icyclist 

I'm always lusting after super-bikes I can't afford, and I have gone the upgrade route with bike parts for the bikes I do have. More is always better, right?

About a year ago, on my carbon fiber Specialized Roubaix, I pedaled over to a little shop, Sound Cycles, near my home in Los Angeles. Sound Cycles is an unusual business, because the owner not only uses the space as a bike shop; he also deals in the purchase and sale of vintage record album covers. Track and road bike frames and wheels and vintage jerseys hang from the ceiling, while record sleeves line the shelves in the little shop.

That day I noticed an old, black, aluminum Specialized Allez – exact vintage unknown - hanging forlornly off a hook, in well-preserved, if not perfect condition. Wes, the owner of the shop, noticed my interest, and when I told him I loved the look of the downtube shifters, which reminded me of a Peugeot PX10LE I'd had long ago, he suggested I should buy the frame.

"It will make a nice back-up bike," he said, ever the clever salesman. "Put some basic parts on and it'll be fine."



After a few weeks of thinking it over – I already had a backup road bike, not to mention a fixie, a mountain bike and a mountain bike tandem - I put down a deposit. I had plenty of old parts, sitting around in boxes in my garage that I'd pulled off of other bikes. Thinking about the old bike conjured up suitably nostalgic memories of bikes and rides long past, enough memories to turn the Allez into my own version of "Rosebud."

Admittedly, I could have put the bike together myself. Rather than me doing all the work, Wes offered to put the bike together for me at a good price and I agreed.



I began bringing the parts to Wes. There was some good stuff: a Toupe saddle, and an Ultegra wheel set, which, along with the downtube shifting, would help keep the weight of the bike down. I also had pedals, derailleurs, bar tape, plus 50+ year-old brake levers and brakes (NOS, French - Beborex – which I've inexplicably had for decades). A friend who heard about the project gave me some old handlebars. I decided to let Wes choose whatever I didn't have, with the main stipulation that he keep it on the less expensive side.



I assumed I'd be riding the old Allez home from Wes' shop in a few days. Each time I walked into Wes' shop, though, he'd tell me he hadn't started putting the bike together. Then I'd reply: "No hurry, Wes. I'm not flush with coin, right now."



These casual conversations repeated themselves for a long time. Summer passed inexorably into autumn, autumn put on a coat of color and turned into winter, and winter melted away into spring. Of course, in Los Angeles, seasons of the year are more a state of mind than physical manifestations, and so I just kept riding my bikes. On occasional visits to the shop, I attempted to glean if Wes had indeed made some progress.



It looked like, for example, the old Allez now sported basic carbon forks. Then again, it had been so long since I put down that deposit that I couldn't remember if the frame hanging on the ceiling already had forks. Did the bike have a stem, too? Because at some point I discovered there was a stem sticking out the front end of the Allez.

Eventually, I gave Wes another deposit. It didn't particularly speed up the project. And I still needed a few parts. We talked about the cassette – probably something with a wide range, although I wasn't planning on taking the bike up any of the steep climbs in Los Angeles that I like so much. I wanted 52/39 up front, too, and we agreed a basic set of cranks – Veultas – would be be in keeping with the scope of the project.



One day, a few weeks ago, with another summer on the wane, I pedaled over to the shop. Mon Dieu! Sitting against a wall, the Allez was almost finished! Wes promised to contact me soon. He did, with news that an emergency bathroom remodel at his home had pulled him away from his shop.

Another week went by, summer and summer light fading away. Then came another message: the bike was ready. The price was right – too right, perhaps Wes felt guilty about the long delay.



With the bike in hand, if not under my ass yet, I was pretty pleased with my "new" bike. I was disappointed that the brakes weren't the Beborox - the design was too old to work with the Allez, Wes explained. The cassette turned out to be a 9-speed, 12-25. The downtube shifters may be the highest-end pieces of equipment on the bike: Dura-Ace.

Considering the frame is probably pushing 20 years in age (that's 150 human years), the total weight of the bike, with pedals, and loaded down with a lot of reasonably sturdy (i.e. heavy) parts, seemed very reasonable: 20.00 pounds.



Unlike my Specialized Roubaix's tall headtube, the Allez' was quite short, and the stem was slammed. Climbing onto the bike for the first time, I put a lot more weight onto the bars than I do with my Roubaix. When I pushed off, that weight shoved the front wheel to the left. It was as if the bike wanted to throw me to the ground.



Once underway, remembered why I like my Roubaix: its ride is very plush. The ride on the Allez felt much like my aluminum fixie's: harsh, only more so; this was a bucking bronco to the Roubaix's gentle nag. The saddle to bar drop was significant, too. And the downtube friction shifters required a modicum of fineness that I didn't have.

Although I had told myself I wouldn't take the bike up any steep inclines, I headed over to the nearby Baldwin Hills State Park. The grade reaches, in places, 13%. It was necessary to make that ride, though, because I wanted to break the Allez, just like a cowboy would break a wild horse. I had to prove to the Allez who the boss was.

The major issue: the 39/25 gearing, While doable, it wasn't easy; it taxed my endurance, if not my strength, over what was a very short climb. Which is why, I suppose, I had to repeat the climb two more times. There were no spots before my eyes, I didn't feel like puking – much. By the time I rode home, the harsh feeling beneath me was gone, and taking my hands off the bars to use the shift levers didn't feel like an outrageous stunt.

The Allez was so much fun to ride that I've put about 90 miles on it in three days. That's why it's going to be difficult to put it out to pasture in the garage and climb back on my Roubaix. Because more is better, right?

rjones28 

Nice.

theREEDeffect

I enjoyed the story and the photography. Thanks for posting.

cleon

Great tale!

Gluteus

Very cool story.
And great pictures as you usually post.

todayilearned

I like the way you write. Nice read.

MDfive21

well written, thank you.

GDA

Cool story and sounds like the whole is much greater than just the sum of some individual parts.

Juan Foote

Well put together post. Loved the pics.

eippo1

Great story and pics. Will we get a part II once you get some more miles on it?

DropDeadFred

...wait....no Di2?

EspressoExpress

I really emjoyed the read. Well written and nice pictures. Thanks for sharing your little story with all of us!

tuxbailey

+1

FeedFred

+2