Regular readers will certainly know about my passion for Italy, and not only for the country, which I’ve been fortunate to visit a few times - it has been WAY too long since my last trip, in 2011. The beautiful land and its history, language, art, food, sports and cars all hold a fascination with me!
I’m certainly proud of my old-French surname, which I learned years ago was derived from the word lormier (lor-mee-AY), a craftsperson of metal hardware for horse riding and harnesses - the Latin word lorum means strap or thong. However, the writer in me finds it interesting that a direct French translation of la rimer is “to rhyme”!
I am also proud of my Scotch-Irish background with the McKennas on my father’s side and Nolands on my mother’s, and I cling passionately to the Welsh lineage that my great-great-great grandfather Hugh Edwards provided when he emigrated from Wales in 1845. However, I feel a bit disappointed that I have absolutely no Italian heritage in my family.
Because of my love of cycling, particularly the Pinarello and Colnago brands, I was inspired to learn a little of the language, and when I homeschooled my younger son Carrick, we both dove into Italian lessons more deeply. One of my favorite travel memories was having a discussion, of sorts, with a local Roman citizen on a tram to a Lazio football match at Stadio Olimpico. Through his broken English and my awkward Italian, I learned how he mistakenly ordered the Cleveland Browns jersey he was wearing. I vividly remember the bewildered look on my mother’s face as this whole conversation was going on!
I friend that I made fairly recently speaks the language fluently, and he has been very encouraging in my attempts to practice. He even sends me issues of Italian cycling magazines, as well as issues of La Gazzetta dello Sport, the famous pink-colored newspaper that is the reason for the hue of the race leader jersey in the Giro d’Italia. I can get the gist of reading, but when trying to converse, the speaker would have to slow WAY down, and the return words take too long to translate in my head and come out my mouth!
My favorite football (soccer) team is Inter Milan, followed very closely by Fiorentina, which inspired the purple color choice (officially Passion Berry Pearl) of my 2016 Honda Fit. I even adorned the rear quarter windows with decals of the gigli rossi – the red lily symbol of the team.
I love my Fit, as it looks great, handles well and gets good mileage. Most importantly, it is easy for my wife and I to load a couple of bikes in back and go on a cycling adventure. On the business side, I’ve always appreciated how I can deliver a bike to a customer and take along one of my bikes in order to ride somewhere new. That said, I’ve always had to settle for cars that were more on the practical side – either in the form of inexpensive (or free) hand-me-downs or family-friendly four-door sedans or mini-vans.
In a May blog entry I mentioned my growing interest in cars, not only in their history but also how they operate, and I had been considering a long-term goal of purchasing a really cool automobile. I was initially looking to save up for a few years, finding something at a reasonable price, and the car was definitely going to be something fun, not practical at all.
Looking back now over the years, some of the cars I’ve driven seem rather pathetic, but you can’t complain when your main goal as a young adult is just getting back and forth to work. Sue’s grandfather passed on a Plymouth Horizon, a near twin of the one pictured below, which is in its perfect environment – the junkyard! The car did allow us to put a hockey goal in the back and go off to one of the nearby frozen ponds or lakes, but it eventually came to grinding halt one evening, with a spit of molten glass beads out the exhaust, followed by me getting out and dashing away a couple hundred feet from the smoking hulk, just for safety!
The only “special feel” I received from that car was the head liner coming loose and scraping on the top of my skull. I remember some electrical problems immerging in that car, but I’d say it became aesthetically tired before actually breaking down…which it eventually did.
We became a Honda family, owning a couple of Accord sedans, an Odyssey van, a Civic and currently a pair of Fits. Because they all lasted a long time and performed reliably with very minor issues throughout their lives, we remain devoted users of the brand.
When considering what I might want to purchase, I briefly thought of some of the cars my father owned that now are quite collectable. Dad was a big VW fan, and I recall fondly an early Beetle and a neat, dark green ‘71 squareback similar to the one below:
Probably the coolest car he had was a ’69 Chevelle, even if his had a very conservative setup. The car's body and color were just like the one below, but only in my imagination did it have the street-rod tires:
I started dreaming of a 1971 Plymouth Barracuda, a 1968-69 Pontiac GTO or a 1970 Chevy Camaro like the ones I had seen on various restoration shows. However, the prices I was seeing for American “muscle cars” had me quickly putting these machines out of my mind.
Of course, the Ferraris, Porsches and most foreign sports cars were beyond reason, especially my all-time favorite street car, the Alfa Romeo Tipo 33 Stradale (photo below) from the late 1960s. The company made a modern version that looked pretty sweet and was still crazy expensive, but their Alfa 4C seemed like a compromise, if not a totally impossible goal, depending on where the prices went in a few years.
At some point during my casual searches, I saw a couple of references made to a “baby Ferrari”, the Fiat 124 Spider. The photo that came up immediately had me hooked - I loved the lines of the small car, plus the luggage and mesh screens on the headlights (to keep pebbles from cracking the glass) were cool vintage touches!
The spunky Fiat Twin Cam engine was designed by ex-Ferrari engineer Aurelio Lampredi and was used in many models of the company’s cars, in several manufactured by fellow Italian carmakers Lancia and Alfa Romeo, plus in a few made by other international builders. The 124 Spider, however, did not live up to the American standards for reliability and rustproofing. Fiat was subsequently forced out of the U.S. market, which is why Pininfarina took over in 1982.
