A Return to Elegance

Walter Isaacson’s “Leonardo da Vinci” is the latest in his series of biographies on historic figures who harnessed the powers of art and science for creation. Steve Jobs, Albert Einstein and Benjamin Franklin all fell under this category for the author. His books are superb reads. Leonardo, in particular, fascinates me with his beautifully rendered machines interacting with – also beautiful - human figures. One learns that many of Leonardo’s creations were in fact designed for the astoundingly complex theatrical spectacles that the ruling Sforza family held in 15th century Milan to entertain the public. Leonardo loved showbiz.

I feel that it’s not a stretch to say that Italian bicycle frame builders, with Masi, Colnago, De Rosa, Marnati* and Pinarello being the most prominent, are imbued with the spirit of Leonardo. Their beautiful creations, which were so completely different and artistic compared with machines from the north of Europe, were also scientific marvels, matching elegant human movement with perfect mechanical efficiency. An example of their approach can be found in the story of Jacques Anquetil’s 1956 Hour Record attempt on the Vigorelli velodrome in Milan. The “Hour” is one of the most brutal undertakings in all of sport, basically a solo rider, on a velodrome, riding as many kilometers as they can in one hour. 

Anquetil was attempting to beat Fausto Coppi’s Hour Record (Coppi is still considered the greatest Italian racer in history and represented Italy’s climb back out of the devastation of WWII). Anquetil’s first attempt failed to the raucous cheers of the partisan crowd. Alberto Masi, who had a shop under the banking’s of the track in the great cycling tradition, watched Anquetil’s failure, analyzed what was wrong with his position on the heavy French bicycle and went to work. Three days later, on a light, resilient and anatomically correct Masi machine, Anquetil silenced the crowd, taking the record away from Italy, establishing Masi as the go-to “telaista” for the top racers in the world. Eddy Merckx won his first World Professional Road Championship in 1967 on a Masi machine, one that was barely disguised as a Peugeot, and, like Anquetil, with a new, Italian position that was far different than what he’d had before. 

Masi’s successes turned him into a boutique brand and the pros had to move on to builders such as Colnago, De Rosa and Pinarello, brands that had become successful enough to stand on their own. Which brings me to Pinarello. Full disclosure: I’ve had three Pina’s in my life: one I worked off from Cycles Vifian in Geneva, (Bernard, former Swiss Pro Road Champ, had a shop and kindly – and patiently - let me work there when I was amateur), a second I bought from Strictly Bicycles, the excellent pro shop in Fort Lee, NJ, and my current F10 which I purchased in Italy last year. 

Pinarello has had an incredible run of not only successful, but beautifully elegant racers on their bicycles, man-machine creations that Leonardo would have certainly approved of. Giovanni Battaglin, the 1981 Giro winner is one of the most perfect racers I’ve ever seen. From there the list goes on: Miguel Indurain, the metronomic five-time Tour winner, Jan Ulrich, Lance Armstrong’s tortured rival, Mario Cipollini, the great sprinter, Alejandro Valverde the ageless wonder, and, again for me, the most perfect and technically complete racer since Eddy Merckx, Sir Bradley Wiggins. Wiggins, like Merckx, was capable of winning on the tiny 165- meter indoor velodromes (10-laps to a mile, an outdoor running track is four-laps per mile to give a perspective), and on larger, Olympic velodromes in Pursuit events, not to mention his Hour Record (since beaten) and the three-week Tour de France. Wiggins has spoken of his never-ending search to find the perfect position, the most efficient pedal stroke: the approach of a true artist. 

Give that 30+ year run of cycling perfection, I can’t imagine the Pinarello family’s reaction when they first saw Chris Froome and realized that this awkward being was to become their standard bearer. The family crisis that must have ensued when they spotted those weird, oval chainrings, the down-pointing saddle, the out-pointing elbows, everything all higgledy-piggledy and shaking every which way. Geraint Thomas, with his saddle seemingly – and please accept my apology for this rudeness – plugged into his arse so forward does he sit on his bike, isn’t that much better. It’s no mistake that one has rarely or never seen profile riding photos of either of them in Pinarello publicity. 

Enter Egan Bernal: the return to elegance. The Colombian is a bicycle maker’s dream. His Pinarello looks straight off of the company homepage, an example of how beautiful a bicycle can be. No zero-setback post for him! High and back in the saddle, the 13cm stem long and low, Bernal’s machine is a creative director’s dream – no bike has ever looked better and no one has looked better poised on a bicycle. He’s not the perfect peddler in the style of Wiggins or Indurain: Bernal is somewhat Merckx-like when under pressure, throwing his body into the stroke. But it’s still beautiful and, with a vo2 max of 90 (oxygen uptake measurement, most humans are between 30 and 60…) there’s elegance under that hood. One can bet that the creatives at Pinarello will have photos of him on their machine wherever they can fit them. 

You won’t see sort of football wives twitter wars that Froome’s and Wiggin’s partners engaged in during that tumultuous 2012 Tour from Bernal and Co, nor will any of the fatal tragedies that befell other hyper-talents like Marco Pantani and Frank Vandenbrouck come to rest on his doorstep. Bernal is surrounded by a familial and most protective entourage headed by the two women in his life, his mother Flor and fiancé Xiomy, and by all accounts, getting past them requires a complete vetting. A former coach is now embedded in RCN Radio Colombia, watching over Bernal in every race he enters, not to mention the Piemontese clan that adopted him when he first came to Italy, all centered around the Buasca restaurant in San Colombano. They refer to him as the most polite and respectful person possible and are all clearly devoted to him and his successes, a devotion he returns. On the eve of his win in Paris this year, Ineos held a reception for the sponsors and swells attached to the team. His Busaca fan club, all dressed in cycling jerseys came in, and were promptly shuttled to the back of the room. Bernal came in, saw the situation, ignored his place at the head table, and went and sat in the back on the floor with his Italian family for the evening. That’s elegance in my book, elegance of the very best kind. 

After reading Isaacson’s book, and thinking about all of this, I’m convinced that Leonardo would have been a cycling fan. The majesty of racing over mountain passes with the backdrop of nature as the stadium, the miracle of the efficiency of the peloton, the incredible performance of modern bicycles informed by aerodynamic studies, all of this would have appealed to his creative, artistic and scientific soul. I also think he’d like what Pinarello has done over the decades in matching human perfection with their machines. With their prize pony Egan Bernal, the combination of art and science have returned to dominate the peloton.

*Marnati remained a tiny shop, building frames for pros under different paint jobs. Benotto's for Moser, Flandria's for Maertens, all sorts. The son still builds.