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Tiny Ripples on the Pond of Life

A line in my song “Prodigal Child” goes:

“I used to lie in the long grass and watch the clouds go by, as a child my world was happy, only people made me cry.”

Sadly today it is still people who make me cry. I will go so far as to say there is not a single thing wrong with this world today if it were not for people.... Or to be more precise, people misbehaving.

Hardly a week goes by that there is not some act of terrorism somewhere. I can handle the occasional natural disaster, but I can’t understand why people can’t behave properly and not kill other people. It makes me sad… It makes me cry.

It seems to me the biggest drive in life is to affect the lives of others. We can do this in a positive way or we can do it in a negative way. Unfortunately many people do not figure this out.

Young people especially. Bullying, vandalism, destroying things, which if taken to extremes includes killing people. All effect the lives of others in a negative way. Events sometimes so horrendous they affect a whole nation, and even the World beyond.

If any good is to come from these insane acts, it can only be that we need to realize and teach our children that this urge to affect the lives of others is natural.

It takes almost no thinking or effort to do this in a negative way, when with a small conscious effort it can be quite easy to do so in a positive way.

Who knows what affect a simple smile, a kind word or action can have on the rest of the world.

For every action there is a reaction. Actions both good and bad have a ripple effect, cause a chain reaction so to speak.

Like a ripple, the affect has most of its power felt by those close to its source, further out the ripple has less affect. 

However, ripples can start small, cause others to join in, and they can gain energy and travel far.  A harsh word or unkind act can ruin someone’s day and may push someone who is unstable enough over the edge that they might just kill someone.

Giving the finger to a fellow traveler on the highway may cause that person to drive angrily and aggressively, resulting a crash that kills someone. On the other hand a small ripple started by a simple smile, if joined by enough other small ripples can form a large wave that travels far, and affects a lot of people.

Today I will try not to let the rudeness and negative acts of others affect me. If it stops with me, at least I am not passing it on where it might gain momentum. I will try to start my own tiny ripples, with positive thoughts and actions. Who knows, it may just gather momentum, travel round the world and come right back to me.


How do you deal with negativity?

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Pablo Escobar’s Bike

Apparently I built a bike that was previously owned by infamous drug lord, Pablo Escobar, according to this story on I had heard of this bike before some years ago. Someone had emailed with a description of this bike and a frame number. No pictures were furnished, in fact this is the first time I have seen pictures.

I’m not sure if this contact was made by the current, or a previous owner. The person emailing me wanted conformation this bike was indeed owned by Pablo Escobar. I could not give that confirmation, because the bike was built in 1981, when I was a full time builder for Masi. I was only building a handful of my own frames in my spare time, and I didn’t keep records of frames built, or where they went.

At the time I only accepted frame orders from established bike dealers, so the frame was probably sold through a Florida bike store, and I would have no knowledge of the end customer anyway. So the answer I gave then was the same I give now. The story is entirely possible, but I have no way to prove or disprove it.

End of story? Not quite.

Aside from who may have owned this frame, 1981 was an interesting period in my own history. I built just a few custom ‘dave moulton’ frames that year. I was a full time builder for Masi, building between 20 and 25 frames a month, which left little time to build and promote my own frames.

In fact, it was my own productivity that lead to me working myself out of a job at the end of 1981.

No one at Masi had placed a limit on how many frames I build, so I just plugged away, building 20 to 25 a month, until December 1981, Masi found themselves with a huge stockpile of several hundred frames.

I was told I would be laid off for a while, until some of this stockpile was sold. And so in January 1982 I rented space from Masi, and went to work building my own frames full time. I went from building a handful of my own named custom frames in 1981 to building 69 frames in 1982.

By 1983 I had opened my own shop in San Marcos, California, and built 96 custom frames, and in addition that year, (1983.) I built over 300 John Howard frames.

So getting back to the 1981 frames. What made them different and special? It was a transition period where I found what worked and sold in England did not necessarily work in the US market. Most of the 1981 frames had a contrasting color on the head tube, and matching panels on the seat and down tubes. (Other 1981 frames are shown below.)

