My Seven was supposed to be my last road bike I ever
bought. It wasn’t and I shared that tale here. Based on the logic that my Seven
was supposed to be my last bike the replacement would therefore be L+1. Since I was breaking the rules and going to
the well, I might as well make it special. I often had the thought, “If someday
I got a carbon wonderbike, it would be…”
It turned out Someday came at the end of 2018.
I am a bike geek.
When I am listening to the Cyclingtips podcast and the siren comes on
signaling the “Nerd Alert,” my HR quickens.
I read reviews and surf websites seeking to expand my knowledge as if
there is a test looming. I know there is
no test. But if there was a test, I would kick ass on that test.
I was old enough for a Titanium bike twelve years ago
when I bought the Seven. After buying it
I aged into the wrinkly guy on the Ti bike that out climbs the young punks. I may not be fast enough to be worthy of
carbon, but I decided I wanted to go there anyway.
I knew the latest Trek’s were impressive. The Madone has evolved to become an aero bike. The Madone looks so badass I didn’t think I
could pull it off. With my enormous ego,
that is saying something. Cervelo is
always a contender. Giant has been
quietly making good bikes and companies like Canyon, Felt and Factor were not
to be overlooked.
I had heard of a company that was still new but had
seasoned players. Allied Cycle Works. Redkiteprayer
had written about them as well as offered up more than one podcast on their
products, their chief designer and their business model. Like so many things, the story is only worth
telling if the resulting product is worthy of the story. The word was the story was feel good and the
bikes were fantastic.
Cute story. But does it fly?
After doing more focused research, the stars aligned and
there was an Allied ALFA frame destined for my garage.
I had pulled a few pieces off the Seven (bars, stem,
crankset, pedals) before selling it, and I began accumulating the various
components needed to build the bike.
It took some time for all the pieces to arrive. Boxes
were showing up in all sizes. Then came the wheels, and more components and
finally the frame was in my hands. During the waiting time I had formed a
mental image of the finished product.
When I put the seat post into the frame and clamped the
seat post in my work stand it was surreal. I looked at it. This was really happening. I put the parts together slowly and
deliberately. I spread the build over
most of a week. It was rainy outside and
there was no reason to rush. It all went
together perfectly. I suppose I wanted
to stretch out and enjoy the process.
The tricolor is in keeping with the made in America theme
When I build a bike my final step is always to wrap the
bars. After tuning the bike and filling
and bleeding the brakes, wrapping the bars it is the equivalent of closing the
hood on a car.
I had measured the X and Y of the bottom bracket, saddle
nose and handlebars and compared it to my prior fit models. It was within an eighth of an inch. I can have that much margin of error in
taking the measurements so I called it perfect.
My calculations of stem length and spacers was spot on.
The next morning it was time to ride it. It is almost scary to take your first ride on
your dream bike. My expectations were
high as I swung a leg over and rolled out. This was it.
The fit was right and it felt natural right off the bat.
After leaving my neighborhood I pointed it uphill. It climbed like a rocket. I
am used to building up the power and accelerating like a turbine. It seemed to just take a single pedal stroke
to be on the attack. On the descent following
the climb I focused on breaking in the discs as instructed by Horst. The handling was stunning. It dared me to go fast.
The machine went
exactly where I pointed it. It felt
precise and agile. This was a different
machine. I had a nickname picked out based on the white color of the
frame. The bike let me know that it was too
serious to have a playful nickname. It
needed a name to reflect that seriousness. The bike’s performance earned its
moniker.
I dubbed it, “The Weapon.”
