99 YEARS OF FAUSTO

99 years ago today, in a tiny village called Castellania above Novi Ligure, Fausto Coppi, the second Campionissimo, was born (the first being my hero, Girardengo, born just down the hill in Novi some 26 years earlier).

I was lucky enough to make a pilgrimage there in 2012. You begin to sense the history on the long road up the hill towards the town in the middle of (or on top of) nowhere. Around twisty bends, 100-year-old buildings are covered in mega posters of their champion.

I was able to talk my way into his childhood home, normally a museum and closed for most of the year and certainly on a January evening. A modest donation to the caretaker and the guided tour was on by a cousin of the great Coppi! Honestly, I think everyone in town claims to be a close relative. Why not?

The great Italian sports writer (and much more than that) Gianni Brera described Fausto Coppi:

“The bicycle is his the other half. He forgets about his looks, with his breastbone that could be stolen from a chicken, his short neck, his shoulders practically attached to his face, and his two feet that look like seal fins. The bike becomes a part of himself and his lopsided bones.”

Not what you would expect from someone who would become the most important sporting icon in Italy and the cultural symbol of a postwar nation trying to enter the modern age. He seemed fragile, but unbeatable on a bike. The kind of thing that every scrawny kid imagines when turning his pedals in anger...

Fausto and Serse's final resting place.

Fausto's childhood bedroom.

Serse's room.

Local shops still post his photo in the window.

Guide to monuments around Italy dedicated to Coppi.

To the left of il Gira, Coppi's wall at the Museo dei Campionissimi in Novi Ligure.

Some Winter Reading

Aside from getting the bib tights and balaclava out, winter also means more time by the fire struggling to get through some Italian cycling history books. Here is what's on the reading list this year...

Ganna went missing this summer only to be found a few weeks ago. His is a great story, the first real champion of the pioneer days of Italian cycling. His battles with the devilish cheater Giovanni Gerbi are great fodder to file under 'unbelievable'. I just finished this one, but it deserves another look, as the months it went missing left my memory of it a bit disjointed.

One thing Ganna lead me to was this book by famous sports journalist Gianni Brera, l'Avocatt in Bicicletta just showed up thanks to Amazon Italy. I know, Amazon is under fire these days, maybe rightfully so. But outside of eBay and a trip to Italy, how else are you going to buy this!?! Pavesi raced for a different team in each of his seasons from '04 until '19, sometimes two teams. He went on to manage the Legnano team for the better part of forty years!

Speaking of eBay, this rare and beat up original print of the Alfredo Binda memoirs turned up this spring. It's aged, rough and was printed during the fascist regime in 1931! The style is a bit aged as well, making for some tough translating!

This book took a while to get through the first time. It's the best story out there, of the greatest champion the cycling world has ever known (yeah, I just said that). 

Sante Pollastro was the Italian Robin Hood who grew up in the cycling-mad area around Novi Ligure. Poor as a child, he resorted to theft and eventually the shooting of a number of police to avoid capture. This book traces his steps and follows the threads that connect him with Costante Girardengo, the first campionissimo. The most intriguing connection would be at Paris' Velodrome d'Hiver, when Pollastro, a Gira tifoso, gave a famous whistle in the Novi 'dialect' to get the attention of, and eventually have a meeting with Gira. Rumor has it that Gira betrayed Sante, which eventually led to his capture. Don't confuse this book with the horribly-inaccurate RAI production of a few years ago.

My more-complete review is here. I only mention this book again, as the Kindle version just found its way into my iPad and I'll be pushing through it again.

Lo Sport Illustrato 06/02/1949

Item three is ready, here! This issue covers the first eight stages of the 1949 Giro d'Italia. What I love are the team sponsors: Atala, Benotto, Bianchi, Bottecchia, Ganna, Legnano, Stucchi, Viscontea... One wonders if we're starting to head back that direction with the likes of: Leopard-Trek, Garmin-Cervelo, BMC, and my favorite of them all... Liquigas-Cannondale!