This was the way I had painted most of my frames in England before coming to the US in 1979. I was an established and known builder in the UK. I had forged a reputation by building frames for top International class British amateur riders. I placed my name decal within a contrasting panel to draw attention to it, and make it stand out.

Top riders using my frames brought me a lot of orders, and customers wanting to emulate these riders wanted the same style of pant. However, I quickly found I was relatively unknown in California when I arrived there at the end of 1980. Even less known than I had been on the US East Coast.

There was resistance to the name at first. "Not exotic sounding." Was a common comment. The US market had become used to Italian sounding names. Looking back, I probably should have changed my name to “Moltinelli” or something similar. Instead I stuck to my guns regarding my name and always stuck with all lower case letters my my name decal.

I dropped the contrasting decal panel, which drew attention to the name, and instead understated the name. The lower case letters fell right into this understatement thinking. Whereas the original idea conceived in the UK was to make it easy to read. The font used was similar to that used on British road signs.

Other details that make these 1981 frames different. The Henry James lugs, with the head lugs  sometimes re-sculpted the angular shape you see on the top two frames pictured above. The bottom bracket shell, and fork crown were not engraved. That was started later at the beginning of 1982 when I started full time production again. (Picture Below)

As a footnote, the Pablo Escobar's frame was built in California, not the UK as the article states. Why then does it say “Worcester, England” on the head tube decal? I stole the idea from Masi. Their logo said “Masi, Milano.” Even though the frames were built in California. I thought, ‘It’s my heritage, and if Masi can do it so can I.’ So all custom ‘dave moulton’ frames have the “Worsester, England,” as part of my logo, even those built in the US..


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1970s Time-Trial Bike

Fag paper clearances. (British slang for cigarette paper.) Meaning the rear wheel was so close to the seat tube that you could barely get a cigarette paper between the tire and the frame tube. See the picture above.

This was an extreme fashion fad in the UK during the mid 1970s especially on time trial bikes. It served no useful purpose except to make the chainstays shorter thereby saving a little weight, and making the rear triangle a little stiffer. The frames were usually built using vertical rear dropouts to achieve the close clearance.

When fads like this become fashion a framebuilder can do little but follow the latest trend, or loose business. I was no different. However, I did not follow the extremes of some framebuilders who built these frames with clearances so close you had to deflate the rear tire to get the wheel in and out. This bordered on the ridiculous. 

Some built frames with extremely steep head angles so the front wheel barely cleared the down tube. This was a part of the trend I refused to follow, as it made for some very “squirrelly” bikes. The last thing a rider needs is a squirrelly time trial bike. A TT bike needs to hold a straight line.

I remember one frame (not one of mine.) brought to me for repair. The down tube and top tube were bent. My first question was, “What did you hit?” The owner replied, “Nothing, I slowed to take a corner, and the frame collapsed under me.”

When I inspected the frame the first thing I noticed was a black rubber tire mark under the down tube right where the tube folded. It became clear to me what had happened. The front wheel was so close to the down tube that when the rider applied the front brake there was enough flex that the front wheel touched the down tube.

Maybe his headset was a little loose, whatever the cause, once the front wheel touched it would have stopped the bike very quickly and the forward momentum folded the frame. I replaced the top and down tubes, making sure to make the head angle a little shallower, making for a little more front wheel clearance.

The bike pictured at the top was one I built for John Patston, an international class rider who represented Great Britain on their national team. In the above picture, John Patston is leading, followed by Paul Carbutt, and Pete Hall. (All on ‘dave moulton’ frames.)

The forth rider Grant Thomas is obscured behind Patston. This was the British Team riding in the 1975 World Championship 100 km. Team Time Trial event.

John Patston was primarily a road rider, very strong and aggressive, often riding away from the opposition to win solo. If others stayed with him, he would usually win the finishing sprint. He was also an excellent time trialist. 

I received a great deal of publicity from this particular bike. It featured in the British “Cycling” magazine. (Affectionately known by cyclists throughout the UK, as “The Comic.”) 

I can’t remember whether the bike was built in Columbus or Reynolds tubing, but the complete bike built up with Campagnolo titanium components, weighed in a 19 lbs. Pretty light for 1977 when this was built.

