Cycling the Etruscan Coast, Retro-Style

Our good friends at Tommasini are working with L'Etrusca, an Italian retro-tour that began in 2013. It will run April 9-10, 2016 from Bolgheri, west of Florence and the routes range from a 27 km "L'Elegante" to a robust 160 km ride with lots of gravel.  And attention, Gran Fondo overchargers: the cost for the long route is 25 Euros if you register early!  Information about the ride (mainly in Italian) can be found here.

Until then, enjoy this video!

E-Bay Steel Bicycle Christmas!

Pretty well every cycling enthusiast I know like to surf through E-Bay.com to find parts, clothing and complete bicycles, even if sometimes this is just window shopping.  Bicycle stuff is ideal for auction as buyers are all around the world and parts can be shipped easily enough.  Sometimes there are real prizes to be found and since it is Christmas Eve I have found three delicious things, any one of which would find a welcome place under my tree tonight.

First up: a very nice restored 1976 California Masi built by legendary framebuilder Mario Confente as an example of his craftsmanship.  It has been restored by noted builder Brian Bayliss and can be purchased from its current owner in North Carolina for US $12,500, including a lot of nice Masi memorabilia.  Shipping worldwide is a reasonable and very specific US$ 495.07.

If this bicycle is too recent for your tastes or you prefer classic randonneuring, E-Bay will not let you down as there is an excellent unrestored 1973 Rene Herse classic available today and the auction price of US$14,750 not only buys you this rare piece of French craftsmanship but also includes two tickets to the 2015 Colorado Bike Expo.  The shipping cost of US$900 gives one pause, however.

These bicycles are the price of an excellent used car but for those with more elevated ambitions, here is a bicycle that costs the price of an excellent new car but is a lot less practical.  It is one of multiple Tour de France winner Miguel Indurain's Pinarello time trial bikes and dates to the first half of the 1992 season.  Apparently Big Mig likes to hold onto his bicycles so it is unusual to come on the market.  Even if not ridden at the Tour, it seems like a bargain to me at US$74,999.  Happily shipping is only US$1!

There has been a tradition in stories or movies of having a bright-eyed child unwrapping a shiny new two-wheeler on Christmas morning.  Think of the thrill that one of these would bring!

The Joy of Retro

The rediscovery of vintage bicycles has brought new enthusiasts into the fold and it was fun to watch this video highlighting the difference between modern and classic bicycles, the latter being one of Stephen Roche's race-winning mounts.  There are definite disadvantages to old technology.  The brakes in the pre-dual pivot era were not very good; the hairnet "helmet" is completely useless and even though it might ruin the look I use a modern helmet whenever I ride; and the clip-and-strap pedals are not very good as to be effect the straps have to be tightened up enough that they are difficult to get out of quickly.  And, yes, the gearing sometimes seems crazy to me.  Several of my bikes came with a 44-tooth chainring as the small one!

On the positive side, friction shifting seems to work well with the short cable run, there is nothing too difficult to work on, the frames tend to be comfortable and offer a smooth ride and the aesthetic value of these colourful bikes is superior to lookalike carbon bikes, although style is of course always a matter of personal opinion.   Steel bikes evoke a classic era not only in racing but touring as well and it is a good thing to see that what was once perceived as obsolete is making a comeback.  Retro rules!

Book Review: “Wiener Mechanikerfahräder 1930-1980”

 

Vienna: it conjures up images of schnitzel, strudel and Johann Strauss waltzes but a new book from a tradition-rich publishing house in the Austrian capital reveals another aspect of the city now nearly forgotten: the construction of bicycles, often in tiny workshops and to a surprisingly high technical and aesthetic standard.  The book “Wiener Mechanikerräder 1930-1980” confirms its authors’ contention that “Vienna is big but the range of its bicycle manufacturers was once even bigger.”

In 1930 Vienna had more than 100 makes of bicycle and for the next half-century brands would come and go.  The marques in this book, teutonically organized from “Alpenrad” to “Ziel” by the four (!) authors, have been painstakingly researched and the heading of each chapter indicates when the company existed, who owned it, how long the brand was in production, the location of the workshop, whether the firm produced its own bikes or brought in bikes under its own name from elsewhere and sources of information.  The effort to uncover all of these things must have been daunting and indicative of the fanatical obsession of collectors of which the authors are representative.  One of them owns 85 racing bikes.  Reference is made to the “tide of bikes” occupying basements and that during research for the book the authors managed to accumulate 16 more bicycles and eight frames!

