In yesterday’s post I included the Milwaukee, as fine a sporting road bicycle as one could hope to own, and over the weekend I fell for it all over again:
It first came to me in, as I recall, 2015:
And almost immediately it became one of my most-ridden bicycles, performing every role from proto-gravel bike…
…to be-fendered rain bike:
My elder son even commandeered it for awhile:
…after which I decided to bestow Primary Road Bike status upon it, and sent it back to Milwaukee/Ben’s Cycle for refinishing in early 2023:
Upon reassembling the bike I knew I had something special, for its appearance was finally equal to its performance:
A few tweaks later (including perhaps the most thorough rear derailleur auditioning process every conducted) I felt as though I had cultivated something close to the ideal road bike:
And so confident was I in it that I even did the unthinkable and returned the Litespeed to Classic Cycle in a well-meaning attempt to reduce my total number of bicycles:
Though this eventually boomeranged on me, for just when I’d come to terms with not having a fancy titanium road bike, Paul of Classic Cycle went and sent me a fancy titanium and carbon road bike:
This is like when you tell your drug dealer you’re off crack and he replies, “Congratulations! This calls for a celebration! Here, help yourself to some heroin.”
I keep telling myself I’m going to send it back, but then Early-Aughts Me who at the time would have sacrificed a digit for a bike like this appears on my shoulder and says, “C’mon, let’s just keep it a little longer, pleeze???”
By the way, as I’ve mentioned, the bike (size 57) is still technically for sale from Classic Cycle, and as happened with the Davidson I wish someone would just buy it already so I don’t end up doing it myself:
If you’re interested feel free to drop me a line.
See, I’m still trying (and failing) to simplify my velocipedal holdings, and I thought I had it all worked out. The way I see it is, I’ve got the Core Collection of Bikes, those being the Jones as the go-anything, do-anywhere terrain-conqueror:
Then I’ve got the Rivendae…
…which form the backbone of the whole operation insofar as they’re equal parts comfortable, versatile, and visually appealing:
Okay, fine, I’ve got three of them instead of one, which isn’t exactly simplifying, but three is an inherently elegant number:
Also, spiritually speaking, three is really the same thing as one. Just as the Catholics still call themselves monotheists despite worshipping the trinity, I espouse simplicity despite having a trinity of Rivendae and really think of them as one bike.
Then there are the Road Bikes. What can I say? I will always have a Fred inside me. (And yes, I know what that sounds like.) The Rivendae are like beer–sure, you can get fancy about it, but fundamentally it’s a drink for any occasion. Road bikes however are like whiskey–intense and elating, but will impair walking and are liable to leave you in a lot of pain afterwards if you’re not careful. But sometimes you need a stiff drink. And like the Rivendae, I’d also narrowed the Road Bikes down to a three-in-one trinity, consisting of The Classic:
The Funky Hot Rod:
And of course the Milwaukee, which as I say is the Primary Road Bike, and is to my mind is the embodiment of what the modern road racing bike would be if it had evolved in some sort of alternate dimension in which things actually made sense and practicality were just as important as speed:
It’s got the best of the modern features such as the cassette hub, and the silky-smooth ramped-and-pinned shifting, and the simple and dependable outboard bearing crank and threadless fork, and even the sloping top tube for a little seatpost compliance and crotchal clearance, but it’s also made of steel and uses friction shifting and, most crucially, takes medium-reach rim brakes:
Just as powerful and responsive as their short-reach siblings, but easily accommodate a 32mm tire with room to spare:
Also, despite the sparkly finish and the premium ride, this is still fundamentally a Dirtbag Road bike. No fancy boutique parts:
And all business:
That said, I’m not getting any younger, and I’d be lying if I didn’t find myself also contemplating something similarly sporting, but maybe just a bit more relaxed and upright, and possibly with lugs…
[Via Rivendell]
Someone really needs to invent a bike-specific safe search browser so I don’t look at this stuff.
Anyway, the point of all this is that the Jones, the Rivendae, and the Road Bikes would form the main cast, then thanks to my gig as the Classic Cycle Old Crap Test Pilot I’d keep rotating Guest Stars in and out:
That way I could continue to indulge myself in exotica whilst still maintaining the necessary detachment:
And experience all sorts of curiosities I might not have otherwise:
And travel far back in time:
And gain new insight into what we’ve gotten right over the years, and what we’ve gotten wrong…so, so wrong:
Speaking of the Y-Foil, what’s old is new again:
It’s even got “Y” in the name, how do you like that?
But yes, sometimes I get unduly attached to the Guest Stars, and the LeMond is easily one of the finest turn-of-the-century road bikes I’ve ever ridden:
And since I’m trying to maintain this whole Core Collection/Guest Star thing, if if you’ve ever dreamed of owning the ne pas ultra of Fin de Siècle Fred Sleds and are looking to buy yourself a Christmas and/or Hanukkah gift I’m happy to help broker a deal for it, and I’m confident we could beat the competition’s prices:
On the other hand, thanks to gravel, the death of the rim brake, and so forth there’s probably never been a better time to go Full Cheapo and build yourself a true dirtbag road bike. For example, as a Nishiki owner, I couldn’t help noticing this:
Meanwhile, this probably rides 90% as nicely as the Tete de Course:
And if you really want to lean into it you can slap a 9-speed group on this baby:
It truly is the Dawning of the Age of the Dirtbag.