Before I get back into the Treviso saga,
I’ll let you know that I am ever so close to completing the Colnago build-up.
Last week I finally found a Campagnolo Super Record seat post at a reasonable
price. I polished it a bit before installing it and the Selle San Marco Rolls
saddle I’ve had sitting on a shelf for what seems like an eternity.
My progress picture above now includes those
parts and the front brake calipers. I also assembled the complete drive train,
including the chain and cable hookups to the downtube shift levers. All I need are those darn brake lever hoods;
I said to Sue, “Well, you can ride it, but I’d probably stick to going up hills
since you can’t stop!”
I was also able to scrape the entire failed
paint job off of the Pinarello Prince and return the frame close to the
condition in which it had started. It took a good deal of work with a dull
X-Acto blade and fine sandpaper to smooth everything back out. I also used an
old kitchen scrub pad to remove the over-sprayed areas. I was very glad that
the Pinarello factory used a durable clear coat!
The airbrush artist I met seemed very
capable and showed me several samples of his work, including some NHL-quality
goalie masks. Because he seemed sympathetic to my plight and expressed a real
grasp of what I wanted to do, I feel confident the painting will turn out
better this time around.
Although I couldn’t be sure how many of the
nicks in the Treviso’s paint were there before this +30-year-old bike was (very
poorly) shipped, I was more concerned about the spokes bent around the crankset
and the rear derailleur that was a bit twisted out of alignment. The seller had
described the bike as in very, very good condition, but it was really far from
that state, other than having been carefully cleaned. I noticed immediately a
small dent in the top tube near the head tube and later found another on the
underside. Both tubular tires were deformed and on the edge of dry rot.
The listing had also stated that this bike
was original, not restored, but upon closer examination, I had my doubts. The
paint was a dull, flat yellow and rather thick around the lugs – not at all the
quality one would expect from a factory finish. There was no clear coat on the
frame, and the decals were the die-cut vinyl variety found on more modern
bicycles. Looking back at the photos included with the listing, I laughed at
how the paint looked so much better in the eBay photos and how each shot was
strategically taken to avoid certain areas of the frame. I was pretty sure that
this was a repaint job, and a bad one at that!
Now that I was discovering inaccuracies in
the description, I started to do a little research on this bicycle. I was able
to find some old Pinarello catalogs that were scanned and posted online, and
the closest I could find, based on having fairly similar components, was the
1982 Treviso. Unfortunately I couldn’t be sure, as it became obvious that many
parts were not original, such as the more modern Campagnolo Record headset. I also
noted that the fork, which had a sloping crown instead of the standard flat
version with a Pinarello logo stamp, was probably a replacement as well.
Opinions from folks who know much more than
I do about Pinarellos led me to believe that the bike may not even be a Treviso.
The seller may have mistakenly read the stamp beneath the bottom bracket and
assumed “Pinarello Treviso” was the name of the manufacturer and model of the bicycle.
However, Treviso is the town where Pinarello builds its bicycles -
every one of their frames has this stamp!
I have received some conflicting information
on some details, probably because some bikes had custom features, but it seems
the Treviso usually had only the right (drive) side chain stay in chrome to
protect it from chain slap, and this bicycle has chrome on both chain and seat stays. By the way, the chrome
was another clue that this was a repaint due to the position of the masking
area, which is different from any Treviso examples I’ve seen online.
I finally received some definitive
information from a company called Gita, which during the ‘80s was pretty much
the exclusive importer of Italian racing frames in the United States. A rep
named Tim told me that this is most likely a Treviso because it does not have
the internal cable routing on the top tube like the Prestige and Montello models.
He also confirmed that the fork wasn’t original and said the stays had
unpolished chrome under the paint.
Finally Tim pointed out that Trevisos were
made with Columbus SL tubing, which has a smooth internal surface, as opposed
to the rifled surface of SLX tubing used for Montellos. He suggested that when
the bottom bracket is disassembled I could poke a finger up through the down
tube to confirm the tubing type.
Strangely (maybe not) the seller ignored my inquiry
about whether he is the original owner and how he knows what model the bicycle
is. I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt and think that maybe he
purchased it from someone else who was dishonest, but avoiding my questions
seemed suspicious. He then gave me a story about having some other buyer (not
that I’d want him to deceive someone else!) and offered a refund.
Yeah, that would be great idea if he didn’t
live in Bulgaria. Shipping large packages to Europe is MAJORLY expensive! I
checked online for prices on a standard bicycle 54 x 30 x 8-inch box at 27
pounds and was unable to find anything less expensive than DHL at $941. That’s
much more than I paid for the bicycle itself!
A couple more email exchanges to relay shipping estimates and explain what I would have paid
for the bicycle had I known its true
condition, and the seller agreed that a $250 partial refund sounded like a better option. It has
been a few days without the funds appearing in my account, so I’m holding my
breath.
I have been thinking about what I will
eventually do with this bike, and I’ll share my thoughts soon.
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