Firstly, thank you for your feedback on yesterday’s post. While I wouldn’t go so far as to say we reached a decision, I think we can all agree that the Teledyne represents the “thinking person’s” choice in that it would afford the opportunity for analysis of the relative attributes of titanium as a frame material as well as how its implementation in that capacity has evolved over the decades:
The Colnago is the “self-indulgent” choice in that it’s clearly the bike that would be most enjoyable to ride:
And the Kestrel would be the “gratifying” choice (to everyone except me) because it’s the bike upon I would look most ridiculous:
Clearly I’ve got a lot to think about.
Speaking of the candidates for my next “Classic Cycle Thursday” bike, a number of readers noted the Spinergy wheels on the Colnago, which were quite a popular item “back in the day:”
Having even been ridden in various “colorways” by the “Smarm King” himself:
Yes, back then Spinergys were the second-most frightening pair of vaguely circular objects you could find between Mario Cipollini’s legs–and I do mean “vaguely,” too, because for awhile I had a single rear Spinergy and it was slightly wobbly yet totally untruable due to that squirrel-severing design. The wheel was a long-term loaner from the shop to replace a malfunctioning Mavic something-or-other that had to go back to the factory in order to be taunted in French, or else caressed by a diminutive Frenchman, I can no longer recall:
Anyway, despite being a bit wonky the Spinergy also felt quite heavy, and overall my impressions of it were not particularly favorable. However, I did think it looked cool, especially with a regular metal-spoked wheel in the front, and so I rode it anyway until I got my own wheel back. During my time with the Spinergy it never ass-ploded, and while it may not have been totally true it never got any less true either, so even though people like to make fun of them I’d imagine they’re at least as good as half the wheels out there today.
Another bit of arcanum that leaps to mind is that, during this same period, Cipollini used the old pointy-hooded Campagnolo Ergo levers from the 8- or 9-speed era that he preferred, only with the then-new 10-speed internals somehow jammed into them. I can’t remember the details, and maybe I’m getting all this wrong, but Cipollini making his mechanic retrofit his levers because he liked the points seems like just the sort of rock star affectation you’d expect from Super Mario, a.k.a. the “Unction Junction.”
Of course, if Grant Petersen had been Cipollini’s mechanic (now there’s a sitcom for you) he would have insisted Mario use friction shifters, which I continue to enjoy on my A. Homer Hilsen:
I’m pleased to announce I’m now officially totally used to the low-normal derailleur and no longer have to think about it before shifting. I also remain deeply enamored of this bicycle, and if I accomplish nothing else as a semi-professional bike blogger (and at this point in my life it’s highly unlikely I’ll accomplish much else), having gotten my grubby mitts on a bike like this makes the entire endeavor worth it:
I mean yes, I do miss the days when school was a thing and I could spend hours at a time stringing together various trails and bits of singletrack on the Jones:
But compressing my mixed-terrain ramblings into be-jorted jaunts on the Rivendell has been sustaining me in the meantime.
Finally, life in general has yet to return to normal, but the traffic at least is getting a head start:
This is exactly what I was talking about in my last Outside column, and for the foreseeable future I’m willing to bet this is the way it’s gonna be:
It’s the end of the bike lane bull run.