Out of the Battleground Inn Sunday by 11:00, and back to the Rec Center for the show. In we go into the main gym. Ohmigod! Total brain lock up sets in as the entire floor is coated with dream bikes. Red ones, blue ones, subtle ones, gold plated ones, big, small and everything in between. In a daze I circle the floor. I can't even begin to formulate a strategy to view this cornucopia. After about 10 minutes I deliberately turn my back and hit the vendors table to give my senses a chance to recover before starting to look.
The first story of the day is that Dale is hors de combat. A nasty cut on his foot/leg from a display resulted in a trip to the hospital and some stitches. Dale, trooper that he is, would return later in the day, but it's a hard blow for someone who worked so hard to not see the culmination of his efforts. Dale, we missed you terribly, but your show went on perfectly. And we all owe a debt of gratitude to those who stepped in and ran things with Dale out of action. I don't know all the names, but whomever you are, thanks. Especially thanks to Jeff Archer (one name I do know) who was one of these heroes.
There were two rooms of vendors as well as vendors all around the rim of the gym, so I toured them first. Alas, no sign of a black Cyclone GT rear derailleur, but you can't have everything. Mark Poore and I both promised we wouldn't take on any more projects this trip. I found poor Mark sitting in the lobby with a bemused look. He confessed that he bought two frames, but the prices were so good he couldn't pass em up. Actually, restraining yourself to two is pretty good going, with some of the stuff that was for sale. I was lucky that there were no bare road frames for sale in my size.
I did score a pair of NOS Ambrosio Durex Medaille D'Or tubular rims and a spare Fiamme Red label rim, all for $43 bucks. The Tufo's worked fine on the sometimes harsh roads and you never forget how sweet tubulars ride, so it looks like I'll be riding more sew ups this year. Chris Kvale sold me an excellent '72 NR rear very reasonably, and I also got a pair of Patrick touring shoes for a great price. And then, after several circles and hemming and hawing, I couldn't resist Jan Johnson's sales rack and bought two Allesandro jerseys for $45 each.
With the shopping out of the way, I returned to the main gym floor and perused the bikes. There were so many that I can't even begin to describe them. A few that stick in my mind were the Wiegle frame he was displaying, with the Jessica Rabbit style lugs and a rear facing braze on for an led light just below the seat lug (but of course! Where else should it go?), the Romulus in Grant Petersons booth (It really caught my eye, a lovely bike and a screaming deal at $1,400 complete except for saddle and pedals with super high function parts), Chuck Schmidt's green Peter Johnson Drillium Special, a Molteni colored Land Shark mit lugs, and actual early 80's Molteni Merckx, Chris Kvale's table with a naked Kvale frame that was heartbreakingly beautiful (the lug joints looked liquid), John Pergolizzi with several nifty fixer uppers including a Cinelli that fortunately was too small for me, and on and on and on.
Then it was getting late and I had 9 or so hours to drive home. So around 2:30 it's time to go. Dale was back, and I stopped to shake his hand, and a few other hands around the room, rolled my show bikes off the floor (I hope someone enjoyed seeing them, even though I had no chance of winning anything in that field!) loaded the van and hopped it. Apparently I missed some great closing moments, but that saved me from breaking down totally. CSNY was in the CD, and as I drove away with a big lump in my throat, they wailed the words from Woodstock, "got to get back to the land, and set my soul free". For three days, my soul was free. Thanks to all of you who participated, you made it special.
Tom Adams, Shrewsbury NJ
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