 

 

From the number of brands it seems as if pretty much every Viennese bicycle shop must have had its own production as the beautifully-produced volume is over 350 pages in length.  This is understandable perhaps as in the Age of Steel building up a bike was a fairly straightforward tube-brazing operation with components coming from a few large suppliers.  In the winter months the shops could be occupied with production for the coming year.  However, the imaginative Austrians were not limited in their cycling vision and some of the bikes featured here have aluminum lugs screwed into lightweight steel tubes or aerodynamically-shaped tubing or even a leaf spring suspended frame.  There were folding bikes and aluminum children’s bikes and bicycles with jewel-like paint finishes.  It is proper that this book is Volume 2 in the series “Austrian Technical History.”

 

"Wiener Mechanikerfahräder” has a charming, personal touch to it, perhaps because the companies and framebuilders really were so individual.  One is struck by the brand names.   Some, such as “Williams,”  “the Champ,” “Sussex” or “Champion” were meant to convince buyers that they perhaps reflected the glory of English manufacturers.  But a larger group used the names of the builders, usually taking the first two initials of the first and last names.  Hence: BBW (Bruno Beranke Wien); Capo (Otto Cap); Elan (Eduard Lachnit); Er-We (Eduard Reininger); FAB (Fahrradhaus Adolf Blum); FH (Franz Hrabalek); Frado (Franz Dorfinger); Frigo (Friedrich Gollerstepper); Friha (Friedrich Hamedl); Geoga (Georg Gartner); Igro (Josef Grosstab); JoWi (Josef Wilfing); Mipf (Michael Pfeiffer); and so forth. 

 

In addition to the racing bicycles one would expect to find there are plenty of lady’s road bikes, the odd bike used for indoor ball games and some very cool children’s bikes, including one that could alternatively be used as a scooter.  Some of the companies offered a wide product line.  The producers of the “Select” brand, which made its own bicycles from 1947 until at least the 1980s, offered track and road bikes of excellent quality and the book features thirteen of them, including a remarkable bike meant for mountain road racing and built with a split seat tube to allow a very short wheelbase by moving the rear wheel forward, an idea taken up in these later times of composites by others using curved seat tubes.  “Select” enjoy the services of a virtuoso framebuilder, Michael Steinkellner, whose “S” initial was placed on the seatstays.

 

In addition to the excellent full colour photographs of Philipp Horak there are vintage black-and-white photos showing the cycling scene in Vienna in the period covered in the book, with lots of local race meets and local heroes.  The accompanying text is quite interesting as well and often reveals the sly humour of the Viennese.  If you don’t read German you will miss that but the quality of the book and the wealth of photos certainly obviates the need to go for language classes.

 

The old bike hobby is a niche within the greater cycling community, which in itself (at least as far as racing bicycles go) is simply a larger niche.  Upon learning of this book we thought that this must be the most obscure topic that anyone could write about (and we own three books on the history of variable gearing).  French, Italian and English builders have had global fame but, as the book admits, the brands highlighted here were “world-famous in Vienna.”  The book is of very high quality and not inexpensive but the publisher has told us that more than half of the print run of “Wiener Mechanikerfahräder” has already been sold although the book only was published this year.  And of course if you don’t want to shell out the 59 Euros (approx. US$ 83) plus shipping for the book you can order a lovely calendar featuring photographs from it for 19.95 Euros and shipping. 

The subtext of the book is “From Zero to One Hundred to Zero.”  Of the 100 different brands described only one company, Capo, still exists.  Yet there is hope as there is a brief chapter on the brave few framebuilders who are working in Vienna today, including Peter Gross although another, Hans Pöllhuber, who operates a store and workshop, has given up framebuilding himself as uneconomic. 



Many of the builders and brands in the book are known only from a single frame and the authors present a number of mystery frames they have found and invite readers to send them any information about them they might have.  Another personal touch.

 

“Wiener Mechanikerfahräder 1930-1980” might be about an obscure era to anyone outside of Vienna but this book is a true labour of love and a source of great entertainment if you like old bicycles and want to dip into a different world around them.  “World-famous in Vienna” deserves to be just world-famous and would make an excellent gift, ideal for browsing through on those long winter evenings while enjoying a Café Melange mit Schlagobers.

For more information and to order the book or calendar go to:

http://www.wiener-machanikerraeder.at/ or http://www.hollinek.at/

“Wiener Mechanikerfahräder 1930-1980”

by Michael Zappe, Walter Schmidl, Martin Strubreiter and Werner Schuster,

 with photos by Philipp Horak

347 pp, ill. With text in German

ISBN 978-3-85119-342-8

Verlag Brüder Hollinek, Purkersdorf, Austria, 2013

59 Euros, plus shipping

La Savoureuse—a tasty ride in Belgium!

