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
@frank
No offence taken. I suspected a degree of deliberate provocation. However I'm sure I can provoke genuine outrage after you've seen the size of my EPMS! On another note relevant to various posts above; this is the frame I'm so glad I didn't get rid of when I 'upgraded'. But that's another, rather long story and I'm off to bed. See you in the morning.
@razmaspaz
Ah ha. Good to know. There are clearly subtle nuances on the Path of the Velominatus.
@jaja
Whoa, that's like elephantiasis of the EPMS...
@ frank: that is just right!
I have built a few of my own wheels, and true my pre bought stuff regularly.
on the soldering, everyone says don't (scaler et. al.) and its true, the solder stiffens the wheel. But, consider, it will also maintain trueness better for the pave, and that is a reason the hardmen would do this, not to mention when they shoot their fuckin guns, they go straight down the road like they've been shot.
I would use some lite blue spoke prep, it will give the brass a bite. Now, I know there will be dissention within the ranks of Cognoscenti, but the journeyman wheelbuilder that personally taught me in 1998 how to, said spoke prep and that is goood for me. I have never had prob, and only apply an oil on truing days.
the double butted spokes are a must, 15/16g are the strongest and dt swiss are phenomenal and yes, brass is the only way to go.
Since your pimpin Ambrosio's gold stars, FMB tyres, and all, I just assumed you must do it all Belgian style and would go w/the solder. Look at the PRO's on the Roubaix, many of them have soldered. Call competitivecyclists, they offer a set of solder, or read their review about them, they said they killer.
But, given the bikes we have today, carbon and all, the 'not to solder' is probably the smartest so they do soak up the pave', given the week of riding your going to be hammering.
whats the growth coming off that saddle???
Oddly enough, I built a rear wheel yesterday - ambrosio excellent, ultegra hub (which is a lot nicer than I thought it would be, and a little lighter than the several-year old dura-ace it's replacing) 36h 3x - I don't think there's ever an excuse for anything else on a box-section road-bike wheel, is there? I've built a radial front and wish I hadn't, 3x not only looks better to my eye but is less dependent on the correct tension to build a good wheel, it's got to be tight on radial for it not to roll like a bag of shit. I don't have a wheeljig or a tensiometer or nuthin', I turn my bike upside down on the dining table and use my thumb and musician's sense, although you'd worry if you heard me play the guitar. The brandt book is good and probably required reading at some point but most of it (from recollection - it's been 20+ years...)is theoretical discussion of the physics of bike wheels and spoking patterns for tandems...
My understanding of double-butted spokes vs plain gauge is that not only do double-butted spokes flex more, but the added elasticity in the middle of the spoke helps them absorb and deal with spoke twist during the building process. I used straight gauge spokes for this build - I figured on two things - first, it's 36h anyway so the difference in the amount of flex from the spoke type vs the right tension (even rather than too tight) would be minimal, and 2nd, plenty of oil on the nipple during the build would eliminate any twist.
Something that I used to do when I built wheels for other people was to, after finishing truing the wheel, grasp the rim at various points about it and apply a moderate twist to it. The guy who taught me said that this mimicked the first couple of hundred k and showed you where the rim wanted to sit with how you'd trued it - you trued that, the theory went, and you were close enough. If it's a wheel for myself I don't bother, I just get it close enough, do a couple of rides, and then get anal...
[album: http://filemanager.dutchmonkey.com/photoalbums.php?currdir=velominati.com/wp-content/uploads/readers/Simon/2011.12.07.23.55.05/|width=595|height=512]
^ I feel duty bound to point out that it's an effect of the angle the photo was taken from and the lean of the wheel - my levers aren't really that high on the bars...that would be wrong...
@Oli
Sage advice. Also keep in mind that difference in setback will make differences in leg extension as well. Its a massive hass and depending on how picky you are comes down to what @Nate says.
Ultimately, getting your position right between bikes is very hard and takes lot of attention. In the end, what "feels" the same is more important than what "measures" the same. This, by the way, is why I got the Solist. I can now switch between Bike #1 and Bike #3 with (almost) no issue. Same saddle, bars, stem tape, crank length, pedals between bikes. Still, now I'm perplected by how different my wrists are angled when switching between the Record on #1 and STI on #3.
Ah well, the show must go on. Pros travel with their saddle and seatpost and leave bikes in various locations. This makes me feel better.
@frank
I bet you and those attending the Keepers Tour will dream of this
Dont know anything about this picture except that your rims are in it.
@Simon
I could look at that first photo all day (well apart from the hideous bricks), that is simply the definition of what a road bike should look like.