I have had a bicycle under me for the better part of 30 years. It wasn't until some 12-13 years ago that I tossed a leg over my first "real" road bike. At the time I was a diehard mountain biker working in a shop and I ended up doing pro builds and repairs for the local road race team. After A LOT of coercion by said team to go out with them on their weekly Sunday training ride, I finally chatted up the owner about throwing together a road bike on the cheap.

A week later he and the [at the time service manager - now my best friend] grabbed a 54cm Specialized M2 road frame off the wall that was gathering dust (everyone wanted our Lemonds...) and dug out a used (but perfect) 8 speed Chorus grouppo that one of the racers had ditched for Record and started building. The service manager laced up a brand new set of chorus hubs into a sexy new wheelset, then tossed on a used saddle out of our take off bin.

The next morning I came in to work to be met by what I could only describe as a two wheeled Ferrari. I was stunned. I was sold this masterpiece for what I though was a very reasonable price of $675. Little did I know just how fair it was, not to mention the passion it unlocked.

I took the bike home that night and pored over it with my hands and eyes. Even though I worked with it everyday, I never took the time to appreciate the thoughtfully graceful curves and mirror polish of a Campy rear derailleur, or the precise mechanical click of its freehub. From that day forward the bicycle was no longer just a mode of transportation or recreation. It was Art, and engineering, and history, and beautiful.

I started watching the races, Giro, Vuelta, Roubaix, Flanders, and a certain little guy with big ears that could climb like I had never seen. I was hooked. I still mountain bike, but being alone on my road bike on a crisp fall morning climbing a steep hill I have never been up before...damn.

Many years, bikes and miles later I realize how much I really got for that 675. My now seasoned best friend and I got to talking over coffee about old bikes we'd had. I told him I would always have a spot in my heart for that M2. Not two days later I was digging through boxes trying to find my wife's old VCR so I could re-watch my VHS tape of the 98 Giro and stumbled across this picture.



It's not the lightest, or most expensive, or even the sexiest bike I've owned, but it will always be in my mind the fastest. From that first effortless turn of the crank the way it felt like it was self powered...the soft hiss of the unbelievably skinny tires on the road and the egotistical buzz of the campy hub...what I wouldn't give to have this thing back and share all the rides Ive done since.