My l'Eroica!

I woke up at 3:45 and started my adventure off by packing my bags and cramming as much food into me as possible at that hour. A half hour drive to Gaiole later and I was busily preparing the bike and everything I was going to need for a long day in the saddle.

In the square, I was among the first hundred or so to take the line. BUT - I forgot my stamp book at the car! By the time I had made my way back, a large group had already left. I'd just have to catch them on the first easy climb up to the Brolio castle.

With my limited gearing, I knew the first part was not going to be an issue, having ridden it the day before. When I got to the first gravel climb at Brolio, I found it had been lit all the way up on both sides by candles! In the 5:30 darkness, it was quite a site. It was here that I found some friends from Tommasini, who I would continue to meet up with during the first half of the day. Like 99% of the riders, they were on 80's bikes with rational gearing, so they had quite an advantage and would kill me on the climbs like the rest!

On the run into Siena, I was moving along quite well and got in with a German group who were dressed and equipped quite well. The bianca to Radi held a nice surprise for me. In my 40x15, I bottomed out the downhill only to take a quick right up a steep gravel climb! Mis-shift! I had to stop, mess with my wheel/chain tension, remount, head back down hill, turn around and shift for the climb! Luckily, that would be my only mishap of the day.

At the Radi ristoro (food stop), I found my friend Osvaldo, who was a team Liquigas bus driver and really surprised to see me and my old bike. We did the section to Piana together, as he was with a friend who needed to turn at the 135km route. At this point, I made the 205km decision and quickly found myself alone for a good 15km.

The long, steep gravel climb towards Montalcino had me pushing as hard as possible in my easiest gear. I was able to manage all but the final 100 meters, where I had to get off and walk. That is one tough climb on a normal bike! It took me a while after that to start to feel somewhat better, and the only part of the second 100km that I felt good was on the faster gravel sections, where I could use some bike handling skills and lack of fear of crashing to fly over the strade bianche and pass a good number of people. Of course, they'd pass me as soon as the road headed up! I got a number of looks and compliments on the bike. It was definitely one of the oldest bikes on the long course - I didn't see any older.

I did come across a young guy on a Galetti with cambia corsa. We talked at one of the ristori (where I guess I managed to forget to get a stamp!). He had a rough night's sleep in the campground and was feeling the effects of lack of gearing (his was far worse than mine, but he was half my age!). I last saw Massimo sleeping next to his bike at the Pieve ristoro. I'm sure he passed me later, but I was likely bleary-eyed on the ensuing climbs! Nice job, Massimo!

I never really bonked, but that's mainly because I ate as much as I could at the ristori. Two in particular were offering bowls of ribollita, which were lifesavers.

The finale went quite well, having also ridden that part on Saturday. I stopped in Radda and literally drank a huge banana yogurt (not the best idea, but I only had 10km to go at that point). I climbed up after that and then descended to Gaiole, crossing the line at 7:15pm, fourteen hours and five minutes after departing!

l'Eroica is the best fun I've had on a bike in a long time. Even suffering from the effort and the bit of digestion trouble, I noticed I was grinning for most of those fourteen hours (ok, except for that one picture up there!). I'm already planning my bike and how I'll attack this thing in 2011 with a Paris-Roubaix shifting system. There's no wonder this was listed as one of the top 50 sporting events to do recently.

Historical Italian Constructor Registry

Here's one to bookmark! In the comments of this article, blogger P. De Sade is attempting to construct a registry of local Italian bike builders. In the past year, I've learned far more about Italian bike history than I thought possible, even without many written resources, thanks to guys like this on the net. With l'Eroica just a week away, I'm hoping to meet more of them in person... most likely as I'm handing over Euros to buy their vintage parts!

