Tom in his RSV Vagabund 13 wool jersey; me celebrated Canada Day two days late
Ruediger and I enjoying our ride along the Rhine bike paths
After more than a year's silence here at Tin Donkey, I am pleased to return to writing about my favourite subject: cycling! It has been a busy year, albeit not so much from the riding standpoint but I retired on June 10 from my day job and am looking forward to getting back on the road on two wheels more. I have been writing regularly for Pezcyclingnews.com and I hope you have seen my book reviews and my recent pieces about the start of the 2017 Tour de France in Dusseldorf, Germany.
On July 3rd I was able to do a 42 km ride along the Rhine to Duisburg and Krefeld with my good friends Tom and Ruediger, using a lovely Mondonico borrowed from Tom. It was great to ride the rural country roads on a beautiful day and now that I have returned to Canada again I am inspired to do more, much more!
You can check out our route via the wonderful Relive software here but I have also included a map of the ride.
The ritual takes place the first Sunday of each month and the 2013 season official began for Düsseldorf's own retro troupe, the Klassikerausfahrt, today with a ride from Ricci-Sports, the unique bike shop on Grunerstrasse, out along the Rhine to the harbour at Krefeld and back again.
Old steel steeds, for the most part
At 10:30 participants began to arrive at the shop. There had been enthusiasm on Facebook but the number of people who said they would come dwindled due to the not very nice weather. The forecast called for 20% chance of rain and for 30 minutes of sunshine. Seriously, 0.5 hours of sun. In any event leaving home we came across some snowflakes and then leaving with the still considerable group after the traditional coffee and croissants around 11:00 we rode off into light rain.
Fueling before the ride
There was a motley crew assembled. There were the familiar bikes: the silver Rickert; the red-and-white-Bottechia; the blue Colnago; the blue-and-white Merckx; a pair of Bianchis; the omnipresent and always welcome Gazelles. Mixed in were some less familiar: a fine Legnano; a Saronni Red Colnago; and more than a few modern bikes, including a sinister black Canyon and a white one; a Cervelo R3 and, impressively, a borrowed S-Works Venge. Team Tin Donkey was represented with two tricolori bikes (a Faggin ridden by Nick and my Chesini) as well as my sea-green l'Eroica Peugeot PXN-10, ridden by Enrico, who had been drafted from my office. For both Nick and Enrico this was their inaugural Klassikerausfahrt run, although Nick rode the Rommerskirchen-Düsseldorf Classic organized by the group in June. "Organized" is a loose term: Klassikerausfahrt proudly proclaims: "No club; no duty; no etiquette." It is the least German organization in Germany and in spite of its dedication to classic steel racing bicycles, if anyone shows up with carbon or aluminum underneath them it is all the same as the group is "unbeatably tolerant."
Enrico, considering leaving the Dark Side of triathlon for the even Darker Side that is retro riding
Riding gently out of Derendorf and across the Pempelfort sections of the city through innumerable stoplights as we broke the still Sunday calm with the screeching of our pathetically inadequate but wholly authentic brakes, we turned north upon reaching the Rhine, passing he Messe and the sewage plant and rolling along the bike path along the embankment. After a short time our route took us over the Flughafenbrücke over the river, with its hilarious circular descent on the eastern side, and we continued on the bike path on that side ever northwards. We passed where the Kaiserswerth ferry crosses and hooked around the village of Nierst as we made our way to Krefeld and its impressively unattractive harbour. Turning onto the B288, we crossed the bridge over the Rhine. Some of us took the bikepath but others, including myself, missed it and rode on the bridge proper, which was not so nice. But soon enough we were back on a country road. Well, not all of us. The group pulled in at a country inn after passing some horse farms as the group had gotten split up. While waiting Nick wandered in and had a chat with the proprietor, who donated a little bag of biscuits to him even though we didn't stay around for coffee. We were waiting because, it turned out, at least three of our number had gotten flat tires. As we were to learn later, Enrico was amongst them.
Waiting, coffeeless...