Despite the fact that there were only 6400 Azzurra (or ‘Spider Europa”, as it was marketed overseas) cars shipped worldwide, it seemed to be underappreciated by collectors. Looking at prices on the internet, I began to think that I would be able to push up my timeframe for purchase. As I would say later, “They only cost about as much as a couple of nice bicycles”, and if I could find a basic 124 in really good shape, my wait would be even shorter!
As much as that silvery blue color appealed to me, and I saw one or two really nice ones out there, I began to think “Pininfarina…shouldn’t this car be red like a Ferrari?” I was also looking exclusively for cars with the beige interior, since it looked classy and would be cooler with the sun beating on it than the black version would!
I came across a Facebook Marketplace listing in Elizabeth, New Jersey, for a 1981 Spider 2000. The 124 had been renamed in 1979 to denote the upgraded 2.0-liter engine and had distinctive double bumps in the hood (shown below), added in the early ‘70s to create room for the dual carburetors.
The car for sale was red with beige interior and had racy pinstripes on the hood and cool orange and yellow stripes along the sides that followed the line of the body and twisted/swapped positions at the dip in the door handle. I found out that the 1981 model was the first year with fuel injection, which not only upped the horsepower, but improved fuel economy and emissions.
Through phone conversations and a visit in early June, after a bicycle delivery in the area, I got to know Chris and Kevin, two friends who grew up together and became business partners. They owned a couple of used car dealerships and auto body shops in Elizabeth and nearby Union, New Jersey. Apparently, Kevin had purchased a property as part of an estate sale, and the Fiat was included on the premises. Their interests and their businesses involved primarily American muscle cars, so they had just cleaned the Fiat and tuned it up for a quick sale.
Unfortunately, because of some recent family emergency, they hadn’t had the time to move the cars around the garage where the Fiat was stored, in order to free it up for a test drive. I explained to them that I hadn’t used stick shift since I was a teenager, so at that moment, probably just looking over the car was a better idea. They also knew I was early in my car search process, so no pressure was on anyone at that point.
There was a brief period of time that I considered the modern Fiat release of the 124 Spider, which was built on the proven and well-respected Mazda Miata platform. The car shared some of the body lines of its 124 predecessor, but its designers really missed the mark by including contemporary, teardrop-shaped headlights, instead of the classic round versions. I think the whole front end look is ruined and makes the car resemble any car on the road these days:
I hadn’t really spoken to Sue at all about any of this car buying idea, as I was really just collecting information, but the Fiat Spider 2000 really stuck with me. The one listed in New Jersey was in very nice cosmetic condition, and I really liked the fact that it was being sold by people whose business was automobiles!
I kept looking around and had a couple test drives (as a passenger), but no cars I saw matched the NJ Fiat, as far as the overall condition, the racy look and the confidence I had in the sellers. Before I more seriously considered making a move on that car, I had to talk to Sue. She has really mellowed since her retirement last fall, but I was still a little surprised at how receptive she was to my idea. She was all ready to accompany me for a drive to Union and to serve as my “test pilot”, since she has had recent experience with her brother’s manual-shift Jeep.
All went well with the test drive, and we had come prepared to pay for the car, so we were heading back to Royersford later that day, with me keeping a rearview mirror eye on an uncomfortable Sue driving the tiny Fiat among the HEAVY truck traffic on Interstate 78. I signaled to her to exit near Clinton, and we took more relaxing country roads across New Jersey and through Bucks County back towards home.
Living up to the 124’s reputation for electrical problems, there were some things to work out before taking the car in for its inspection. The guys at Leading Edge in West Chester did a thorough check of the Fiat and provided me a useful list of things that will have to be attended to in the future. Unfortunately, the brake proportioning valve (balances brake pressure between the front and rear wheels) was leaking and had to be replaced, and this occurred right before we left for vacation.
The Fiat was to be kept safe and dry in their garage until we returned from Canada, so it had been ours a long time before I actually had a chance to drive it! After some much-needed practice shifting, I have consistently been out on the road with my Fiat Spider 2000. I’ve made my rounds to give friends rides, and I even let a couple of the “stick experts” among them take the wheel. They enjoyed the opportunity to drive the car, and I found it useful to watch them in action.
In the past (click HERE), I’ve written extensively on the COVID-induced boom and bust of the global cycling market and how it affected both the tune-up/repair and sales ends of my small business. While the fixing and upgrading of bikes for customers picked up and has never tailed off, the assembly and purchases of vintage racing bicycles, the part of the job that I love, pretty much bottomed out.
Over the past two years, the market has been slowly coming back, and I have been really encouraged by being able to sell handful of bicycles in 2026. In fact, after an extended period of inactivity, I’m finally returning to some of my own projects, most of which happen to be Italian bicycles.
I have builds planned for Battaglin, Basso, Colnago and Bianchi frameset that have been hanging in my rafters for months (well, for a couple of them, it’s been years). I also had custom work on one of my friend Brendan’s bikes put on hold during our vacation, as we were looking for an elusive C-Record rear derailleur.
Turns out that buying a complete Vitus bicycle (equipped with the needed part) via Marketplace was more cost-effective for Brendan than buying just the derailleur on eBay. The bike arrived at my house a few days ago, and I’ll leave you with some photos of his completed 1990 Bianchi Proto Max:










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