Sono Bartaliano... quasi

The Legnano is on the shelf for a couple of weeks. It seems I need to re-space the wheel or spread the rear triangle. The rear hub was a tight fit by 4mm and as it moves back and forth in the dropouts, it needs to fit just so. Unfortunately, it comes as I'm headed to the US to work for a bit. Oh well. I also have developed some pain in my wrist when I ride the old narrow handlebars with weird hand positions. Oh well.

The good news is that I'm able to shift fairly well at this point. I just need to get some good legs in the next 2 months before l'Eroica. Looks like I'll be resuming training on the new bikes again.

I found this chair at a start village at the Tour this year. I was also sent a great piece of digital artwork of l'intramontabile shifting a cambio corsa while climbing. Anyone know who did this, or where I can get a nice print?

A few weeks ago, I ran into an old Italian Coppisti who lambasted me for my Legnano... being a Coppi fan, a Bianchi was the only legitimate bike of the era. We argued for quite a while on the point, even though I had no real reason to... but he was Italian so I think I made his day.

Tour Rest Day: Pau, 1947/2010

Never one to shy away from the crowd of fans, I decided to go for a ride with the Liquigas boys yesterday. Of course, I brought the Legnano with me, which means full on retro clothes and the rest. To fully appreciate the technology of today, don't you need to understand the tech from the past? In the old days, riders actually had to think and plan before shifting! Everyone was quite interested in the cambio corsa and I tried to explain it as best as I could in Italian, French and English. 'My' mechanics Arco and Gian Carlo, who helped me with finding certain parts, were amazed that I built this thing up myself and that it works. Of course, they gave me loads of crap, all in good fun (I think).

Since the Liquigas guys were on a rest day, they were going to go for only an hour and a half. I figured I could stay with them even with my limited gearing. Once we got out into the countryside, you could hear me coming from a mile away - my alloy waterbottles bouncing around in their cages on the rough roads.

At one point, the guys stopped for a nature break. I kept going, taking the opportunity to shift gears safely. Unfortunately, they decided to turn around. Luckily, Francesco Bellotti came to get me. We chased - me spinning as fast as I could in my 40/14 - and finally got back on. Time to shift back to the 16, since the 14 was making some noise. I think the chain was a bit too tight for this ride - gotta look into it. ZZZIIINNNGGG - my fingers touched the rear tire slightly, but loud enough that Roman Kreuziger heard from behind and came up next to me with a big smile. "I knew you'd do that! You better be careful or you'll lose a finger in that wheel!" A good thing to remember, indeed!

1948 Legnano Cambio Corsa, Finished & Ready for L'Eroica!

Six months of patient waiting, research, eBay'ing and obsessing over restoring this jewel have paid off. Ciöcc proudly finished the paint and decals this past week, so yet another quick drive down on the weekend was in order. He reminded me for the n'th time that it was he who build the Legnano that Fondriest won his world title on in 1988, so he had the formula for the correct shade of Legnano green. I made a late decision to go with only the true decals once I saw the color, so I left a few off to make it a bit more 'period correct'. The build went quite easily and on Sunday morning, it was ready for its maiden voyage.

I donned my replica Legnano wool jersey (and a smartwool undershirt to ease the itching) and headed out into the 26 degree (C) heat with a huge smile on my face. The first shift of the cambio corsa wasn't so hot. You can see in the first photo that the chain had a bit of slack in it (not real easy to set this up in a stand - you need weight on the wheel). I quick tug on the rear wheel and I was ready to try again and to my surprise, it works! It not only works, it works quite well! For two hours, I rode around the French countryside with limited gearing, grinding up the rolling hill with my four speeds, drinking from my two alloy bottles. I can't say that I can shift this thing as well as Bartali (or even Aldo, for that matter), but I'm pretty confident that experience will pay off. Remember - open the wheel qr lever, backpedal, shift the smaller lever, close the qr, pedal forward. When it shifts, the wheel will "walk" up or down the dropout to tension your chain... awesome stuff from Vicenza!

