I started riding seriously 15 years ago after wrecking my knees and hips running.  My first bike was a Cannondale that I crashed and ruined a year later.  Some years and a couple of steel bikes later came a Merlin Road, frame #88, acquired in 1992.  Not a princess on the pea, I honestly couldn't tell much difference among all these bikes.  They rode fine and fit me pretty well.  After about six years on the Merlin I decided that the bike had no soul and sold it.  In my quest for a bike with soul I turned to a lugged steel DeRosa Nuovo Classico next.  This awkwardly-named but sweet-handling frame was my main ride for two years when I, then aged 39, decided to make myself an ultimate present for my 40th birthday -- a Richard Sachs frame.

Through the late 1980s and most of the 1990s I had been vaguely aware of Richard Sachs, the seemingly mythical frame builder in Connecticut who hand built a few frames a year, frames that invariably garnered the highest of plaudits in ride reviews in glossy bike magazines.  Because these reviews came out infrequently, unlike a flood of advertising candy one sees about the latest and the greatest must-haves of the season, they did not tend to make a lasting impression on a man with a short attention span.  Until last year I never considered myself to be a potential Richard Sachs customer.  It seemed that there were plenty of other perfectly wonderful bikes and frames out there.  Unlike many cyclists on the Riders page I did not have a lifelong conviction that I must own a Richard Sachs bicycle.  Indeed, I'd seen only one Richard Sachs bike.  Although gorgeous, that bike did not make me lust for a Sachs.  So, what changed my mind?

During an aimless web search in the Fall of 2001, I stumbled on Richard's web site.  There, in one place were all the articles I'd read over the previous decade.  There, in one place were testimonials from men and women who've owned and ridden Sachses for years and years.  And though somewhat skeptical of the testimonials—I did not expect Richard to post testimonials of riders unhappy with their Sachs bikes, if there were any out there—I was impressed with the unanimous devotion of the riders to their bikes and to Richard.  So I decided to investigate further.  I contacted as many Sachs owners as I could and spoke with them about their their bikes.  I learned that many of them own more than one Sachs and plan to acquire yet additional Sachses.

Duly impressed, I decided to call Richard to talk to him about ordering a frame.  I was nervous, feeling as if was calling up a celebrity.  To my relief Richard immediately put me at ease.  He is an incredibly easy going and, once you get to know him a little, a very funny guy.  I settled on getting a Signature frame, sent Richard some measurements, asked for delivery in time for my birthday and settled in for a wait.  Then, in late January, a newsflash: while out on a ride Richard was hit by a car and broke his leg; no framebuilding for at least six weeks.  Of course, the first concern was for Richard's well-being.  Second, to quote humorist Al Franken was "how does it affect me, Al Franken?"  Fortunately, my deadline of mid-June was far enough that the layoff would not affect the scheduled delivery.  Phew!

In March I visited Richard for additional measurements and to see with my own eyes the framebuilder and his shop.  What I found was a museum devoted to lugged steel framebuilding and vintage Campagnolo.  More importantly, I met a man with fanatical attention to detail and passion for his craft.  A man in whom I was completely confident in entrusting a task of building my 40th birthday present.

Weeks passed; then months.  June approached.  During our phone conversations Richard joked about having the frame ready for delivery in August.  I laughed... uneasily.  As delivery date neared wating became more and more difficult.  I made nearly daily visits to Richard's web page for my Sachs fix and eagerly checked e-mail for updates on delivery.  The first three weeks of June were interminable.

At long last the frame arrived.  On time, of course.  Painted by JB in Richard Sachs red.  No picture of a red Sachs bike remotely compares to seeing the color in person.  I intended to get the bike painted in Cal Bears blue and gold, but after I saw red bikes in Richard's shop I switched to red and am so glad I did.  (You know it's a beautiful color if it makes a Cal grad switch to Stanford red & white.) It's a red that makes fire engines jealous.  But you should get a Sachs in any color you want... as long as it's red. 

I built it up with Campagnolo Record-10.  At first I was a bit nervous about riding the bike.  I've heard about people collecting Sachses -- building them up and never riding them.  My friends joked about it being too pretty to ride.  I also worried, thinking what if this bike rides the same as others I've owned.  If that were the case how do I justify to myself getting the Sachs?

I needn't have worried.  When I got on the bike and turned the pedals I instantly wanted to ride the shit out of the bike.  And so I did and do. And riding the shit out of it is so much fun that I have a very difficult time holding back on easy days.  I've put about 500 miles on the bike and it rides like nothing I'd ridden before.  It is a rocket.  At times if feels like a motorcycle when you turn the throttle too much—the bike seems to leap forward under you.  I now understand what magazine bike reviewers mean by "all energy goes to propelling the bike forward" or some such language.

The bike is so astonishingly stable that it feels as if I could climb no-hands and it'd still go forward straight as an arrow as if I had my hands on the bars.  Yet, descending and cornering feels incredibly precise, like carving corners with a scalpel.  he bike dives into turns before I point it there as if it knows where I want it to go.  Truly an amazing combination.  I seem to be riding about a mile an hour faster on it.  At first I was not sure if was the adrenalin from riding a new bike or if it's the Sachs.  Now, I am pretty confident that it's the bike since (most of) the new-bike-adrenalin-rush has worn off.

After a recent ride I stopped at a coffee shop and a customer asked me if this was the kind of bike used in the Tour de France.  I, absolutely sincerely replied, "better."  My buddies added, "Tour riders want this bike."  So, with all apologies to Lance Armstong, if you have a Richard Sachs, IT IS ABOUT THE BIKE.