Your favorite C&V tour memory
#1
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Your favorite C&V tour memory
A recent thread asking for guidance about a good vintage bike for touring got me reminiscing about the trips I have taken on vintage bikes. I’d like to hear about your best touring memory. Kindly let me share mine.
My favorite memory is from April 1983, 19 days around Ireland on a dark blue Fuji Finest, equipped with red Cannondale panniers and front handlebar bag. Wisely I swapped the tubulars for clinchers before the trip. The Fuji certainly wasn’t the best for touring, but I loved it and it was what I had at the time. It was just two of us, we were and still are good cycling friends from school, and it was my first trip abroad.
It rained 17 days out of 19, but most days were a “grand soft rain” as the locals told us.
When the wind and rain were a bit too much, we rode the train, buying a rail pass for our bikes and putting them in the mail car, and adjourning to the cozy, warm and dry dining car.
What a great and vivid memory to watch the misty green fields roll by, endless stone fences, thatched roof whitewashed cottages while enjoying hot tea and scones, all to the sound of the clack-clack clack-clack of the old train on the rails.
Those train rides gave us a bit of a reprieve from the chilly rain. Warmed and dried out a bit we got off the train when the scenery looked enticing, collected our bikes from the mail car, and rode off down narrow roads into the rich green Irish countryside.
I learned that biking through a foreign land is a wonderful way to learn its secrets. It is a baptism of sorts, especially in the rain.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you all.
My favorite memory is from April 1983, 19 days around Ireland on a dark blue Fuji Finest, equipped with red Cannondale panniers and front handlebar bag. Wisely I swapped the tubulars for clinchers before the trip. The Fuji certainly wasn’t the best for touring, but I loved it and it was what I had at the time. It was just two of us, we were and still are good cycling friends from school, and it was my first trip abroad.
It rained 17 days out of 19, but most days were a “grand soft rain” as the locals told us.
When the wind and rain were a bit too much, we rode the train, buying a rail pass for our bikes and putting them in the mail car, and adjourning to the cozy, warm and dry dining car.
What a great and vivid memory to watch the misty green fields roll by, endless stone fences, thatched roof whitewashed cottages while enjoying hot tea and scones, all to the sound of the clack-clack clack-clack of the old train on the rails.
Those train rides gave us a bit of a reprieve from the chilly rain. Warmed and dried out a bit we got off the train when the scenery looked enticing, collected our bikes from the mail car, and rode off down narrow roads into the rich green Irish countryside.
I learned that biking through a foreign land is a wonderful way to learn its secrets. It is a baptism of sorts, especially in the rain.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you all.
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#2
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Cycling in France during the grape harvest, drafting behind the tractor-towed wagons full of the fruit that I could see over (safety first, y'know) and getting the blast of scent. Terrific, until they turned off and I had to begin looking for another one to draft.
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1980. Livermore CA to Washington DC. With a friend as far as Yellowstone, by myself the rest of the way. (He had to get home for his brother's wedding. We're still good friends and ride together whenever we get the chance.) I turned 23 on the road. The bike was a Sekai 2000. I learned the value of a good solid rear wheel built for loaded touring, which that bike did not have. (That rear wheel was the bane of my existence; to be fair, however, the bike was not intended for loaded touring but was what I could afford at the time.) My low gear was a 40x28. O, to be young again . . . . .
This trip was one of the few times I kept a journal. I track the trip day-by-day most years. It has helped keep the memories surprisingly fresh even after almost 43 years.
This trip was one of the few times I kept a journal. I track the trip day-by-day most years. It has helped keep the memories surprisingly fresh even after almost 43 years.
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Glad I kept notes.
That would be TRANSAM Field Note 12
That would be TRANSAM Field Note 12
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Spent a month circling Denmark on a 92 C-dale T1000 with full gear. I followed it up two years later, starting in Apeldoorn Holland and travelling down through Brussels and Antwerp before turning and riding up to Amsterdam for a couple of weeks. Magical trips, both.
My camera took a lot of weird pics... went digital after.
My camera took a lot of weird pics... went digital after.
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I've really only done unsupported bike touring one time (been semi-supported on the C&O Canal path three times, but that's cheating).
It really wasn't much of a tour, but it was memorable. It was either late June, or early July in 1976. My buddy, Phil was a year ahead of me in school and had just graduated. We were both introverted and had both been on the Cross Country and Track teams. We got a bit of the Bikecentennial bug and decided to ride our bikes from Rochester, down to Dansville, find a camp, visit Stony Brook State Park on day two, and then come back on day three. We loaded up our bikes (I think I had a U-08 with a Pletscher rack) with a tent, sleeping bags and a change of clothes and rode the 50 miles south. The main route into Dansville (in the days before I-390) was route 256, and there was a long hill going down into town.
