. Hopefully her cell battery has a full charge, because her phone’s going to be ringing off the hook!