dbrk
09-30-2004, 04:47 AM
I remember seeing Legnanos in the early 1970s as a kid in Jersey when I worked as a shop rat on the Shore during the summer and raced with my elder brother who was a mechanic. We started out on Gitane, then the American house brand of the Fraysse's called Paris Sport (this was right around the corner from my house in northern Jersey), Peugeot, Colnago, the excellent Swiss-made Mondia, it was the "bike boom" and I even saw my first decked out Rene Herse in the parking lot of this shop (it got run over by a car, that being the first time I saw a grown man cry). The shop was filled with great bikes and more came through the door. Legnano were ancients, that much I knew, and I associated them with Bianchi, Gios, and Frejus, that is, the rides of the great Italian champions. (A fine synopsis of this history is found on Dale Brown's wonderful classicrendezvous.com, of course.) You couldn't miss a Legnano because they came in a signature color. Well, actually many shades of the same signature color much like Bianchis came in "celeste" which seemed to be a different "sky" blue-green every year. Legnanos were usually this---you will forgive me---"goober" green with burgandy/reddish decals, sometimes as dark as olive or gold-like but the ones I remember were definitely green. Coppi had ridden a Legnano, that was good enough for me.
When Dario Pegoretti made his first batch of Luiginos with old bits and new tubes I immediately jumped on one. This was an homage to his own teacher Luigi Milano, I believe, hence the name, and then when I saw the subsequent twin-plated fork crown and round "track" blade examples, I knew I wanted a custom. Dario answered graciously my inquiries and Brendan Quirk of Competitive Cyclist listened patiently as I went through a slew of details that I hoped to see. I came upon the Legnano paint scheme notion after visiting with Mike Barry (bikespecialties.com) who knows more about bicycles than all living humans combined and seeing his spectacular Legnano hanging in the rafters in Toronto. Dario was not only gracious and interested, he went to Bianchi (who had bought up the remainder of Legnano in the 1980s, I think) to look at colors and examples. Last week my custom Pegoretti Luigino arrived (along with Emma of Big Legs) and it was clear that Dario had poured Italian passion all over this bike, details that I hadn't considered, one-off lugs, chrome, and then a decal scheme that was unambiguously the result of studied examples. This is a bike that in execution surpasses any Legnano of course and one that shows the great craft that honors Luigi Milano but after all this is a work of Pegoretti at his best. I love the innovation and design of contemporary Pegorettis, they are anything but another TIG-welded bike, but this lugged example shows us that Dario like few others has the gift. Honestly, we associate (and should) the best lugged steel craft with American builders now (this being the best and worst of times, of course) and I am sure there are still builders in Italy and elsewhere (especially so in Japan) who care about lugged steel craft. Dario offers a rare, gifted example of this art. I feel really lucky to have one.
Yesterday I got in nearly four hours on the Luigino on what was a crisp fall day. I rode with my goodpal Jim who rides a Palosanto (his son is a fine young racer who rides a CCKMP) and we took in the best of the Finger Lakes: empty county roads, short steep climbs, a few long, unending climbs, turning descents, straight, long descents, and plenty of chances to stress, hammer, sit up, go into the drops, ride for a mile with no hands, and do everything a boy could love about a bicycle. I had given Dario only two measurements: seat tube and top tube, 60 x 58.5. Dario had written me some months ago saying that he'd come across a few sets of Excell tubing from France, which he described as the best stuff he'd ever worked and which he'd used on the bikes of several champions (whose names need not be reiterated in the time-honored tradition). The bike's tubing is no secret because it has the Excell decals on the seat tube; the lugs are asymetrical and one-off; the round blades of the fork were a cause for some conversation before I got in the ride because several renowned builder/designers, including the brilliantly talented Kirk Pacenti, had commented.