Eventually we headed down the road again, always in on/off light rain. It was not uncomfortable although we never did see that 30 minutes of sunshine but I was thankful that I was wearing a wool jersey, along with a Gore-Tex rain jacket, long-fingered gloves and wool socks so I was warm enough the whole time. Again at the 35 km mark we had another brief stop between Rahm and Angermund as we waited for the group to reform. A few meters further down the road we passed the ancestral home of the Grafs von Spee, still occupied by the family in its 13th generation and possessing an impressive English-style landscape garden.
Home Sweet Home, if you are a von Spee (Photo: Creative Commons)
Soon our group was all back together and I was relieved that we did not have to send out a search party for Enrico, who enjoyed chasing us down at full tilt as he had not been overly impressed by our meandering speed. Our route, which included some pretty rough field paths, brought us soon enough to Kaiserswerth and the Rhine bikepath as we retraced our way back to Ricci-Sport.
All in all we rode 54.07 kms with an early season average speed of 21.17 km/h. And climbed 199 m, which Nick, who lives in a very hilly area, found amusing. It was great to get in the first ride of the season, enjoy the fresh and the good company that makes up the Klassikerausfahrt experience. The next ride should be on Sunday, April 7, although quite of few of us will go to the Stalen Ros racing bicycle market and show in Holland on March 24.
Special thanks to Konrad for getting the coffee ready and to Carsten and all the shepherds who made sure everyone get back, flat tires and all.
Today, May 1, I had originally considered doing a bike marathon in the Eifel Mountains but given the signals my body sent last week in the Ardennes, I thought it might be better to work up towards other rides in Berlin and Bonn later this month and in June. The weather has been cooperative and today I took the opportunity to drag my not-unwilling colleague, Henri, who has been equipped to ride the Chesini Olimpiade with clipless pedals, along for his second ride on a racing bicycle. The tour of choice was the monthly Klassikerausfahrt, featuring an approximately 50 km ride at a reasonable speed, a great deal of cake, old steel bikes and good company.
We rolled into the Ricci-Sports shop around 10:30 and there was already a good crowd. Taking advantage of the excellent weather (which has gone on now for several weeks in a row), our numbers were pretty big. There were a lot of interesting bikes, along with the old favourites like Klaus’ Bottechia and Carsten’s Peugeot. There were three Dutch Gazelles, as well as Konrad’s lovely red RIH from Holland, a Puch from Austria, a tricolori Faggin, along with other samples of the Italian builder’s art from Benotto, Chinetti, Gios and Cinelli, as well as my own Basso and the Chesini. I was particularly drawn to a Rickert Spezial, a locally-built bike from Dortmund, an example of which I would love to have in my own collection. Hugo Rickert brazed the Reynolds 531 tubes and his wife painted the bikes, including the lovely lug outlines on this dark blue bike. A feast for the eyes and no Hangar Queens in the bunch. All these bikes are meant to be enjoyed on the road. And it was encouraging to be joined by two youngsters, also riding steel frames, and, for a change, more than a single woman!
After the customary croissants and coffee, the 30 or so riders organized themselves into an untidy mess of a line and headed off into the parade of traffic lights that marks our progress out of Düsseldorf. We rode along the Rheinufer past the Altstadt and reassembled in dribs and drams at the base of the Rheinturm television tower. One rider already fell victim to a mechanical as he hit some glass leftover by careless drunk people celebrating the traditional “Tanz in den Mai” the night before. And a bit further down the road, Henri had an issue with the back wheel jamming a bit on the Chesini but that was just a matter of readjusting the position of the wheel, although the new position meant that we could hear his brake pads whenever he slowed down for a while. I think that he also became apprehensive about shifting after this incident so we have to work on this a bit more.
After crossing the Rhine, we followed some of the same path that I had taken on Carsten’s Sunday ride two weeks ago although I noticed a few details, such as a reconstructed Roman watchtower I had overlooked before. It was good to be out in the country and besides the yellow dandelions we saw some lovely purple flowers adding colour to the green fields. The crops are filling in compared to two weeks ago.
At the furthest point out, in Wevelinghoven, we took a short break for a drink and then continued along the nicely paved field roads that are such a feature of Germany. Surprisingly, things began to happen at this point: a flat, a crash, some riders going the wrong way and even a pedal that fell off! But eventually everybody got back on track and we crossed the Erft once again and headed through ugly Neuss (which only seems to consist of main roads) before getting back into Düsseldorf.
