Adieu, Pou-Pou.

                                                           R.I.P. Raymond Poulidor

                                          Raymond Poulidor, 15.04.1936 - 13.11.2019

                                             *********************************


                                                                                                             
                                                                                                                                       V.S.R.

Addio Felice

                              R.I.P. Felice Gimondi cyclist,

                        29 September 1942 - 16 August 2019

Tour de France, 1975

                                                                                                                                                                                     

God Save the Queen!

(Plate commemorating the Coronation of Elizabeth II on 2 June, 1953.)

                                    Sixty five years on the throne. Congratulations, Your Majesty.

Signor Tonelli

That's what we called him, although we never really knew his real name.

Mr. Tonelli was the father of the owner of the pizzaria next door to our bike shop. We figured he was in his late 60's, maybe a bit older. Tonelli's was the name of the pizza place, although to the best of our knowledge no one there went by that name. He would help in the kitchen and in slower moments would come in and visit the shop.

His command of english was rudimentary, but we managed to learn from him -and his son- that he had been a racer for Bianchi's team before the war. i don't know what races he competed it- i wish now i had asked him. He told us a couple of amusing tales about Filiero Masi's womanizing and Cino Cinelli's tight-fistedness, among others.

We knew he followed the Giro d'Italia and the Tour de France and was a fan of Felice Gimondi. In the summer of '73, when we asked him who'd won the Tour, he just shook his head and said, "the Spaniard."

A post tonight on Mid-Life Cycling reminded me of our Mr. Tonelli.

One afternoon, he dropped in and watched our lead mechanic toss a taco'ed wheel into the trash. He pulled it out, eyeballed it, stuck the rim under the lip of the display case and did a dance step on it, put it in the jig and tweaked some spokes, pulled it back out and repeated the process twice more, and proudly presented a reasonably rideable wheel to an admiring audience.

It was a skill he'd undoubtedly learnt back in the days when racers had to do their own roadside repairs or take the long walk home.

We didn't have the heart to tell him that we'd already sold the customer a brand new wheel, but we did keep that wheel hanging up in the back shop for the rest of the summer.

"On, on, on..."

1965 in the Rainbow.

Yesterday was the 49th anniversary of the death of Tom Simpson on the slopes of Mt. Ventoux during the 13th stage of the Tour d France.

Tom's last ride, 13 July, 1967.

Popular lore tells us that his last words were, "Put me back on my bike." This is apocryphal...

Actually they were "On, on,on."

Tom Simpson was the first Englishman to win the World's Road Championship.

In better days...

Tom with his Peugeot team mate, a young Eddy Merckx.

On Ventoux.

The memorial on Ventoux.

Really Big Gears!

Saw this bike yesterday while on my ride:

Classic Old School speed machine!

The owner told me that it was a 68(!) tooth ring. The inner ring looked like maybe a 62, but he wasn't sure himself. i forgot to ask who built the frameset, but was told it was titanium and about 25-30 years old. The original fork was replaced with a Kestrel carbon unit. It appeared that the rear brake was fitted to an adapter mounted on cantilever studs. Given the generous clearances, i wonder if it was originally built for cyclocross?

Jacques Anquetil would be envious... T.A. rings, 225mm Bullseye crank arms. Minimal ground clearance!

The rider had just come in from riding a rather rolling circuit. Looked like he had a 13-25 freewheel mounted. i asked how he got up those hills, and he said basically that he just takes a good run at them. i couldn't imaging turning over that windmill crank at any speed under 25mph! It reminded me of pictures i'd seen of the time trialists  in the old British cycling magazines, back when road racing there almost exclusively consisted of 25 and 50 mile TTs.

The guy was probably about my age or so, meaning late middle aged. As i get older my choice of the big rings has gone from 53, to 52, to 48, down to 46T... i have a bit of envy for a fellow whose knees and leg muscles can still turn over those gears!

If i encounter this rider and machine again (and it will probably be in the parking lot as there's no way i'd catch him on the road!), i'll try to take more pics of this unique bike. If you have an idea as to its origins/builder, pass them along? Thanks! 

So, who is this guy?

This grim fellow in my avatar is Giusto Cerutti, walking out the 7th stage of the 1928 Tour de France. Back in the early days of the Tour, a rider was basically on his own for support, meaning he bought and maintained his own gear.  Giusto has fallen off and roached his front wheel and banged up his knee. i haven't been able to learn where along the stage he was at the time, or how he finally got back in, but it is clear that he abandoned after the stage.

Giusto was born 9 March, 1903 in San Giusto Canavese (Piemonte), Italy. He raced professionally from 1927 to 1932. i could find little else about his life, but i seem to recall he rode the Tour more than once. Giusto went on to live a long -and presumably happy- life after his cycling career; he died at the age of 90 on 17 December, 1993, in Torino (Piemonte.)

Giusto Cerutti is one of my heroes from what i consider to be the Golden Age of Cycling. Future posts here may feature some of my other heroes (and villains) of the sport.

If anyone happens to read this and can pass along any further info about Signor Cerutti, please let me know? Graze!