Mama, the Italians are coming!

I am days away from realizing what has been practically a lifelong dream (at least for my entire cycling life) -- to own a Campagnolo-outfitted road bike. It will be a Bianchi San Lorenzo with Campagnolo Chorus gruppo. Sadly, to make room a bike must go. I'll be selling my Trek race bike. It's been a good bike ... blah, blah, blah. You don't need to hear any of that. Yeah, right anyway. I'm building a hot, sexy new Campy- clad Bianchi. I'm certainly not going to shed any tears over a piece of Trek. My eventual plan is to phase out all the Shimano I possibly can from the bike stable. Not that I think Japanese world cycling domination is a bad thing. They make some fine stuff. Fine stuff that everybody has. Plus, learning a new way to move my fingers to shift with ErgoPower levers will make me smarter. It works the left brain. Or, so 'they' say.

There it is, all in boxes -- my future bike. The Zonda wheelset is on the floor below the work bench. (You wouldn't think such tiny boxes could cost so much, eh?) Don't you kinda like the way the Campy Chorus box accents highlight the flashy bra stretched across the rim on the wall? Oh yeah, it's classy stuff. While I'm at it, here's another photo of the shop. Yep, the Trek XO-1 Cross bike will be on the chopping block soon (as part of Phase 2 of the Shimano Reduction Initiative). If yer in the market for a road or cross bike, drop me a line.

This room I am fortunate enough to call my bike shop used to be the coal room for the apartment building. It was one nasty place when we moved in but the landlord agreed to let me use it for cheap. There's no way we could have fit all these silly bicycles into our apartment! So I went to work cleaning it out. I still regularly find clumps of coal on the floor as if the spirits who inhabit the space get into great throwing matches when I'm not around. Who knows? Concrete walls are not conducive to shelving -- I do know that. But I've been able to get creative and suspend some shelving units constructed out of found/trash lumber from the joists above. Five or six fluorescent lights, a couple benches, a scrap of pegboard, and ... instant shop! As the room is below ground with no windows it is quite secure and the ambient temperature is rather cave-like making it comfy year 'round. It is a toilet and a beer fridge short of qualifying as my vacation home. (Which is good since I spend all my my $$ on bikes and can't afford vacations anyway.)