Things became hilarious here. Richard rides like the wind on his singlespeed bike and he was cutting a path for Henri and me through the crowds of Sunday cyclists on the bike path along the river. We were tearing along at a good speed (watching out for roots and small children), when we were overtaken by four very fast riders. Richard knew them and took off and I made a big effort to try and keep up, without hitting any baby carriages or dogs. He told me that the group of four included three pros (local matador Sven Teutenberg among them) and a very fast amateur. In gratitude for his guidance skills, Richard is presented with a really cheesy handlebar bag
We climbed the big bridge into the Media-Hafen, slowed down by a couple of mountain bikers who were pushing (!) their bikes up but we were able to thread our way through the crowds although the Altstadt was pretty full at this point and all returned to the shop without any further incidents. There was cake and lots of bike talk and another successful Klassikerausfahrt was over.
Henri and the racing bike of his dreams
Henri and I rode back to my apartment and enjoyed a beer and some popcorn seasoned with white truffle oil on the sunny balcony. 59 kms ridden, 150 meters of climbing and a pleasant Sunday was had by all.
Getting ready to ride Photo courtesy of Klassikerausfahrt.de
Today I had the pleasure of joining a great group of around 20 cyclists for the monthly retro-ride in the Düsseldorf area. After yesterday's truly glorious weather, the forecast for today was not nearly as good although temperatures would still be around 12C but there there was a good chance of rain. Leaving the apartment around 10:15, it looked to me like the rain was about to fall but it was still warm enough to wear shorts and short-sleeved jersey.
My weapon of choice was my c. 1987 Chesini, which, since I bought it in October, had only been ridden around 25 kms in total. During the winter, I was helped by my friend Richard to build a new front wheel but it had yet to be tested. Just before reaching Ricci-Sports, the start location of the ride, my rear wheel suddenly pulled forward (am I that strong?) when I accelerated, bringing me to a very rapid stop. The rear wheel is somewhat out of true but I fiddled with the rear brake to get me to the shop, where I could use a flat wrench to reposition it. Otherwise the bicycle seemed very good. I noticed that getting back into the toe clips and straps was taking more practice than I recalled I needed, however!
There were some interesting bikes positioned outside the shop, including a really nice red and white Bottechia owned by Klaus of Eisenherz, who sold me the Chesini, and a lovely golden Gazelle from the Netherlands, as well as some other unusual bikes. The Chesini received some nice comments. I was just hoping on a longer ride it would perform well.
We all trooped into the shop for coffee and chocolate croissants and then it was time at 11:00 to begin the ride. Everyone was very relaxed but we quickly got into formation and headed out towards the west. This took a while as there are a lot of stoplights in central Düsseldorf (and every time we stopped I had to fumble around a bit to get my foot back in when we started rolling) but eventually we crossed the Rhine and were out of town.
Enroute: oldies but goodies Photo courtesy of Klassikerausfahrt.de
The ride was quite flat but very enjoyable. I took the opportunity to ride alongside a number of the other participants as the traffic was not too bad. We passed through farmland and near some industrial areas and occasionally saw other cyclists. Everyone was good about keeping a lookout for road hazards. Just over 2 hours later we returned to Ricci-Sports for coffee and cake, this being the fine German tradition, having covered just over 50 kms. As we all prepared to leave, the rain began, so the timing was perfect.
After I had adjusted the brakes, the Chesini performed beautifully and by the end of the ride I was having less trouble getting into the clips and straps. I really need to work on this for l'Eroica in October as the Peugeot I will be taking also has toe clips and straps. This is one area (clipless pedals) where there has been real progress over the years!
L t R: Chesini, Gazelle, Gitane
The Klassikerausfahrt retro-ride is scheduled for each month and the next ride will be on Sunday, May 1. Useful information about the rides is posted here.
Of course, after this enjoyable start to the day, I returned home in time to open a bottle of Alt-Bier, make some popcorn, turn on the television and watch the last part of one of the best Tour of Flanders I can recall.