The bike was also featured in “The Penguin Book of the Bicycle” published in 1978. (Left.) The same photo shown at the top was used for the title page as the book was opened. (See below.) 

My name was airbrushed from the picture, as were the spokes from the wheels to make room for the title text. However the same picture appeared again later in the book, (Page 97.) this time with my name intact.

The frame was painted black and had gold pin striping on the edges of the lugs. It also had John’s initials “JP” painted in gold on the seatstay caps. Cycling magazine drew an interesting parallel to this, one that I had not realized when I chose that particular color scheme.

The British tobacco giant “John Player,” also with initials JP, sponsored a Grand Prix racing team at that time. The cars built by Lotus were painted black with gold lettering.


This article was first posted  March 2008.

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Stolen... Be on the Lookout

The Fuso pictured above is owned by Richard Salinas of Ontario, California. It is a 56 cm. frame, serial number 190. It was stolen from an apartment communial garage last Sunday 28th May. 

Please be on the lookout, especaily in the Inland Empire (South East of LA.) area. The frame is a pretty distictive one. One of a kind if my memory serves me.

The Blue/Red paint was one reserved fo a bike store called Two Wheel Transit Autority, a huge store that was once in Huntigton Beach, CA. The store closed its doors in the late 1980s. They sold a lot of Fuso frames and bikes over the years.

This particular one was built for the owner of the store who requested something distinctive. I placed random white stars on the bottom blue portion of the frame.

This should make it easy to spot and difficult to sell. If anyone has info, please either contact Richad via his FB liknk above, or comment here or contact me via the email link on the right column of this page.

Footnote: If ever your bike is stolen file a police report. I have been told on good autority that the police often recover stolen bikes, but then have no record to get it back to its owner. Also if the bike is sold, and it could change hands several times, then the original owner has a problem proving ownership. File a report, its worth the effort.


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Childhood Memories on this Memorial Day

The picture on the left is of me aged five with my Uncle David. He was my father’s younger brother, and I was named after him.

It was 1941 during the early days of WWII; in the background of the picture you can see tents.

This was a British Army camp, and I have clear memories of watching a drill sergeant marching the new recruits up and down the road outside my house.

One day leaving home with my mother, the soldiers were lined up on the road three deep, standing to attention. As we walked by I said in a loud voice as kids often do,

“Mum, you see the one with the beard under his nose. (The drill sergeant had a mustache.) He’s the one who does all the shouting.”

There was audible laughter from some of the soldiers and as my mother hurried me away, I could hear the drill sergeant screaming at the men to be quiet.

We were living in a rural area in Southern England, having moved there in 1940 to escape the bombing in London. The war was something I didn’t understand at the time, but it was all I knew; my father was gone, fighting somewhere in Sahara Desert of North Africa.

Another clear memory I have is of early 1944 when the American soldiers arrived in preparation for the Normandy Invasion. They were everywhere, camped on every spare piece of land, including the same camp behind my house.

I was now eight years old and although they seemed like grown-ups to me, I realize today that most of these young army recruits were barely ten or twelve years older than I was at the time. 

I remember they were always happy, laughing and continually goofing around as teenagers will do.

They were so good to us kids, giving us candy and chewing gum every time the saw us. This was a huge deal as sugar was rationed and we had to get by on an allowance of only 2 oz. of candy a month.

We became used to the American soldiers being there, jeeps, trucks and even Sherman Tanks driving by all the time. Then one day, the first week of June 1944 the soldiers were gone. I went to school in the morning and they were there, I came home from school that afternoon and they were all gone.

It was a surreal experience that I didn’t understand at the time, anymore than I understood anything else that went on during that period of my life.

Later when I became an adult, it had a profound effect on me. Because even to this day I can still see the faces of those young American boys, (Because that is what many of them were.) laughing, and goofing around.

Only now I realize that those same kids died in their thousands on the Beaches of Normandy and beyond.

I will never forget the sacrifice they made. A sacrifice not of their choosing. But one they made none the less so I would never have to do the same.


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