Well we made it without incident, went to Sugar Creek Glen campgrounds, set up the tent, went exploring up the creek (which was quite awesome). Late in the afternoon when we went to the camp store to buy something to eat, we got asked our ages. Honestly, I'm not certain whether they would have asked, but Phil was mixed. Anyway, Phil had turned 18, but I was only 17. Phone calls were made and I had to get my dad to say that I had permission to be there, but despite that, we were told that we could only spend the one night there. I was still fuming about it the next morning, and I don't remember much about climbing that awful hill on the way back except for being asked to slow down once. I wouldn't mind doing some touring in the time I have left, but I think it would be a challenge to persuade my wife to permit it.
It really wasn't much of a tour, but it was memorable. It was either late June, or early July in 1976. My buddy, Phil was a year ahead of me in school and had just graduated. We were both introverted and had both been on the Cross Country and Track teams. We got a bit of the Bikecentennial bug and decided to ride our bikes from Rochester, down to Dansville, find a camp, visit Stony Brook State Park on day two, and then come back on day three. We loaded up our bikes (I think I had a U-08 with a Pletscher rack) with a tent, sleeping bags and a change of clothes and rode the 50 miles south. The main route into Dansville (in the days before I-390) was route 256, and there was a long hill going down into town.
Well we made it without incident, went to Sugar Creek Glen campgrounds, set up the tent, went exploring up the creek (which was quite awesome). Late in the afternoon when we went to the camp store to buy something to eat, we got asked our ages. Honestly, I'm not certain whether they would have asked, but Phil was mixed. Anyway, Phil had turned 18, but I was only 17. Phone calls were made and I had to get my dad to say that I had permission to be there, but despite that, we were told that we could only spend the one night there. I was still fuming about it the next morning, and I don't remember much about climbing that awful hill on the way back except for being asked to slow down once. I wouldn't mind doing some touring in the time I have left, but I think it would be a challenge to persuade my wife to permit it.
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I rode from Finland to the south of France in 1981 on a bike that wasn’t vintage in ‘81. 5 month trip. I did a cross country from Seattle to Boston in ‘97 on a 1983 Trek 720. That bike was vintage at least to the bike mechanics who saw it and were a bit mystified by the Huret duopar rear derailleur, Modolo cantilevers, and the super champion rims.
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My favorite memory and ride was at Eroica California when it was in Paso Robles California. I had exchanged phone #'s with a group from this forum. I got a text from Rich , AKA bikingshearer , about a pre ride on Saturday prior to the event ride. We were to meet at a given time at the center of town where the event was held. After a formal introduction , another BF member showed up for the ride , Matt AKA northbend. We took off and rode through some of the most beautiful countryside I have seen . It was wine country and springtime so the temps were mild , the hills were green and the sky was a mix of blue with dark clouds. The route , thanks to Rich's Garmin was mostly single lane country roads. We had occasional rain drops as we pedaled along. It was a great ride that could never be planned, it had to be spontaneous as it was.
Northbend , Matt , Kabuki 12 , Joe , and Bikingshearer , Rich
Northbend , Matt , Kabuki 12 , Joe , and Bikingshearer , Rich
Last edited by Kabuki12; 03-16-23 at 02:03 PM.
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One of our favorite cycling destinations is Tuscany. The scenery and the food there are hard to beat.
One day, in an over-confident mood, we wandered off the beaten path and - predictably - lost our way. Struggling with unpaved roads and paths that were getting narrower and more overgrown by the minute we finally reached a clearing and found ourselves here:
In the picture it doesn't look too bad, but what you're looking at is a thin sun-dried crust on top of thick, soggy Tuscan clay. And that slope is steep. No way we were going to ride that. Seeing no alternative we clung onto a late youth favorite song ...
... and got underway.
I did manage to get to the top, but had to climb back down to get mrs non-fixie and her bike. And take this picture.
One day, in an over-confident mood, we wandered off the beaten path and - predictably - lost our way. Struggling with unpaved roads and paths that were getting narrower and more overgrown by the minute we finally reached a clearing and found ourselves here:
In the picture it doesn't look too bad, but what you're looking at is a thin sun-dried crust on top of thick, soggy Tuscan clay. And that slope is steep. No way we were going to ride that. Seeing no alternative we clung onto a late youth favorite song ...
... and got underway.
I did manage to get to the top, but had to climb back down to get mrs non-fixie and her bike. And take this picture.
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#10
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My favorite might have been my first tour - 18 years old, riding down the California coast all the way to San Diego just before starting college. I believe I did the entire trip on $40. Of course, you got change back from your dollar at McDonalds back then...Of course it wasn't C&V back then, it was just a tour on a bike.
But more recently I'd say it was the Magical Mystery Tour of the PNW.
Not everyone in this picture did the full tour, but that was part of the great memories - most days we had additional riders, call 'em harbor pilots, groupies, whatever.
But more recently I'd say it was the Magical Mystery Tour of the PNW.
Not everyone in this picture did the full tour, but that was part of the great memories - most days we had additional riders, call 'em harbor pilots, groupies, whatever.
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