It was a profitable day. For the first time in several weeks I woke up this morning with all the symptoms of a head cold, apparently a very common problem in Fall in Germany. I had organized myself enough yesterday that I spent part of the morning putting up the last of my pictures in the apartment. Previously, while living in Washington, DC, I had a nice big empty wall and, inspired by a collection of Indian paintings at the Renwick Gallery, I arranged all my cycling posters/certificates/cowbells to occupy all that space. One of my friends referred to it as "the Shrine." In Ottawa I did not have any suitable space so all the framed pictures stayed in boxes for three years. They have now been liberated as the Shrine has been reconstructed in D'dorf.
I did not have much time to admire my handiwork as Richard, he of Ricci-Sport, gave me a call. The weather was good enough (that is, not raining for once) so that we were able to go for a ride together. I met him at the shop at 11:30 and we headed out together. He had a different bicycle as his admirable silver Ricci singlespeed, which I had tried out a few weeks ago, had been stolen yesterday. He put together another bike to ride today, so off we went.
Richard is proud of the courses he has worked out in the area and today's was impressive: we live in the most densely-populated corner of Germany and yet almost all of the ride was on roads with no traffic, taking us past farms and through quiet valleys. The course was challenging as it includes some very difficult little hills. I actually had to walk up a piece of one. The 17% grade was hard enough but I lost all my traction on the rear wheel due to the wet leaves. He is also proud of the fact that we were never more than half an hour from the city, although our course was nearly 60 kms.
I did not feel 100% and climbing with a head cold is not easy as the increasing blood pressure tends to make your face hurt but I could not keep up to Richard anyway, even on my Marinoni which has a triple. How he can ride this course on a singlespeed is beyond me, although I think that in one or two spots he would have been happy to have some extra gears. He tells me that if I ride this course often enough I will have the legs and stamina for L'Eroica next October and I do not doubt it. And I hope that my weight will drop enough to make climbing hurt less!
We rolled back through Gerresheim and then back to Grafenberg, where it was time for coffee and cake at a little Konditorei I had noticed a while back since not a lot is open on Sunday. It was a delightful ride, although with 819 meters of climbing in 57.61 kms, I suspect I will sleep well tonight.
Unfortunately, it was too grey and nasty for photography but it was a joy to ride though the autumn colours. Perhaps not as impressive as what I would see in Ottawa but since there is snow there already I will not complain. Although the bike is filthy...
One of the differences between Berlin, where I lived from 1998 to 2002, and Düsseldorf is that Berlin is a huge, sprawling city whereas here I am able to get out of the city very rapidly. Although my office in the Alt Stadt is only 3 kms west of my apartment, if I continue a mere 1.3 kms east from my home I will already have left the city and find myself in the Grafenberger Wald.
Looking at my maps, I realized that heading in a slightly different direction I could easily get to the village of Neandertal, which is a suburb of Mettmann, which in itself looks pretty much like a suburb of Düsseldorf. Usually, you think of scientists making great paleontological discoveries in the dessert or badlands, far from civilization, but this most famous of discoveries is only a short bike ride away, surrounded by bakeries and beer gardens. I went to the Very Popular Search Engine and using the “Walking” function rather than the automotive one, I was easily able to map out a quiet route.
The weather was excellent one Sunday and I was joined by my colleague Henri on our expedition. Given the short distance, we both used our city bikes for the ride. The route was really good as some sections were entirely given over to pedestrians and cyclists. Unfortunately, as we neared the small town of Erkrath we discovered that the nicely-paved bike path was actually very bumpy but since there was no auto traffic we switched to the main road. Bike paths are all well and good but they really need to be maintained properly!
There was a bit of traffic in Erkrath and then we were on a better bikepath alongside a fairly busy road, the L357. We were following a small river, which was in fact the Düssel, after which the city is named and of which there are only slight traces in the metropolitan area. The ride was very pleasant as there was forest on both sides of the road. Occasionally someone went by on a racing bike, not on the bike path. In Brandenburg, my own experience was that drivers would lean on their horns if they saw this as cyclists in Germany are actually obligated to ride the bikepath if it is marked with a blue sign, but nobody seemed to care much here.
We passed a small park on the right which seemed connected to the museum and then came to a large stone, commemorating the discovery of the famous bones. It was near a little footbridge across the stream but we continued on to the museum, which was a short distance ahead and on the left. It was a popular place as there was quite a bit of traffic here.