What surprised me is how well this antique rides. Those guys clearly knew what they were doing back in the day. The long wheelbase, long rake and stable geometry was designed for the days when roads were rough - no hands is super easy on this, even with the water ballast hanging off my handlebars. It was Masi who pulled the seatpost out of the frame and started what we now know as "modern geometry". The only thing that worries me about putting this thing through 200km is the unforgiving hand position. The track bend is sweet, but the bars are really thin, and the cloth tape just isn't doing my palms any justice.

PS - the head tube badge I found is just off. Evidently, it takes a slightly larger badge. I'm now on the hunt. Luckily, I have a virtual friend in Nove Ligure who is a Legnano expert!

Before-during-after photos are on my flickr page.

Restoration Update

So Ciöcc finally has everything he needs to finish my two old frames. I hope to pick them up next week after getting back from the Tour. Having finally found all the packages sent by me and others, we now have the proper Legnano and Galmozzi decals to finish them up. I say 'proper' loosely, as this is a subject I'll likely receive some grief over once they're built... and I'm calling it now! You see, the thing with collectors is that their discussions rarely get past whether something is "original" or "restored" or "period correct". In my case, I really don't care that much. I'm restoring these babies to do one thing... RIDE 'EM!

That Galmozzi decal with the address would most likely not be found on a bike made in the 50's. Guess what? I don't care - I like it, and it will look great adorning my seat tube! The head tube badge is a repro. Guess what - ALL collectors in Italy tell me that my chances of finding a real one are about nil.

The '47 Legnano would not have chrome on the dropouts, or at least four of the decals that I'm going to place on it. But, it's going to look SO much nicer with them.

The point is, these things lost their resell value to collectors the moment I found them without their original paint. So... Jimmy crack corn! Another point I've learned is that back then, large decals weren't easy to make reliably, so bike graphics weren't the advertising that they are today. Also, they didn't make these bikes knowing that they'd be so desirable sixty years later. Lots of detail has been lost through the years. What crank did Cannondale spec on a 2002 R1000? I bet you can find that answer within five minutes of a Google search. Now - what brakes would you find on a 1952 Roma? Guess what - Legnano most likely ran out and switched to whatever was lying around!

Other things not likely to find for a reasonable price? Jerseys and bottles. So, check out what you CAN find on a trip to Tuscany. Seems l'Eroica has been good for those able to reproduce certain desirables!

OK, off the soapbox now, and off to the Tour!

As Joel Says, 'I'm eatin' wet food tonight!'

Took the opportunity to do some vintage shopping at Via Bicycle in Philly this morning... WOW! I was able to pick up some Universal & Balilla parts for the Legnano retoration, plus a 'hairnet' in great condition. The collection is incredible, if you're into piles of classic old bikes and parts (which I am).

Old Legnano and Bianchi Signs

So my late purchase at the Reggio swap were these two old signs. A rusted out Legnano and a heavy "cardboard" Bianchi, both terribly dirty but also terribly vintage! I got them from a moto guy who was asking FAR less than the "sign guy", who wanted hundreds of euros for some better looking ones. If you ask me, I like these better anyway!

Vintage Bike Swap, Reggio nell'Emilia!

Italians love (in no particular order): Mamma, calcio, ciclismo... and motorcycles and cars! I got tipped off that there was to be a big vintage car/moto/bike swap meet in Italy so - off I went! Early Sunday morning, I was speeding off once again toward the boot with Euros in hand hoping to learn a little and pick up a few of those small finishing parts for my 2 old bikes.

Upon arrival, I had not expected to see such a huge footprint. C.A.M.E.R. (Club Auto Moto d'Epoca Reggiano) took up the entire Reggio nell'Emilia fiera (fairgrounds). Unfortunately, it was mostly motos and cars, but the five or six stands for vintage bikes were put on by the cognoscenti of Italian collectors.