With the runaway success of l'Eroica in Italy (with its 17^th edition just completed and now about to be franchised to the United Kingdom and Japan), retro-rides continue to blossom. With the enthusiastic participation of local tourism agencies we see new events throughout Europe. Having participated in the 6th Retro-Ronde in Flanders in May, I was bound to go to the other linguistic half of the country for another Belgian retro-ride and was present for the inaugural edition of “La Savoureuse” in French-speaking Wallonia at Ciney on August 25.

The chateau at Parc Saint-Roch, Ciney

It was an easy two hour early morning Sunday drive, taking me past Namur on lightly-travel roads in Belgium to the Parc Saint-Roch in the centre of Ciney where cars with bikes on their roof carriers were already beginning to crowd the little parking lot. The organizers had set themselves up in a tent in front of the stone chateau, which was an impressive building with a big gate but in fact had only been built in 1906 but in the style of an older building. Changing facilities were pretty limited There were lots of vintage bikes to be seen in the inner courtyard, with famous brands from the Netherlands and Italy evident, along with a few British rarities and some unidentifiable marques. Along with a few Merckxes, my Cicli Diamant was about the only Belgian-made bicycle around. Unlike l'Eroica, the Retro-Ronde or Anjou Velo Vintage, there was no real bicycle market featured although a custom framebuilder had a display and there was at least one tent with old bikes.

Registration was very quickly accomplished and everyone received a nice cloth musette with the “La Savoureuse” logo printed on it and containing a number for the bike, along with plastic cables ties, a wristband with sections to tear off at each of the food stops, and a “Carnet de Route,” providing information about the routes (20/60/90 kms). There were also some brochures from the sponsors, including the primary one, the Maison de Tourisme Condroz-Famenne, which was promoting the “Vallées des Saveurs,” or the “Valleys of Flavours” and hence the name of the ride. Additional brochures informed us of other events, including the Festival of the Tomato and Its Family, as well as the Festival of the Cheese Route. Ah, Europe!

As an aside, as is the case with other events like this one must give credit for the excellent graphics employed. The La Savoureuse posters (in Flemish and French) look wonderful and the website (www.lasavoureuse.be in French and English) is also an example of commendable design.

Getting ready to roll: old guys on old bikes

The starting gun was fired at the very civilized time of 10:30 and the assembled mass of cyclists rolled gently through the stone arch gate and up a little hill, where already some of the riders experienced some athletic challenges. The rules of participation are quite liberal: a bicycle built before 1987 (or one built in the traditional way of steel frames), downtube shift levers if it has variable gears, and no clipless pedals. Singlespeed and fixed gear bikes are allowed (but no carbon ones!), and, oddly Brompton folders. There were some very fine bikes, including a rare and beautiful Rene Herse, as well as the heavy “roadsters” beloved by participants in Tweed Runs. The organizers suggested suitable clothing and although I did not entirely return to the moustache era I had my appropriate RSV Vagabund '13 (our imaginary classic cycling club) wool jersey, cotton cycling cap, white socks (of course!), retro Roeckl gloves and a pair of Wayfarer-style sunglasses. However, while it makes a much better photo if you are not wearing a helmet, and riders in Europe don't seem to care about them at these events, this was my first long ride without modern head protection in many years and it made me somewhat uncomfortable.

photo by la Maison de Tourisme Condroz-Famenne

The weather had been forecast to be quite poor but by the time we left it looked fine and I dispensed with my rain jacket. Nobody at these events goes particularly fast but I found myself overtaking many people as my bicycle, from the late 1970s, would have been one of the more modern ones but just as I was coming nicely into a rhythm it was time to stop at the Chateau de Ry for our first food stop. We had ridden all of 9 kms.

One of the stated goals of the ride was to provide participants with a sampling of the local products in the “Valleys of Flavours.” The Chateau, a private estate that has always been in the hands of the Counts d'Aspremont Lynden, was built in 1598 and is sited in a lovely park. We rolled in along the gravel driveway, set up our bikes where convenient and lined up for a glass of champagne and a “sucette de foie gras,” or chocolate-covered pate of duck liver. This is quite different than the usual bananas and energy bars!

After chatting with a British couple in period costume who had gotten some rental bicycles for the event, I returned to my bicycle and proceeded up some steepish hills, riding through the villages of Nettinne, Heure, Moressee and Maffe and was beginning to think that the next food stop would be coming up soon. However, although the route was well-marked I somehow managed to miss the second stop at 24 kms entirely. This was a bitter disappointment as the featured delicacies were beer and sandwiches made with local cheese.

