There was a time when bicycles were lovingly handmade by artisans who themselves loved the sport more than those for whom they built the machines. Lugs were filed to become Luggs; chain and seat stays were beautifully chromed for durability despite the grams it added to the frame’s final weight; spokes were chosen for their purpose and laced to hubs and rims in a pattern that suited the specific purpose the wheel was intended to serve. Throughout the process – from building the frame to manufacturing of the components – extra care was taken to make every element of the bicycle beautiful; these bicycles, when you are in their presence, radiate La Vie Velominatus.
As was customary at the time, components would be pantographed and frames repainted and rebranded, leaving behind little evidence of their origin. But hidden in the components and frames were symbols that the manufacturers stamped into their wares to preserve their identity; Colnago their Fiore, Cinelli their C, and Campa their Shield. These symbols have come to hold great meaning within the sport and we of a certain ilk scour the photos of our heroes’ bikes for evidence of their existence.
For a variety of reasons including cost, proprietary tube-shapes, and repeatability of production, these practices have largely died away in mainstream bicycle manufacturing; in fact, nearly every element in the art of bicycle building that requires attention and skill is slowing being eliminated from the craft. Ahead-set stems have replaced the need for a carefully adjusted headset and stem, sealed-bearing bottom brackets and hubs have eliminated the subtle touch required to hold a race in place with one hand while tightening the assembly with the other. By and large, the machines and riders are stronger than the terrain they race over, leaving little practical need for the attention to detail and customization that once came as a matter of course.
There is, however, one magical week of racing where the terrain is still stronger than the riders: the cobbled classics of de Ronde van Vlaanderen and Paris-Roubaix. This is the one week during which the Pros still require highly customized machines and we, as fans, can scour the photos of our heroes’ kit, looking for the symbols tucked away in the components to discern their origins. One such symbol is the brass badge affixed to the valve-hole on Ambrosio rims.
These rims are chosen by the Specialists for their strength on the stones regardless of what wheel sponsorship obligations might exist within the team. Their mystique is further deepened for those of us living in the States because they aren’t available here. It follows, then, that the Golden Ticket, as I call it, is something I’ve coveted for as long as I can remember (which, admittedly, isn’t very long and, upsettingly, keeps getting less long) but have never had a good enough reason to justify procuring from Europe. But Keepers Tour, Cobbled Classics 2012 provided the perfect justification to go about finding a set and I wasted no time in doing so. Upon arrival, the rims spent the better part of two weeks sitting in my living room or next to my bed, patiently waiting for me to pick them up and rub my thumb over the badge, just to reassure myself they were still there.
Not long after the rims arrived, I excitedly loaded a picture of Boonen in the 2010 Ronde and turned the laptop to show my VMH.
Frank: Hey, what do you see.
VMH: Boonen. Goddamn, he’s a stud. Don’t let me too close to him; I can’t be responsible for my actions.
Frank: What about his wheels.
VMH: What?
Frank: Don’t you see? He’s got my rims.
VMH: You can’t possibly know that.
Frank: Openly shows his exasperation by groaning audibly and rolling his eyes. Yes, I do. Check it. You can see the Golden Ticket on his back wheel. Its obvious as shit. What’s wrong with you?
VMH: Sighs, pours another glass of wine. Exits stage left. Hopefully not for good.
*Coincidentally, on the same day that this article was being written, Inrng published a similar (better) article on a related subject of hand-built wheels. Well worth the read: The Dying Art of Wheelbuilding
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View Comments
@Chris
This is why I only mount my tubbies to videos of Paris-Roubaix. The vintage doesn't matter, but the cobbles do.
@Buck Rogers
Word. I feel the same way. So compliant yet direct. Cornering? Fuggedaboudid - same traction at 45 degrees as at 90. Climbing? More direct road feel. All around, so subtle but significant. Loves me my tubbies.
Argh. I know. I know, I know I know... I love them, but they are just so damned annoying that I can't give up clinchers. I have a set of Mavic GP4s with Campagnolo Record hubs on my Pinarello Treviso and nothing feels better, but I just can not stand mounting those things.
@frank
Yeah totally Merckxed on them myself. I feel like I've gone from being competent but sometimes tentative cornering on descents, usually out of concern for gravel in the road, to being on rails. The tubs grip with confident style, and the Golden Tickets have a terrific bomber feeling of rolling over anything -- almost like mountain bike wheels -- if the corner is rough.
No tubs yet for me, but one thing I've noticed in many tubs discussions on the interwebs is that a person goes to tubs and feels way better in cornering but is usually also switching to a tubs low profile rim and away from their Great Wall of China aero carbon rim.
My question to the Velominati tubbers - when you are talking about a huge difference in handling and road feel, is everything else similar?
@itburns
For me, it's fairly apples to apples as my clincher wheels are HED Bastogne, the whole point of which is to make an alloy clincher wheelset perform more like tubulars.
@Buck Rogers, @frank
I'm sure that they're going to be awesome when I get them out on the road (the five am ride did not happen for reasons that can only be put down to a general lack of V) but there's no placebo effect going on on the rollers. There's nowhere to hide on the 2 x 20 and without a massive difference in rolling resistance I wouldn't have had the legs left to be shifting through the smaller cogs in the last five minutes of the second effort. I was doing 42kph with 5 minutes to go, minimum 45kph from there to 2 minutes out then 50kph to the one minute mark and 54kph to the finish. On the clinchers, I'd be struggling to hold 42kph for at least the last 6 minutes.
Rather than setting off at 50 x 16 for both sets, next time I'll start at 50 x 15 which gives me an extra 3kph, not much but I suspect that 50 x 14 is not far away given a good solid block of training.
I know these numbers don't mean anything away from my rollers but 3kph is about a 6% improvement.
@Calmante
You can feel appeased in mounting a set of the new Michelin PRO 4s. I can post an image soon of the 2012 Open Pro Black vision -- wheelset !!
Added my blood-pipe helmet icon to feel better here.
First road ride on the Nemesis/Dura-Ace/Pave combo this morning. 40km session with my Sensei, taking turns pulling on an out an back course with a strong head wind on the way back. Felt so much more connected with the road, great cornering, braking (the braking surface is brutal compared to the rims that cam with my bike) and general rolling along, feels effortless - well in comparison, I still felt like I was going to vomit and black out.
Can't wait to race on them tomorrow!
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