I have a
new road bike, my fourth in as many years. I first bought a Raleigh Record Ace,
probably manufactured towards the end of the 1970s, maybe the early '80s. It
cost me something like £140 and I sold it for about the same within mere months
of acquiring it; needed too much work, the wheels were an unusual size, which
limited the choice of tyres, and I was very much fumbling in the dark with the
whole thing.
Next
I purchased a rather charming, heavily chromed velocipede with a funny name –
called Carlos – whose components were a little tired, but the general condition
of the frame was reasonably good; I'm guessing it was about 30-odd years' old.
I rode that for about 6 months before suddenly deciding to sell up and look for
something else. It didn't take me long and I inspected a number of solutions
before committing myself to a metallic blue Romani with Shimano 105 group-set,
Wolber rims, Campagnolo brakes, in pretty good shape all-round with just a few
scratches but no actual rust. The look of the frame and its various components
suggested the bike was put together in the very late 1980s. It was upon this
bike that I would ride three consecutive London-to-Brightons: 2013, 2014 and
2015. I made the decision to replace it in late 2014 but couldn't find the appropriate
bicycle, so by default it partook in three of these charity rides instead of
just two.
In
the spring of 2014, I added a carbon Look 566 to my stable. The nature of this
bike, the material it is made from, how much it cost me and the sort of cycling
I undertake on it, excludes it from being meditated on alongside the rest.
There is no danger of it being supplanted, just as it wasn't bought to supplant
anything else. It is its own thing.
'Carlos'
For the
moment I still have the Romani, but I have also its successor, a yellow
Fondriest with 130 mm spacing between the rear drop-outs, which allows for 8
sprockets and the potential for more should I ever want to augment its
capability. This vehicle is probably little more than 20 years old, and this is
obvious from looking at it: the yellow paint job with black and pink spray
painted geometric detail is typical of the era. What is also clear is that this
bike represents a move on from the Romani, just as the Romani exemplified the
progress made since the Carlos, and the Carlos in turn since the Raleigh. In
other words, I have bought my bikes chronologically and they can be used to
measure certain developments in the field over time. Considering the gears
alone, I have moved from 5 at the back, to 6, then 7, and now 8. The actual
gear ratios have steepened too. The braking mechanisms were friction operated
on the first two bikes, indexed on the third, and integrated now with this
fourth. Wheels seem lighter, appear more modern, may have fewer spokes.
This
is a natural, if unwitting, progression. When I acquired the Raleigh I was
already riding a single-speed bike that was attractive in its simplicity and
coloured a pale green olive. Aesthetics were at the forefront of my mind when I
bought that bike, continued to be so, but more practical concerns have
gradually come to the fore. If I could afford a mint-condition metallic blue
Rossin dating back to 1982 – such as the one I saw selling on eBay a while back
– then the look of the thing might take precedence. I can’t, so I’ve come to
approach my subject from more pragmatic angles. The Fondriest in not
unattractive, but what drew me towards it was the vintage, the integrated gear
shifters, its dimensions and overall condition. The fact that it is yellow – although
I do like yellow – is neither here nor there – I would prefer it if was sprayed
a metallic pale blue, as the Romani is, but that now lies low on my list of
priorities.
The
sequence implies a fifth bike, probably with a 10-speed rear cassette, in at
least 3 years’ time, the duration of ownership having risen exponentially. But
I don’t intend on this being the case. For one, buying and selling bikes is
quite a drag. Second, I would have happily persisted with the Romani, maybe
invested in new components, had it not been slightly too small for me. Finally,
the Fondriest represents a sort of apogee in cycling design: thereafter aluminium
and carbon began to dominate, and the steel framed bikes that have been made
since have followed more contemporary geometries and technical advancements. I
will draw the line somewhere, and that line coincides with about the time that
top-tubes began to slope, rear derailleurs became long in gauge, stems moved to
being threadless, rims became very deep. Unless I want something bespoke – and
I have considered building a bike from bought parts – then there is nowhere I
can go from here.
