I was a broke college student often some of my gear was lacking. I had the cheapest pedals for instance though a really nice set of wheels. There were weekly training rides around the parameter road of the college campus. I knew a lot of the riders, none of which were students at the school and I never saw any of these guys off their bike's in fact. There was a strong rider named Charles, the only African American, on a big city team, and a real character. ( He always called me Johnson for some reason ) One day he rode up along side me and said " Here you go Johnson" and handed me a pair of Campagnolo pedals saying, "I can't stand listening to your pedals squeak!"