The Neandertal Museum(photo by Hochtief)
As is usually the case in Germany, there were plentiful bike racks and after locking up we entered the modern building, constructed in 1996 after a design competition involving some 130 architects in 1993. It is a concrete structure fronted with Japanese glass and the layout inside is quite simple: a spiral ramp that climbs four floors and which represents evolution.
Stepping into the main lobby, you are met with a cheerful-looking reconstruction of a Neanderthaler. (Incidentally, the German spelling of “Thal”, or valley, was changed in the late 19th Century to the simpler “Tal.” The old orthography is still used when referring to the cave people, but the village itself seems to use both spellings.) After getting the admission ticket, and a genuinely useless audio guide that requires you to plug in to stations along the way, we walked through the introductory section, which was about the natural history of Neandertal. The region was a choice spot for landscape painters of the Düsseldorf School due to the dramatic gorge through which the river flowed. To my surprise, the name was only applied in the early 19th Century to the area. It was named in honour of Joachim Neander, a Calvinist theologian and poet, who enjoyed going to the area in the 1670s. His family name was actually Neumann but his grandfather had turned it into Greek, which was apparently a fashion of the time, and “Neander” means “New Man,” as “Neumann” does in German. This was certainly a happy coincidence.
The paintings showing the gorge of the Düssel were lovely but having ridden along the river I could not imagine where it would be as the banks were quite flat on both sides. The answer is simple: there is no gorge anymore. It was quarried in the 19th Century to provide building materials until nothing was left. It was during these digging operations that workmen, in 1856, discovered the 40,000 year old human remains that became famous as Homo neanderthalensis. At first, the discoverers thought they might be bones of a bear, but a local schoolteacher, Johann Carl Fuhlrott, believed them to be bones of an ancient human species, and together with a professor of anatomy from the University of Bonn, Hermann Schaffrath, announced the discovery of another human species in 1857. At first, this was not accepted as it ran counter to literal Biblical interpretation but the publication of Darwin’s “On the Origin of Species” in November 1859 provided an explanation. Although Neanderthal bones had been discovered in Belgium and Gibraltar earlier, it was only through the work of Fuhlrott and Schaffrath, today credited as the founders of paleoanthropology, that their significance was understood.
Between the original discovery and excavations in the 1990s on the same spot (then between a car repair shop and a storage shed!), a total of sixteen Neanderthal bones were found. This would not seem to be enough to establish a museum on but in fact the museum tells the story of human development. After providing the story of the discovery, the pathway takes you through important milestones, classified under five general themes such as “Life and Survival,” or “Myths and Religion” and so forth. The museum was well-attended and it was heartening to see the number of enthusiastic children. The displays were very clear and the ideas well-documented.
After our visit to the museum, we went back across the main road and walked over the footbridge to look at the area where the bones had been found. There is really nothing much there now but a timeline is built into the path so that you can trace major developments from the arrival of Neanderthalers in the valley 200,000 years ago to the present. The original discovery site is marked with red-and-white poles and there is an area indicating the kind of plants that would have been in the valley in prehistoric times.
An easy ride brought us back to Düsseldorf and Café Bazaar on Grafenberger Allee for a coffee. In all we had ridden a mere 23 kms, but gone back in time to the origins of humans. I will revisit the friend Neanderthaler in November when there will be a special display on mammoths–and everybody loves those!
I was not the only Sunday cyclist riding along the Rhine
Taking advantage of the very rare opportunity in Düsseldorf to enjoy some weekend sunshine, I finally took the rather neglected Marinoni down from the rack and decided to make my way to the banks of the Rhine and meander down the bikepath for a while.
The route was easy as I am now getting used to riding the smaller side streets of the city and avoiding the traffic and streetcar tracks. Even nicer, the bridge over the railway tracks that joins Grüner Strasse and Jülich Strasse is closed to motor vehicles while it is undergoing repairs so I happily sailed across it all by myself on the marked bikelane.
Reaching the Rhine’s east bank, around 4 kms from the apartment, I turned right and rode along a bikepath, a little way back from the river. There are a lot of sports fields, which were well-used by people playing soccer, and there were many many joggers out as well. The bike path here is not ideal, being broad but unpaved. Further to the north, one has the choice of riding amongst the pedestrians on a wider and smoothly-paved path, or riding a bricked and rather narrow bidirectional bikepath. There were not too many pedestrians out, so I took the smoother route.