The first stand I loitered at for a few minutes had tubs full of FB cranks, hubs... whatever I would have needed if I wasn't already set. Gaslo tape, brake hoods, saddles, old shoes, wool jerseys, it was all to be found in abundance here, even with just a few stands dedicated to bikes.

Luckily, I overheard a little english which led me to meeting John Barron of Velostuf and Cinelli collecting fame. He, his wife and I proceeded to a few more stands and I was happy to lend a translating hand when needed, although he does pretty good by himself. I was also able to pick up a lot of info, history and tips from him.

The better-known Italians in the vintage world were here, and all proved to be extremely helpful. Guys like Ermes Leonardi, Roberto Doganieri, Enzo Pancari, and Luciano Berruti (who recently opened a museum in Cosseria with a large donation from his collection). Berruti is usually the guy doing l'Eroica on the oldest of bikes, with his long mustache and high wheelers.

So what was my haul, besides a sore back from the 9 hours of driving? Balilla brake hoods, Campy repro hoods, 3 colors of old housing, a new pair of old-style shoes, an Atala bell(!), and three gems... Gaslo bar end caps (these 2 aluminum pieces consistently fetch well over $100 on eBay); an old beat up steel Legnano sign; and an old "cardboard" Bianchi sign. I'll have to post these separately, as I also broke rule #1 - bring a good camera. Here is the best of what I could capture on my iPhone...

Monday I was able to put the new shoes to the test. Donning my best wool jersey and Rapha cap, I took the blue Galmozzi out for a quick spin, climbing an easy hill or two in the large ring (preparing myself for limited gearing on the older bikes). I'll just say... the bike rides like a dream and I'm now HYPER-motivated to do l'Eroica and other vintage randonees.

Recognize This Statue?

On the way home from Italy recently, I purposefully made a 'wrong' turn onto the A8 towards the airport, forcing me to turn around at the Legnano exit. With some clever help from the iPhone and my TomTom, I navigated to the Piazza Monumento so I could snap a shot of Alberto di Giusssano. Alberto was the 12th century warrior who formed the "Company of Death" that defended the Carroccio of the League at the Battle of Legnano. This statue in the center of Legnano is the symbol of the city, the Northern League political party and, more importantly, of Legnano bicycles!

Best viewed while listening to Verdi's 'La Battaglia di Legnano'.

New Year, New Bike Project

2009 had me all interested in old Italian bikes. Particularly, those with Campy's Cambio Corsa.

Imagine climbing a mountain pass with only four or five gears. To change those gears, you have to reach back to the seat stay, open the long q.r. on the rear hub, backpedal while moving another lever which moves the chain, then closing the q.r. only to then resume pedaling! Gino Bartali was the master of the "due leve" and won the 1948 Tour aboard a Legnano with said shifter.

So after much research and bothering of some Italian friends, I've found a Legnano and the matching parts! It seems to be from the late 40's or early 50's (the Cambio Corsa, crude as it was, was used for over 20 years!). There's still lots of work to be done, but hopefully, persistence will pay off and see me toe the start line at the 2010 l'Eroica aboard this beauty.

The frame is in great shape. Color was removed, since the last owner decided it better to slap on a coat of grey. The true Legnano color is a type of olive green lacquer. Purists say that there are few who still know the process to replicate it. I'll come as close as possible.

The rear axle has teeth which allows the rear wheel to move as you shift, taking up the slack of the chain!

Le due leve.

Here's the proof (and also the missing piece). The Legnano headbadge depicts Alberto da Giussano and celebrates the defeat of the German rulers in the 1176 Battle of Legnano.

The rest of the parts are equally sweet. Magistroni crank and bb, Universal brakes, customized Brooks saddle, Ambrosio bars, and original wheels laced to VERY aged Martano rims. I also get a spare set of hubs to lace to wooden rims (riding wheels, the others will be kept for show).

Hopefully, this restoration won't break the bank. I still have to finish the Ciöcc and Atala!