We took a meandering route that also gave us glimpses of fox, ring-necked pheasant, lots of raptors perched on the electrical lines, and little traffic. I pushed the bike as hard as my meager self can manage. The verdict is easy to predict because that's what happens when a master puts himself to the task: this is as brilliant a ride as it is an example of the builder's craft. The bike feels _alive_. I built it with a mix of old and new because it isn't a "retro" bike but rather traditional. The parts are a mix: Campagnolo Record Ergo 9 speed (I didn't have a set of silver Chorus, so this is the only carbon bit, but somehow I am okay with that...), Daytona rear derailleur, Chorus front deraileur, brakeset, and titanium post; Regal Girardi saddle withe the copper rails; Nitto Noodle handlebar (courtesy of Rivendell, of course) and a 12cm Nitto Pearl stem. The "gem" of the parts kit is the TA Cyclotouriste (aka Pro vis5) crankset outfitted with the etoille attachment to bring the arms out enough to work with a modern front derailleur. This innovative solution to using the venerable crank was Mike Barry's mechanical genius and genius it is because you can use any size chainrings. I chose 46/36. Wheels are Mavic Open Pros 32h laced two-cross front/three rear to Mavic 571 hubs, the last hubs of the "old" SSc group (that came in the brown boxes). Finishing the bars with the stitched black with white trim Stella Azzurra tape gives the bike both a modern and oldschool look. The idea was not to go retro but to use some of the best ideas of every era of my own cycling lifetime.
Solid as rock but quick, lively, and willing, that's the Pegoretti trademark ride and it is in full evidence here. I love decending deep and fast in the drops and then riding without hands, and both of these things tell right away what a bike is like. This one is just fantastic. You feel safe and ecstatically free to do as you please, both at the same time. The bike forgives and holds the line just as it responds to input and takes the line you set. I did tight, slow "parking lot circles" without hands, no problem, and put the bike to the hammer on the climbs out of the saddle without the slightest unhappy bb flex or frt der rub. This is a bike that makes you happy, that either warms you to how it feels or allows you to ignore it and go riding without a care. I would compare most directly to my RichardSachs. The Sachs too is lively, solid, clear-minded but also very willing to answer your input. The Luigino, like the Sachs, either rides itself or lets you do the riding, sort of the perfect combination. The fork is gentle, not too stiff or rough on the roads as it might be with round blades; the blades look identical (but aren't) to the round-blades on my Goodrich-custom Rivendell. This Pegoretti belongs in that league, with the very best bikes I have ridden from the most gifted lugged steel builders: Sachs, Goodrich, Starck, Barry, and the French masters.
I will post pictures this weekend along with a few I have of old Legnanos, just to give a sense of the "look".
As usual too long but BD and I will go drink beers and I'll come back to report in less prosaic terms on another occasion.
dbrk
When Dario Pegoretti made his first batch of Luiginos with old bits and new tubes I immediately jumped on one. This was an homage to his own teacher Luigi Milano, I believe, hence the name, and then when I saw the subsequent twin-plated fork crown and round "track" blade examples, I knew I wanted a custom. Dario answered graciously my inquiries and Brendan Quirk of Competitive Cyclist listened patiently as I went through a slew of details that I hoped to see. I came upon the Legnano paint scheme notion after visiting with Mike Barry (bikespecialties.com) who knows more about bicycles than all living humans combined and seeing his spectacular Legnano hanging in the rafters in Toronto. Dario was not only gracious and interested, he went to Bianchi (who had bought up the remainder of Legnano in the 1980s, I think) to look at colors and examples. Last week my custom Pegoretti Luigino arrived (along with Emma of Big Legs) and it was clear that Dario had poured Italian passion all over this bike, details that I hadn't considered, one-off lugs, chrome, and then a decal scheme that was unambiguously the result of studied examples. This is a bike that in execution surpasses any Legnano of course and one that shows the great craft that honors Luigi Milano but after all this is a work of Pegoretti at his best. I love the innovation and design of contemporary Pegorettis, they are anything but another TIG-welded bike, but this lugged example shows us that Dario like few others has the gift. Honestly, we associate (and should) the best lugged steel craft with American builders now (this being the best and worst of times, of course) and I am sure there are still builders in Italy and elsewhere (especially so in Japan) who care about lugged steel craft. Dario offers a rare, gifted example of this art. I feel really lucky to have one.