I stopped to photograph some of the barges on the Rhine. The amount of commercial river traffic must be seen to be believed and this fine Sunday was no exception. I rode past the huge Messe Düsseldorf trade fairgrounds and then alongside the municipal waterworks. The path was much better here, with few pedestrians. I would have put on some speed but for the fact that there was a massive headwind making its way south from the North Sea, so I could not get much more than a steady 28 km/h. I looked forward to the ride back, however.
It was pleasant enough to cruise along the river, and look at the barges. Sometimes I passed fields with horses and I saw a few impressive modern bridges. Aircraft passed overhead, taking off from the nearby Düsseldorf airport, one of the busiest in Germany. The landscape is fairly flat and not all that interesting here but I was not complaining as it was good to get out in the fresh air. The path turned a bit more towards the river and I passed a charming restaurant with a garden, “At the Old Rhine Ferry.” And, sure enough, just ahead was a ferry for crossing the river. There was a small village on the other side, but since a large bridge was just up the Rhine, it must be kept up by tradition. It was fairly busy, but there were pedestrians and cyclists as well as automobiles using it.
The ferry sets off against the current, all flags flying in the wind
Riding back past the inn, I found a rather narrow paved path that would lead me to my destination today, Kaiserswerth. The path was marked for pedestrians, and “frei” for cyclists, meaning I would have no special rights. It was slow going as I had to navigate carefully between the Sunday strollers with the children and dachshunds, but soon I saw some impressive ruins on the right and a bit further Marktstrasse, which seemed promising.
Kaiserswerth has been part of Düsseldorf for 80 years but is in fact an older place. It was apparently founded by St. Suitbert (or Swithbert) when he established a monastery there at the end of the 7th Century. He is one of Germany’s six (as far as I can tell) patron saints. The others include the famous St. George and then a lot of not-so-celebrated names: Kilian of Würzburg; Bruno of Cologne; Peter Canisius; and the euphonious Adalbert of Magdeburg. Canada only has two patron saints and neither has a particularly impressive name. But I digress.
The cobblestoned street was fairly easy to ride up and I saw several very old buildings. One was very much in the Dutch style and is now a restaurant, “Im Schiffchen,” a common motif in Nordrhein-Westfalen. The other was the old customshouse, and dated to the 17th Century. Around the corner was a little square with a fine church and related buildings. One was a hospital, where Florence Nightingale learned to become a nurse. Next to the church are the impressive ruins I saw while cycling along the river. These are the remains of the Kaiserpfalz, a fortified structure that was the temporary seat of the Holy Roman Emperor. The town had been known as Werth previously but the imperial association turned it into Kaiserswerth. This did not work out so well: Emperor Henry IV, who was a minor, was abducted from Kaiserswerth by the Archbishop of Cologne in 1062 as a way of establishing a regency to control the Empire.
All that remains of the Kaiserpfalz
When St. Suitbert set up his monastery, Werth was actually an island in the Rhine, and over time it became strategically very important. It changed hands a number of times during various wars, most recently in 1702 during the War of the Spanish Succession, when the French occupied it and it came under siege for two months. By the time the Allied powers defeated the French garrison (and believe me, you don’t need to know much about the causes of this war), the place was pretty much wrecked. The Kaiserpfalz, or what was left of it, was used as a quarry by local residents rebuilding. And Werth had long ceased to be an island: the Rhine silted up and the island found itself attached to the east bank of the river.
Leaving Kaiserswerth, which is a popular place although not much was going on, I rode back inland from the river a bit, passing a number of fancy equestrian establishments. I eventually rejoined the Rhine bikepath after enjoying some nicely-paved agricultural roads and arrived back home after a ride of 30 kms. A bit less, actually, because I had a flat tire about 600 m from the apartment and walked the last bit rather than fixing it on the street. Even acquiring a very sharp bit of metal in my tire was not enough to dampen my spirits after this pleasant ride. And my timing was good as soon after the skies closed in and the rain came down yet again.
