Connecting the Dots
This is a tale of two bicycles, both gifts, both with dots. It begins in 2004 or perhaps it was 2005 when I was planning an extended bike tour of New Zealand. I was talking about this with my friend Albert who had already built me two bikes, what he called a “gentleman’s racer” in 1996 and a time trial bike a couple years later. He asked me what bike I was planning on taking. I told him an older Klein that I’d been using as a commute/town bike recently. He said, “How about I make you a proper touring bike?” I replied that it really wasn’t in the budget. He responded that it would be his gift as I’d done him a lot of wine related favors recently. I thought that this was a disproportionate gift and asked if I could at least cover the cost of materials. He said, “Fine.”
A few months later the bike was ready. I asked Albert what I owed him for the tube set and he said, “Nothing”. Albert is as stubborn as he is generous. It was an astoundingly attractive frame. Like the other two bikes he’d made for me there was a reference to grapes or wine. In this case the colors. The fork was a grapey purple, the rear triangle bright leaf green, improbably integrated by purple grape polka dots on a white ground on the head tube and front of the triangle. I set it up with a mix of parts and some Bruce Gordon racks and bags and headed off. After a couple years of touring I put cyclocross tires on it and used it for another 10 years as a gravel racer.
Of the dozens of bicycles that I’ve owned over the years this one attracts the most notice and comments from strangers, both cyclists and ordinary citizens. I think it is the whimsical combination of the colors and the playfulness of the polka dots. Looking at this bike simply makes people happy.
Because it was sturdily built for the stresses of loaded touring this bike was far from ideal for the type of riding I began using it for. It was way too stiff and the tire clearances too tight for the rough dirt roads and single-track trails that typical California gravel riding entails. The cantilever brakes left a lot to be desired compared to modern discs as well. My bike pals, and my son in particular began to pester me about replacing it with a more suitable rig. Again, my response was, “It’s not in the budget, this bike works well enough.”
On my 68th Birthday my son came to visit and ride a gravel race called The Cote which I had been organizing for several years. He left a discreet envelope in my office that I almost missed before he left to head home. If I wasn’t going to upgrade my gravel bike, he was going to gift me into it. Once again, I protested that this was too generous. He demurred, stating, “Come on Dad, think of all the bikes you’ve given me over the years.” My brother and many of my bike buddies got into the act with gifts of wheels and other parts which was sweet and unexpected.
The builder, Curtis, is one of my son’s best friends and a good friend of mine as well but still it was six months before I had my new bike. I did convince my son that the custom paint should be at my expense not his. And what would the paint scheme be? It had to have polka dots. That was a given. I had never owned a yellow bike and now was my chance.
I picked out the hues of white and yellow at an auto supply house and provided the codes for the job. I was a bit put off when it came back from paint as the painter clearly did not understand the important difference between polka dots (my spec) and speed dots (his execution). Oh well, it’s not a perfect world and I’ve grown to like the speed dots. I love the bike! Its performance is flawless and it’s far faster than I am. What I love even more is the continuity of love and generosity that runs through my real family and equally real bike family and friends and the way that it connects the dots between these two bikes.
The Eisentraut has become my townie and continues to get tons of use. It still draws comments. The Inglis gets bashed around dirt roads and trails a couple times a week where it enables my recklessness.