Steel My Heart

It seems appropriate to write something bike-love / lust related on this Valentine's Day. For it just so happens that today, a large, suspicious, bike-box package was delivered to the house. I fortunately knew that the treasure that awaited within that box was no less than a red, 1983 Specialized Allez steel frame and fork.

What makes this bike frame particularly special is not just that it is a "Specialized" (ha ha), or that it was one of the rarest of steeds hand built by master Japanese framebuilder Yoshi Konno of San Rensho fame (Think Mr. Miyagi + Yoda with a brazing torch instead of lightsaber) for a period of a couple of years before the company went to mass-production. No, wrapped up in this frameset's pedigree is also that primal goo of human emotion that dances between the contour lines of nostalgia and straight-up pitter-patter-heart love at first sight.

In my case, the first time cupid's arrow scored a direct hit for this beauty I was in 8th grade. I remember something a local kid who was a year or two older than me and also "into bikes" in that geeky non-BMX way first telling me about these bikes. I think I had complained about how the nobly humble but sub-par Royce Union 10 speed I had been rollin' around on was somewhat of a transit bus. His response was simply "Buy Specialized..." Really? Just like that, with all that 8th grader expendable income of mine... So it was to be a mongrel Schwinn, humble Centurion, and aspiring Peugeot for a few years. I swear the Frenchman who put my Peugeot together must have been drunk or still hungover, torch in hand, the day it was liberated from his brazing jig!

Vintage tasty! It must be
looking for components

Then, one hazy afternoon about 8 years later, while an undergraduate at the University of California at Santa Cruz, I was loitering around one of the local bike shops and noticed her... an absolutely stunning metallic red steel Specialized Allez hanging from the lower rafters in the shop. Sadly, even in my stunned daze of hopelessly smitten crush, I could tell that the frame was a bit too large for me from the length of the headtube. But I also noticed her clean, elegant lines and unique (compared to the mass-produced version), chromed dropouts (the little slots that the wheel hubs/axles fits into). Sensing that I was a mediocre-at-best racer, the shop wrench was quick to admonish me, "Duude, a frame that's too big IS DEATH in a corner at high speed!!!.." Death! And so I left her there in that shop, never looking back, for fear I might turn into a pillar of salt or something ... and now that I think about it, I never did step foot in that shop again, as though to do so would only bring heartache and longing for something that I knew was not to be.

Dances with wolves, no.
Dances on pedals, yes.

Yet, her memory lingered. She haunted me from time to time when that B-movie with Kevin Costner (American Flyers) came up in conversation (ok, maybe I'd bring it up only to invoke her name!!!). She had an important role in that film, and certainly SHOULD HAVE been nominated for "best supporting actress!" She haunted me when years later, I had the privilege of owning a mass-produced version which I had inherited from a friend, but unlike the beauty hanging from that shop ceiling, was a bit too SMALL for me. And she entered my daydreams, now a couple of decades on, settled into the Midwest, when I'd think back to my adolescent years in California, and how I used to envision how my life might be after high school. It included living somewhere in the East Bay area of Northern California (Walnut Creek perhaps?) and of course, owning one of these wonderful bicycles, all decked out in full Shimano Dura-Ace or Suntour Superbe Pro componentry. Commuting to San Francisco via BART train... Epic, year-round outdoor rides. You get the idea.

Rita H. up on some cloud

With every year that passed, the memory of her red metallic paint and elegant, shiny chromed drop-outs stayed with me. From time to time, I would check ebay or Craigslist just to see what was out there, but never quite found what I was looking for. But one day approaching mid-February 2011, I did the usual curious routine search, and suddenly I saw her once again, ... in all of that Rita Hayworth-like metallic red and chrome accented glory! I set my highest bid on a whim and more or less put it out of my mind. When I checked that email account a few days later, I saw the magic words, "You won this item on eBay: Specialized Allez 58cm frame and fork" OMG! OMG! OMG! Pay now... PAY NOW!!!      

For the few days while I waited for her to arrive, I tried to do some research and find out everything I could about this particular model year. That, in itself was very entertaining, as I've come to realize that I am not alone with bike love for this memory machine.

And now she's here, and I'm going to do my best to restore her slowly, bit by bit, new paint, new decals, and part by part. I'm going to enjoy every step in the process, just like those first long-paused eyes and kisses of loves past. Those first sips of coffee and endless conversations. While it might be true that I'm a bit older and (one would hope) wiser now, her arrival's brought a new blush of youthful spring into my cycling life's hiatus (and the harsh Midwestern winter we've had this year!).

While I do not live in the Walnut Creek I imagined, or anywhere near California for that matter (only in my dreams), life is good, and the bike life's about to get even better. I hope to periodically post updates on this new relationship, err, ahem... restoration process. For now though, I am intoxicated in starry-eyed 8th grade bikelust in the throes of this scarlet beauty's spell. Domo arigato Konno-san, ... Domo arigato.