Yesterday I got in nearly four hours on the Luigino on what was a crisp fall day. I rode with my goodpal Jim who rides a Palosanto (his son is a fine young racer who rides a CCKMP) and we took in the best of the Finger Lakes: empty county roads, short steep climbs, a few long, unending climbs, turning descents, straight, long descents, and plenty of chances to stress, hammer, sit up, go into the drops, ride for a mile with no hands, and do everything a boy could love about a bicycle. I had given Dario only two measurements: seat tube and top tube, 60 x 58.5. Dario had written me some months ago saying that he'd come across a few sets of Excell tubing from France, which he described as the best stuff he'd ever worked and which he'd used on the bikes of several champions (whose names need not be reiterated in the time-honored tradition). The bike's tubing is no secret because it has the Excell decals on the seat tube; the lugs are asymetrical and one-off; the round blades of the fork were a cause for some conversation before I got in the ride because several renowned builder/designers, including the brilliantly talented Kirk Pacenti, had commented.
We took a meandering route that also gave us glimpses of fox, ring-necked pheasant, lots of raptors perched on the electrical lines, and little traffic. I pushed the bike as hard as my meager self can manage. The verdict is easy to predict because that's what happens when a master puts himself to the task: this is as brilliant a ride as it is an example of the builder's craft. The bike feels _alive_. I built it with a mix of old and new because it isn't a "retro" bike but rather traditional. The parts are a mix: Campagnolo Record Ergo 9 speed (I didn't have a set of silver Chorus, so this is the only carbon bit, but somehow I am okay with that...), Daytona rear derailleur, Chorus front deraileur, brakeset, and titanium post; Regal Girardi saddle withe the copper rails; Nitto Noodle handlebar (courtesy of Rivendell, of course) and a 12cm Nitto Pearl stem. The "gem" of the parts kit is the TA Cyclotouriste (aka Pro vis5) crankset outfitted with the etoille attachment to bring the arms out enough to work with a modern front derailleur. This innovative solution to using the venerable crank was Mike Barry's mechanical genius and genius it is because you can use any size chainrings. I chose 46/36. Wheels are Mavic Open Pros 32h laced two-cross front/three rear to Mavic 571 hubs, the last hubs of the "old" SSc group (that came in the brown boxes). Finishing the bars with the stitched black with white trim Stella Azzurra tape gives the bike both a modern and oldschool look. The idea was not to go retro but to use some of the best ideas of every era of my own cycling lifetime.
Solid as rock but quick, lively, and willing, that's the Pegoretti trademark ride and it is in full evidence here. I love decending deep and fast in the drops and then riding without hands, and both of these things tell right away what a bike is like. This one is just fantastic. You feel safe and ecstatically free to do as you please, both at the same time. The bike forgives and holds the line just as it responds to input and takes the line you set. I did tight, slow "parking lot circles" without hands, no problem, and put the bike to the hammer on the climbs out of the saddle without the slightest unhappy bb flex or frt der rub. This is a bike that makes you happy, that either warms you to how it feels or allows you to ignore it and go riding without a care. I would compare most directly to my RichardSachs. The Sachs too is lively, solid, clear-minded but also very willing to answer your input. The Luigino, like the Sachs, either rides itself or lets you do the riding, sort of the perfect combination. The fork is gentle, not too stiff or rough on the roads as it might be with round blades; the blades look identical (but aren't) to the round-blades on my Goodrich-custom Rivendell. This Pegoretti belongs in that league, with the very best bikes I have ridden from the most gifted lugged steel builders: Sachs, Goodrich, Starck, Barry, and the French masters.
I will post pictures this weekend along with a few I have of old Legnanos, just to give a sense of the "look".
As usual too long but BD and I will go drink beers and I'll come back to report in less prosaic terms on another occasion.
dbrk