It Wasn't Eddy's Bike

Ever since I started cycling, I've heard no end of debates about which frame tubing is "best." And, as long as I continue cycling, I'll probably never hear the end of such arguments.

Of course, for the first two decades or so I was a dedicated cyclist, nearly all frames were made of steel.  Even after other frame materials such as aluminum, titanium and carbon fiber first came onto the market, it took about a decade for them to appear in European pelotons.

So, in my youth, the Great Tubing Debate was mainly one of Reynolds vs. Columbus.  A few cyclists preferred Tange, Ishiwata or Vitus tubing, but nearly anyone who had a custom frame built--or simply had any pretensions of being a "serious" cyclist--chose Reynolds or Columbus.

Deep down, I always knew that it made only so much difference.  All of the tubings I mentioned are of high quality and can therefore be built into light, responsive and sturdy bikes.  The design and build quality of the frame matter far more than which company's metal is used.

The bike about which I am going to write today helped me to learn that lesson.

Back in the 1970's and '80's, a Mexican bicycle company called Windsor made a frame and bike called the "Profesional."  (Note the Spanish spelling, with one "s".)  If the decals were removed, most people would have had trouble telling it apart from the work of De Rosa, Colnago and other legendary Italian bike makers.

Like its old-world counterparts, the Profesional featured Columbus SL tubes (SP on the larger-size frames) joined with long-point lugs.  The Profesional even had the sunset-orange finish (which I have always liked a lot) of the De Rosas and Colnagos Eddy Mercx and his Molteni team rode to victories in the Tour de France, Giro d'Italia and just about every other race you can think of.

As a matter of fact, in 1972, Mercx broke the hour record on a Colnago painted in that color, but covered with Windsor decals.  That ride in the Mexico City velodrome probably was the first time cyclists outside Mexico knew that Windsor bicycles existed.

A complete Windsor Profesional bicycle with Campagnolo Record components could be had for about half the cost of a Colnago, DeRosa or other Italian iron.  The Profesional frame was available for about a third, or even less, than what one of those old-world steeds cost.

Not long after I bought my Colnago Arabesque, I acquired a somewhat-used Profesional frame with a seatpost and headset for $100, a good price even then.  It became one of my "parts bin bikes":  clincher wheels with Shimano 600 hubs, Sun Tour dearilleurs and Sugino cranks and, perhaps incongruously, Mafac 2002 centerpull brakes.

Aside from the fact that they were in my parts box, there was another reason I used those brakes:  They were gold anodized.  You can just imagine how they looked on the sunset-orange frame. And, oh yes, I installed a brown Ideale saddle and wrapped the bars with a brown leather tape Cannondale sold at the time.  That tape was one of two items I bought for the bike:  The bottom bracket that I used with the Sugino crank on another bike was made to fit an English-threaded bike, but the Windsor was built to Italian specifications.  

So how did it ride?  Well, this is where I come back to my point about frame tubing:  Although it was built from the same materials as the Colnago I'd just recently bought and the Gitane Professional I would later acquire, the ride did not compare with either.  The Windsor was at least as stiff as either but its rigidity felt more like that of a bike made of heavier materials.  In other words, it felt "dead" and not very responsive.  My perception didn't change when I swapped the wheels for the best set of tubulars (with sew-up tires) I owned at the time.  

I don't know why the ride was so unpleasant:  If I recall correctly, the wheelbase and angles were the same as (or close to) those of the Colnago.  As far as I could tell, the fit was about the same on both bikes, and I used handlebars and stems with the same dimensions as the ones on my Arabesque.  

For a season, the Windsor Profesional was my commuter and "rainy day" bike, though I did take it on a couple of long-distance fair-weather rides.  Some might say I needed more time to develop a mutually supportive relationship with the bike but the Colnago, Gitane, my Mercians and other bikes I've owned felt "right" to me immediately, even before I'd become acclimated to their particular idiosyncrasy.    So, the parts on the bike went back to my bin--for use on the next frame I would acquire--and I sold my Windsor Profesional for $50 more than what I originally paid for it.      

  

A Reflection On My Treks Past

The bike I rode yesterday is the third Trek I've owned.

So, naturally, I got to thinking about the other two.

My first Trek was also the first "pure" racing bike I owned.  It might well have the tightest geometry of any road bike I've ever had.

The Trek 930 frame was made from 1977 until 1981.  Mine, I believe, was from 1979 and was made by master frame builder Tim Isaac, who began building frames for Trek that year.  

The 930--which should not be confused with a singletrack mountain bike bearing the same numerical designation, which Trek offered during the 1990's--was a classic lugged bike constructed from Columbus SL tubing.  (The larger sizes used the slightly thicker-walled Columbus SP.)  The one in the photo is the same size as mine was:  a 56cm seat tube.  But, like other racing bikes of the time, it came with a top tube of the same size as the seat tube.  That meant I had to ride with a short-reach stem, which made the steering less than optimal.

But the bike could accelerate, thanks to its short chainstays and wheelbase.  Being young and full of testosterone (and other substances), I could blast that thing on the flats.  Oddly, though, it didn't climb quite as well as some other bikes I've had, including ones with longer wheelbases and chainstays.

And there is one other difference between my 930 and the one in the photo:  Mine was black.  However, it had the same style of lettering you see in the image, and, unlike some other Treks, didn't have a contrasting-color band.  I equipped it with a mixture of racing components, a tan Ideale 2002 saddle and red handlebar wrap and cable housings.

Trek 930 with period components--except for the seat, of course.

I bought the frame while I was working at Highland Park Cyclery. If I remember correctly, I took that frame in lieu of three or four days' pay.  Later, I acquired my second Trek in a similar way.

That frame, a 1982 Trek 510, became the bike I would ride on my second European tour, which took me from Rome and up the coast of Italy into France.  If you have, or have ridden, a Rivendell Rambouillet, you have an idea of what that bike was like.  In the 1970's and 1980's, a number of bike companies offered bikes like it, which were called "sport tourers."  As you might have guessed, their geometry wasn't as tight as that of a racing bike, but it didn't have the "lumber wagon" dimensions of many touring bikes.  It's the sort of bike you could take on a quick training ride, or to which you could attach a rack and panniers for a short or light tour.  

The bike had a longer wheelbase and chainstays than the 930, although it was the same size.  Strangely, though, it had a top tube of the same length.  But I didn't mind riding a short-reach stem on the 510 as much as I did on the 930 because I often rode the 510 with a handlebar bag.

It was constructed of Ishiwata 022. I don't know whether Ishiwata tubing is still made, but a number of bike builders were building some nice frames from it.  Like Tange tubing, it was made in Japan and was a chrome-molybdenum steel.

My 510 came in the same colors--a burgundyish red with a silver/grey band on the seat post--at the one in the photo.  However, I didn't use yellow accessories:  My water bottle cage, like the rack I installed on it, was silver.  And I rode it with a tan leather saddle and brown leather handlebar tape--from Cannondale, I believe.

I actually got it after I'd "officially" stopped working at Highland Park.  However, Frank, the then-owner, let me work a couple of days to pay for it.  I think it was a "leftover" from the previous year that he wanted to move.

For about a year, I owned both the 930 and 510.  Then I sold the 930 so I could buy "the bike of the future."  But that's a story for another post.