In the beginning...

Back in 1979, the movie Breaking Away was released, and it inspired a lot of people, me included, to get excited about cycling. About a small town working class kid hanging out with his buddies, obsessed with all things Italian (especially bikes), it was a heart-warmer - funny, predictable and a bit cornball at times, but it got me thinking about bikes, especially good bikes. Fancy bikes. Fancy Italian bikes.

At the time, I had a Nishiki 10 speed, a perfectly serviceable bike, dark blue, but I started hankering after something else, something more personal, more exotic, more...Italian.

I started visiting the local bikes shops, checking out tubing and gruppos, clusters and ratios, and of course, paint jobs. It wasn’t until I walked into Carleton Cycles on Kingsway that the light went on - I didn’t have to buy something already made and assembled in some factory somewhere, I could have a truly custom bike, made for me, fitted to my body, components of my own choosing, a colour that I really liked.

On went the light, out came the chequebook, and I was on my way.

The frame: Reynolds 531 double-butted tubing (state of the then art), fully lugged.

The gruppo: Campagnolo Record (I just couldn’t go the extra for the Super Record).



The saddle: Brooks, of course, the classic hard leather ball breaker with a can of Proofide leather treatment.

And the paint: a lovely cream called French Ivory.

A sweet, sweet bike, and all mine.

I rode it for a couple of summers, around the city, some time trials out at UBC, to and from work a few times, and then I stopped. I don’t remember why, something else must have come up, I guess.

We moved a few times, and the bike always came with me, gathering dust from here, cobwebs from there. The tires lost their air and the leather saddle dried out, but every time I noticed it I would think, “Nice bike”, and whenever I gave the front wheel a little poke it would spin and spin and spin.

Then last summer I thought, “This is a waste of a good bike, I should get it back on the road”, so I hauled it out of its dark corner, hosed it off, and walked it down to Bikes on The Drive, one of our local bike shops for a quick once-over. A tweak here and there, new tires and tubes, and I was riding again.