Initially I rubbed some fine steel wool over the really bad areas to knock off the oxidation, then used Mothers brand aluminum polish. The process involved the use of a Power Cone (photo left), made by the same company, with an electric drill. Each time I started a new side on the individual tubes, I would spread the polish paste on the cone - it reminded me of icing a cake, but nowhere near as appetizing!
The creamy coating would turn a really dark gray, then I would wipe down the area briskly with a rag. The cone worked effectively to get into all the awkward tubing joints, which, except for the bottom bracket area (moisture probably sat there), turned out more mirror-like when I was finished.
Below is a before-and-after of the top tube, which still needs some help, followed by a shot of the down tube, which looked pretty spectacular.
My brother-in-law works on motorcycles and has a bit more experience with getting the shine back on aluminum parts, so I am going to pick his brain a bit. I know he has a nice polishing wheel, which sure beats the drill method I had been trying!
Similar to the practices of Henry Ford before him, Aldo Gios would build his customers a bike in any color they wanted – as long as it was blue. The color is as distinctive to the company as celeste is to Bianchi. However, unlike Bianchi, the reason for Gios’ standard paint is generally agreed upon.
During the 1970s Gios was to supply the
Brooklyn Racing Team (actually sponsored by an Italian chewing gum maker) with bicycles
customized to match the same shade of blue as their jerseys. The distinctive garments
had an American flag look with red and white vertical stripes around the
midsection and royal blue around the top of the chest, back and shoulders. The
continued use of the color represents a high mark of craftsmanship and
excellence, particularly honoring the successes of the great Roger de Vlaeminck
aboard Gios bicycles during that time period.
The French company Look revolutionized
cycling in the 1980s with its introduction of clipless pedals and carbon fiber
frames, and having Bernard Hinault and Greg Lemond show off their products
didn’t hurt. Up to that point, owner Jean Beyl’s business, named after the U.S.
war-era photo magazine, was best known for ski bindings. Beyl realized that a
version of the binding could be transferred to cycling, and the metal toe-clip
and straps were soon to become a thing of the past – except for the occasional
L’eroica bike ride!
Faliero Masi was known as “The Tailor”
because of his reputation for building bicycles that fit their owner as well as
any bespoke suit. Many top pros sought out the legendary Italian builder in his
workshop below the Vigorelli velodrome in Milan, using his expertise for
bicycles that were often later badged up as a team bike of another manufacture.
His brand got the exposure it deserved in
the movie Breaking Away, perhaps the
most successful cycling movie ever made. For main character and Italo-phile Dave
Stohler, only one bike would do – a bright red Masi Gran Criterium!
Unknown to his competitors, Antonin Magne
won the 1934 Tour de France using revolutionary aluminum rims made by Mavic.
Because such rims were illegal at the time, the company had painted a faux-wood finish onto the aluminum to have the
rims resemble what the rest of the peloton was using.
Today, the company has a ubiquitous presence
in racing, as its yellow and black elliptical logo can be seen on the wheels of
top pros, as well as on the hood and sides of the neutral support vehicles.
Mavic, an acronym for Manufacture d’Articles Velocipediques Idoux et Chanel
(Charles Idoux and Lucien Chanel were the founders), not only developed the
first aluminum rim (in 1934) and first disc wheel (1973), their designs also
included the innovative Zap Mavic electronic gear shifter in 1994.
Giovanni Pinarello was the eighth of twelve
brothers, and was a successful amateur cyclist. His pro career had few
highlights – perhaps one of the more unfortunate memories was the awarding of
the 1951 maglia nero, or black
jersey, which was a short-lived award for the last-place finisher of the Giro
d’Italia.
The following season, his Bottecchia team
bosses offered him 100,000 lire to surrender his Giro spot to a young up-comer.
Giovanni, who had been learning to build bicycles alongside his brother Carlo,
wisely took the money to set up his own shop, stocked with his bikes and
those of other builders. These were the baby steps for the legendary Pinarello company
that has supplied bicycles to more Tour de France winners than any other
manufacturer.
There was a time in British households that
the word Raleigh meant bicycle, as much as Hoover meant vacuum or Biro meant
pen. Such a situation would seem the ultimate achievement for a manufacturer,
but such a circumstance didn’t necessarily serve Raleigh well, especially it
the company’s efforts to sell top-end road bikes.
With a line of children’s models and adult
bikes noted for their affordability and reliability, Raleigh had a very
family-oriented image. Although during the ‘70s and early ‘80s the company
supplied bikes to the immensely successful TI-Raleigh team, other than a few
individuals, corporate executives never seemed all that interested in the team
they sponsored.
In fact, when team leader Joop Zoetemelk won
the Tour in 1980, becoming the first rider to win on a British bicycle, it was
a landmark achievement that few noticed. Raleigh seemed to decide that the
British public could not/would not understand the Tour de France, and at the
time, they were probably right. Wow, how things have changed with Mark
Cavendish, Bradley Wiggins and Team Sky causing a U.K. cycling sensation!
One more "builder" installment to come...
No comments :
Post a Comment