Fast forward to the winter of 1975, two gentlemen met at a dimly lit bar in a classic Wisconsin
supper club called The Pine Knoll. As far as Trek's founders, Dick Burke and Bevil Hogg, were concerned, they were
simply performing a time-honored ritual of business in Wisconsin where friends and partners met
over drinks to hash out the day’s events, plan the future, and debate ideas good and bad. Over a few beers, the men
engaged in a deep debate over what to call their fledgling bicycle company. Hogg favored Kestrel,
after the bird of prey. Burke preferred Trek because it called forth images of travel and adventure. He must have known
there was something remarkable about the word, something that held the promise of longevity and freedom
and exploration and quality. Trek was never just a name. From the beginning,
it was a summation of values.

Months later, in spring 1976, in a southern Wisconsin barn located halfway between their homes
in Madison and Milwaukee, this pair of visionaries set out to make a business of building bikes of extraordinary artistry.
Here, in the geographically convenient town of Waterloo, their dream sparked to life. There were five
employees on the payroll when the barn doors opened in 1976. In its first year, Trek produced 904 touring frames. Steel
tubing, lugged and silver-brazed, handcrafted and hand-painted with care. A culture of craftsmanship
and rebellion was fostered in the young American upstart. Every bend and every weld was charged with purpose, as each
meticulously constructed frame broke the convention that all great bikes must come from Europe.
Trek was out to change minds.




it's all for the ride.
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