This text is a part of a collection referred to as ‘A love letter to…’, the place Biking Weekly writers pour reward on their favorite facets of biking. The under content material is unfiltered, genuine and has not been paid for.
I winced as I put my card within the reader. I couldn’t bear in mind ever seeing a quantity that massive trying again at me. £600. Enter pin. I half hoped I’d get the code unsuitable.
Sensing a buyer with chilly toes, the person behind the until requested if every little thing was okay. I insisted it was, however my sluggish number-punching informed a unique story. It was the summer time of 2018, and I used to be standing in an out-of-town bike store, about to spend probably the most cash I had ever spent on something in my life.
I had discovered the worthy merchandise on-line earlier that afternoon: a matte black Specialised Allez, in a 61cm body. Excited and impatient, I pressured my dad to drive me to the store, the place I wobbled for 30 seconds across the automotive park on a ‘take a look at trip’ earlier than I made up my thoughts. This bike could be my bike. It’s solely when cash obtained concerned that I began to backpedal.
Hindsight, after all, tells me now that it was the perfect £600 I ever spent. Like your first automotive, pet, or trainer at college, there finally ends up being one thing legendary about your first highway bike. It’s the machine that launched you to freedom, a sacred reminiscence, the footwear that might by no means be crammed.
My Allez was product of aluminium. It had skinny handlebars, rim brakes, and a gaggle of ugly wires splayed out in entrance. It was the most affordable entry-level highway bike in the marketplace, and it got here with clunky cages across the pedals. To me, it was treasure.
I bear in mind spending extra time taking pictures of it than I did using it at first. Quickly, although, we had been collectively within the French Alps, weaving up the hairpins of Alpe d’Huez, basking within the sunshine.
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I virtually misplaced my Allez on that journey, sufferer to a rusty roof rack, which snapped and despatched the bike tumbling down the aspect of the automotive. I clung so tightly to the body by way of the open window that my arm throbbed in ache. Afterwards, scratches slashed by way of the ‘S’ on ‘Specialised’ written on the downtube. The accidents had been solely superficial.
From there, we spent holidays exploring new mountain ranges, from the Pyrenees to the Yokshire Dales. I upgraded the flat pedals to cleats, due to a second-hand pair of Shimano footwear I purchased on eBay. I nonetheless bear in mind the advert now. “Promoting as a result of I fell down the steps carrying them.” I paid £7, they usually arrived in a sellotaped plastic bag.
The love affair with my Allez lasted an intense two years. On the finish of that time period, I used to be anticipating a greater set of gears, and lured by a world of infinite upgrades, I hopped aboard a brand new Trek and rode away into the sundown. My new Emonda was the Buzz Lightyear motion determine, the scratched Allez the Woody doll that was left dwelling within the toy field. Off I pedalled, to infinity and past.
It wasn’t till years later that I got here to actually recognize my Allez. As Joni Mitchell as soon as sang: “You don’t know what you bought ‘til it’s gone.” She was, albeit, lamenting the destruction of nature in her music ‘Massive Yellow Taxi’, however the sentiment rings true of having your bike nicked from London park.
By that point, I’d put the flat pedals again on my Allez, and was operating it into the bottom as a metropolis workhorse. The again wheel was buckled, the chain black with grime, however I knew we had many extra miles left in us. Now, my first highway bike lives on as against the law reference quantity.
I attempt not to consider what may need turn out to be of it. Given the awful state it was in, I doubt it was offered for elements. However I used to be reminded of it the opposite day, when a buddy of mine informed me he’d simply taken the plunge on his first highway bike. What did he go for? I requested, hoping he’d discovered the identical treasure as I had. “Um,” he started. “Specialised one thing… Allez?” Bingo. He appeared confused after I returned a heat, nostalgic smile.
