ARMONA -- Carlos Cordova's creations aren't in a typical bike shop.

Then again, there's nothing typical about the tricked-out rigs that Cordova sells from an industrial space near Highway 198 in Armona.

These are lowrider bicycles, a form that is more about style and art than it is about functionality.

Instead of road bikes built for speed and distance, or mountain bikes equipped with shocks for uneven terrain, lowrider bikes are made for one thing -- cruising with bling.

Most observers agree that they originated as distinct part of the Chicano culture of East Los Angeles in the 1960s and 1970s. Kids watched their parents building elaborate lowrider cars out of old jalopies, and they did the same, only with the classic curved Schwinn frame design of that era.

With lowered banana seats, whitewall tires, small rims with a lot of spokes, high sissy handlebars and an old-school bent fork, the bikes were striking creations that could be tossed together without requiring a wad of cash.

That was then.

These days, adults come into Cordova's shop and order customized versions that can run into the hundreds or even thousands of dollars.

"When they buy these things, they buy them to cherish them," Cordova said.

Some do it for nostalgic reasons. Some do it to get their children involved in a hobby. Others enter the bikes in shows, where they appear alongside lowrider cars.

And it's not just Hispanics.

Much of his lowrider business, Cordova said, comes from the nearby Tachi-Yokut tribe.

Mickey D. Martinez, a Tachi mixed martial artist who lives on the Santa Rosa Rancheria, recently passed his lowrider bike down to his son, Andrew.

He bought a new one from Cordova so he and his son could ride together.

Martinez is half-Hispanic. So are many members of the tribe, he said

"I just like the fact that they're different from regular bikes," Martinez said, calling Cordova a "role model."

In the popular view, lowrider bikes and cars are often linked to gangs, according to Future Akins-Tillett, an assistant professor of art at Texas Tech University in Lubbock.

She believes nothing could be further from the truth.

Akins-Tillett works with teachers at a Lubbock middle school to teach the craft of lowrider bikes to students. She sees students who are learning mechanical skills, developing their artistic abilities and taking pride in their work.

"We have a lot of kids that everybody's given up on. I'm just tired of kids who have withdrawn by the 7th grade," Akins-Tillett said.

The tradition attracts kids and families who want to stay out of gangs, according to Mary Cordova.

"It keeps them busy. It's not just a bike, it's something they've put into the bike," she said.

For Carlos Cordova, the bikes are primarily a labor of love. Displayed on the concrete floor of his transmission shop, they bring in about $300 to $500 a month, he said.

The transmission business remains his bread and butter.

To attract more bike customers, Cordova includes a line of beach cruisers. He carries a comfort bike with no top tube made by a German company called Biria. He also offers chopper-like bikes inspired by the custom motorcycle craze.

The wife of the Tachi-Yokut tribe recently bought one of the Birias, Mary Cordova said.

Cordova has high hopes. He's working to get his 12-year-old son Carlos Jr., involved. He has dreams of getting a space just for the bikes.

"It's a slow process, but we're getting up the ladder," he said.

The reporter can be reached at 583-2432.

(Dec. 14, 2007)