The 90 km route is a Figure 8 and when I came to Hamois I found another food stop but in fact this was the fifth one but I used up one of my wrist band coupons and had a glass of beer, even if it was out of sequence. There was live music, which was the case at most of the stops, and a party atmosphere. I also noticed that there was no other food but did not realize that this could be a problem later.

The next stretch from Hamois via Havelange through Petit-Avin was along a very nicely constructed trail built on an old railway right of way. There were signs along the route with photos of what things had once looked like and a had a brief stop across from an old station to read about the nearby sanitarium where patients from Brussels had once been treated.

Stop 3 was a farmyard in Ossogne, where I enjoyed fresh strawberries prior to setting off down the road the wrong way. I had thrilling descent on a wonderful road with new asphalt before realizing it was the wrong direction, so I turned around and dragged myself back up the big hill and found the signs pointing me the right way.

Stop 4 in Barsy was located next to an unusual museum, the private Musée Monopoli, which looked like a fun place where lots of old automatons, mechanical musical instruments and other oddities were on display. I enjoyed a soft ice cream here and then headed southwest in the right direction. At least I thought it was until I realized I had not seen any route signs for a while. I may have been lost but I was making good time and as I sprinted along the empty road I was immortalized on video by a crew filming the event.

LA SAVOUREUSE (Balade à vélo vintage) from D-Mo Prod. on Vimeo.
 

At one point I rode up a gravel road and came to an intersection where, a moment later, another cyclist doing the ride went by and I joined him as we rode back towards Hamois (where I would not be entitled to another beer). We had a nice conversation en français and rejoined the rail-trail bike route but then he flatted near Emptinne and insisted I go on. I retraced my route to Hamois and then turned around and came back with a fast return to Ciney. My 90 km course had somehow become 97 kms, with 1300 m of climbing. The roads were generally good, cobbles and gravel were minimal but there were some challenging uphills as we passed through charming rural Wallonia. But as much as I enjoyed my strawberries and champagne, the lack of food during the ride was telling. Luckily I had bought some energy bars with me since there were no stores or bakeries to be found en route. This problem, and the lack of showers at the finish, are the only criticisms I can make of what was an excellent organized ride and I am sure that the other 170 “pioneers” who rode the first La Savoureuse would agree.

Rolling back into the grounds of the Chateau at Ciney there was lots going on as the bar was doing good business, as was the barbecue. And no wonder: Belgian beer cannot be passed up after a nice bicycle ride, a Balade a Velo Vintage, like La Savoureuse. The other attraction was the drawing for all sorts of great prizes, including more beer but also baskets of local products, some snappy vintage-style clothing and, best of all, a handbuilt frame, presented by the builder himself and won by an older Belgian who was beyond ecstatic, to everyone's huge amusement.

Every retro-ride has a different character but they all share one thing in common: all the participants are there to have fun!

Men of Steel

From the column“Schlussattacke” by Martin Gerstner

Roadbike magazine, 04/2013, p. 145

translated from the German original by the Sprocketboy

The issue of this magazine lies heavily in one's hand since we print it on thick handmade paper and bind it in a cover made up of multiple layers of pressed airmail paper. It was written on an Olympia typewriter, made in 1954 and taken from the Land Surveyor’s Office in Cologne. Typing mistakes are corrected using 60-grit sandpaper. With the return to the working methods of yesterday we prove our reverence for the retro-trend in cycling.

About time too, as everything was becoming too easy. Our articles are cut-and-pasted from old texts; in our carbon racing bikes we hide electric motors; with the GPS on our handlebars we are told what route to follow. It could not go on like this. Mankind, and especially cyclists, was born to suffer. We do not seek perfection but the romance of failure—even on our local 35 km circuit.

So more and more cyclists are dragging old steel steeds out of the basement and parade in wool jerseys with mysterious names like “Molteni” embroidered on them. Fumbling with the downtube shift levers means sometimes falling in the street but wearing a flat cap and a 3-day growth of beard makes it seem that much more daring. Their lace-up shoes are 100% water-permeable and make every ride in the rain into torture. The silhouette of the retro-rider reminds one of the Michelin Man: with 42/22 gearing he develops huge thighs and always rides with 2 pounds of steak in his cycling shorts.

When getting his hands caught up in the loops of the brake cables while reaching for his smartphone the retro-rider must long for the trend to turn back to the modern lightweight bike. But until then we will stay true: in the next issue we will provide details of how you can change tubular tires using your teeth.

(Dedicated to my many retro-friends: Nick, Tom, Bernd, Corey, Dale, Peter W., Ricci, Karsten and Konrad and the Klassikerausfahrtgruppe, English Dave, Irish Dave and all the rest).