Let me give a big public thank you to Michael on this series of posts.
I really don't have an opinion of Cinelli stuff one way or the other, but I am fascinated by the personal history. It's stuff like this that
makes skimming 150 emails a day worth it. Keep it coming Michael. best, Brandon"monkeyman"Ives Vancouver, B.C.
On Tuesday, Nov 15, 2005, at 09:00 US/Pacific, Michael Allison wrote:
>
> The coolest thing about those first Cinellis I imported was the BB oil
> port with a spring-loaded cap. It didn\u2019t make much sense to me but
it
> was unique. I was also impressed that each frame had its own serial
> number. The chromed steel bars and badged stem were beautiful, too, >
but
> very heavy. So I searched for replacement English or French aluminum
> bars.
>
> When other cyclists saw my new Cinelli it seemed like everybody wanted
> one. I was now in the bike importing business and ordered another
group
> of five bikes the following year. Sometimes a potential customer would
> ask to ride my bike around Central Park. This was never a problem
> because I knew the riders. But one day a friend took my bike for a >
ride
> and returned a short while later with my broken and bent Cinelli. He
> had rear-ended a car stopped for light because he was looking down at
> the gears. He paid me without complaint and I gave him the bike. So >
one
> the five in my next order to Cinelli & C. was a new bike for myself,
> this time painted all silver.
>
> The following year I went to Europe for the first time and
planed to
> visit the Cinelli bike company. I wrote that I would stop by sometime
> in late July. That summer I had gotten a job to lead a group of young
> teenage (14-15) boys and girls on an American Youth Hostels cycling
> tour in Europe. I had been a long time hangers on at the New York AYH
> headquarters on West 8th Street near MacDougal Street. Since I wasn\u2019t
> getting paid, I worked out a deal where I would have two weeks on my
> own once everyone returned to New York. AYH also gave me a little >
money
> for the extra time and a plane ticket home.
>
> The tour route was completely booked ahead at hostels and small
> hotels. So all I had to do was follow the script and take care of the
> money and the group. We flew on a chartered flight (there were several
> other groups) to Gatwick Airport in London and rented new English
three
> speed (Sturmey Archer gears) bicycles. After a few days in London, we
> headed out into the English countryside through Kent and other shires
> to Dover and the ferry to Cherbourg France. That first tour went south
> along the Atlantic coast and then across southern France to
> Switzerland. Once in Zurich, the bikes were shipped back to the renter
> in England, and we continued on by train through Switzerland and Italy
> down to Rome.
>
> After Rome, the group flew to Paris, where we spent a week
> sightseeing. Finally everyone was on the plane to New York and I got >
on
> a train to Milan (probably the only northern Italian city the group
> didn\u2019t visit). About a day later, after I recovered from a ten-hour
> (12?) trip and two time zones, I set out for Via Egidio Folli 45. My
> recollection is that it was outside the central part of the city of
> Milan. From the outside, the place looked like a country estate of
> some old family. It had a high yellow brick wall with an ornate
> wrought-iron
> gate at the main entrance. I pushed it open and walked into a small
> courtyard. There was a small brick house on one side and what looked
> like a carriage house/garage on the other and trees everywhere.
>
> I entered the house and was greeted by a petite woman seated at
a
> desk. Behind her, on the wall, hung a large photograph of a man on a
> track bike looking straight at the camera. It could be only one >
rider.
> \u201cHello, welcome to the Cinelli company,\u201d she greeted me in perfect
> English. I introduced myself and recalled my transactions and letters
> to the company. \u201cYes, I remember you. I\u2019m Heidi Cinelli.\u201d Her
first
> name certainly wasn\u2019t Italian. Years later I would learn she was the
> daughter of Seiber, the Swiss bicycle maker. She left the room briefly
> and returned with Cino.
>
> \u201cThis is signore Cinelli,\u201d she introduced him. He was imposing,
more
> than six feet tall and slightly over weight. He had intense eyes and
> dark hair slicked straight back. \u201cHello,\u201d he said with an
outstretched
> hand, \u201cwelcome to Milano.\u201d He had an air of confidence and, it
> impressed me that he didn\u2019t give his name. Hey, I was a
> twenty-something boyish man. Signore Cinelli said something like >
\u201ccome,
> I will show you the shop.\u201d
>
> We left the house, walked to the carriage house/garage across then way
> and into a side door. It was a small bicycle factory. He said
something
> in Italian to one of the men near the door then showed me the
workshop.
> It was a small production line with workstations. There were several
> craftsmen, each working on a different part of the frame: one brazed
> forks, another brazed the main triangle, another cut and mitered >
tubes,
> and still another filed completed frames. At each station, wooden
racks
> filled with their labor. There were completed and half completed
> bicycles all over the place in what seemed like organized chaos. When
> we went to each station, Cinelli spoke to the workman, then to me in
> English, explaining what was happening. (to be continued)
>
>
> =09
>
> =09
>
> =09