Shortly after my arrival in Düsseldorf, I was walking back from the post office when I saw, down a side street, a sign for a bicycle shop, Ricci-Sports. It was late in the day and I knew the shop would be closed but I walked over anyway to look in the window. The store was conveniently located to my apartment and I was hoping to find somewhere to have my herd of bikes serviced.
From what I could see looking into the window, I could see this was no standard bike shop. The most normal thing visible was a Colnago Ferrari. Even this was the only one I had ever actually seen, as opposed to being listed for insane prices on E-Bay. There was an old Dürkopp track bike hanging on the back wall and glass cases with ancient but shiny parts. A racing tricycle, again the first I had seen in the metal, stood near the Colnago and a modern Koga Miyata racing bike. In the window was a wooden case housing a complete Campagnolo tool kit and a bright green stayer track racing bicycle.
1947 Durkopp Track Bike
I sent an e-mail to the shop’s proprietor and two evenings later I made the acquaintance of Richard Pratt, a Scottish exile from the electronics industry who followed his heart and ended up in Germany and, eventually, running a shop that might look out of sync with a modern retail operation but to lovers of classic bikes is truly an enchanted workshop.
Richard is generous with his knowledge and after warmly welcoming me into the shop, he proudly showed his impressive collection of hubs, displayed behind glass and gleaming in as-new condition, often packed in the original boxes. As a newcomer to classic racing bicycles, the names were not well-known to me–Atom? Gnutti?–but they were gorgeous. Also to be seen were NOS Lyotard pedals and some BSA parts as well.
The Newport Racer
In addition to these parts for connoisseurs, the main area of the shop housed some marvellous bicycles. The aforementioned tricycle had been built up by Richard and sported his shop name on the repainted frame. “Ricci-Sports” is the name he has adopted for the shop, both as a play on his own first name and in recognition of a lesser-known Italian bike racer, Mario Ricci, who was quite successful in his day, winning the Tour of Lombardy twice and four stages of the Giro d’Italia in the 1940s, and whose brother, Leopoldo, also raced professionally. Richard mentioned he himself had done some time-trialling when I asked him about roads around Düsseldorf suitable for training; he did not mention that he had been twice Scottish road racing champion and has contested 1,000 bike races.
The Dürkopp, a fine example of a famous German marque, dated to around 1947 and was used in the closing years of his career by legendary track racer and Six Day winner Gustav Killian. Also displayed was a late 1890s Newport Racer, manufactured in New York, as well as some classic clothing, such as a fine red Wilier jersey. In addition to the Koga Miyata (Richard also works as a mechanic for the Koga Miyata women’s pro racing team), the newest things to be seen were lovely wooden Ghisallo rims produced in Italy and for which Ricci-Sports has rights in Germany. Besides the Campagnolo corkscrew, there was also a clever wine rack in the shape of a gigantic hub, including a wingnut release!
Richard took me into the Inner Sanctum, the workshop itself. This room has more tools in it than any other bike repair shop I have known, and a lot of tools that looked as if they went back to the days of the Newport Racer. Hanging along the wall were several frames of interest, including a very nice Carlton from the 1940s, possibly originally fitted with a Campagnolo Cambio Corsa gearchange system, and a Rickert Spezial from a highly-respected German builder in Dortmund.
From his enthusiasm, it is clear that Richard can handle pretty well any bike repair and clearly takes great pleasure in classic machinery. However, he recognizes that not everyone understands his focus and so offers a range of modern equipment and coaching/training for riders. He was very generous with his time and we talked about track racing in Düsseldorf and doing some training together.
He is working on a history of wooden rims and regaled me with the story of A.C. Fairbanks, known to me as a producer of banjos but who introduced wooden bicycle rims to the world in 1893 and whose Fairbanks Wood Rim Company had large plants in the USA and England. On parting, he insisted on presenting me with a racing cap from one of the teams of Fausto Coppi’s twilight years, a cap that may (or may not) have belonged to Il Campionissimo himself.
Richard’s website, a work in progress, shows some of his treasures and has much to interest enthusiasts of classic lightweight bikes. It is well worth stopping by his shop (although I think he needs an espresso machine) which can be easily found in Düsseldorf at Grunerstrasse 35. Give him a call first as the hours are somewhat variable depending on what he has on the go.
