I first saw a Richard Sachs bicycle at a race I was doing in the early 1980s in Pennsylvania.  I remember thinking 'Wow, pretty bike!'  A few years later as a married graduate student I put a lot of effort into teaching myself how to make some nice walnut furniture that we would keep forever, but wouldn't cost us much.  Ever since I have had a great appreciation for beautiful, handmade, but practical, objects. 

Around the same time, I saw another Richard Sachs at a race I did in North Carolina.  Once again, it was gorgeous but I knew then that when finances permitted, this was the bike I would get. 

I happily rode an SP-tubed six-speed from 1984 until 1999 as my riding decreased and work and family increased.  During that period, I would read articles about Richard that deepened my resolve to have him build me something one day.  There are a lot of great bikes out there, but I was drawn to the 'one man building something with his hands very well' concept that I could relate to from my amateur woodworking.

I started riding again in earnest (about 6,000 km/year) with a recreational group in 1998 and found out how much I had missed riding in the preceding several years.  My wife of 16 years knew how much I was enjoying riding again, and I knew she would go along with my decision to get a Richards Sachs; besides it was cheaper and is lots more fun than a mistress for my mid-life crisis. I called Richard up to make an appointment for a fitting in January 1999.  Thanks to discount airlines, for $150 I took a day off from work, flew up from Atlanta, rented a car, and met Richard at his shop. 

Since I had wanted one of his bikes for such a long time and had read all I could find about him over the years, I expected to spend 20-30 minutes with him getting fitted and leaving a deposit.  Much to my surprise and delight, he spent nearly two hours showing me the shop and explaining his thought processes and techniques as he builds a frame.  When we were done, he took my measurements and I was on my way.

Although I have a technical background and knew about different tubing specifications and the effects of various angles on bike handling, I knew going in that I would let Richard 'create' the right bike—not that you have much choice in that, anyway.  My pearl white frame with candy apple red panels arrived in Atlanta in June, as expected.  I built it up with 1999 Campagnolo Record components (53x42,13-23), the old Turbo saddle from my previous bike and a set of Special Pavé tubular tires from Vittoria on Mavic Reflex rims. 

I had been a cyclist for 20 years and thought that I had found the best position on my bike through experience.  I knew my previous bike was a little short along the top tube and stem and that it turned too quickly—I didn't dare ride no-hands!  I was amazed from the second ride on the Sachs at how much, much more comfortable I am—the first ride was just so very different from what I had been used to it was hard to make any judgments.

The Sachs turns more accurately—I look at the line I want to take and it goes there—and is easy to ride no hands.  Richard's racing and building experience in knowing what the right set up truly is for someone has been a greater benefit and joy than in knowing I have a rather unique, beautiful, and well made bicycle.

I like the bike so much that I am in a conundrum over the fact that I could probably afford to get a second one, but why should I?  I see no reason why I won't be riding this bike for 20+ years except for selfish reasons; and I sincerely hope that Richard is still building then.

My wife Chris is a runner, but to spend more time with me she wanted to get a better bike than the 15-year-old Nishiki clunker she had.  Around the same time I got my new Richard Sachs, I received news that someone had posted a complete early 80's Richard Sachs for sale for $400 on a bulletin board at one of the local bike shops. 

The bike had been raced for years but was in good condition and loaded with Super Record components.  Although perhaps a size or so too big for my wife, lowering the seat and shortening the stem has worked out well. We took the bikes to Belgium last summer to ride in Flanders and the Ardennes last summer—mostly on the famous climbs from the Ronde van Vlaanderen and Liège-Bastogne-Liège.  These are great places for cyclo-tourists or bad racers who like to fantasize.

Chris likes her Richard Sachs so much that we put a new Campagnolo Daytona triple group on it and more recently had Joe Bell give it a fresh 'signature' paint job.

Chris standing with frame #5975, built in 1981. We spread the rear, modified the brake bosses and put a Daytona triple on it for our July 2000 trip to Belgium. We stopped for this picture right before the right turn onto the hardest part of the Muur van Geraardsbergen (Mur du Grammont).
 

Mike is climbing (i.e. walking) the 23% section on the Koppenberg. There was a light rain and the cobbles were very slippery (Fignon had to walk it too).
 
This is the 20% section of the Patersberg. The cobbles here are in great shape (relative term) and it was mostly dry going up. Longer but not as hard as the Koppenberg. Shorter but harder than the Muur de Geraardsbergen (aka the Mur de Grammont).