Richard Sachs Cycles

[Mark Walberg]

It's a visual language, not spoken. I understand it. But never hear it. I know it when I see it.

A file in the maker's hand is communication. The tool and the surface it's rubbing up against.

To rearrange metal or to blend it seamlessly is a quiet yet deliberate chat held daily at my bench.

I’m an eavesdropper listening to a conversation about strokes and shapes and file marks.

There’s a perfect amount of effort. It’s controlled and unscripted simultaneously. Like jazz.

Look closely. Every scratch tells a story. But only one scratch tells you the story just ended.

All This By Hand

I'm happy to say that I get it.

[e-RICHIE]

There's a balancing act of chaos when I stand at the bench to make a bicycle frame. The part I love the most is the part after the very beginning. When the pipes are mitered and I'm sure all the interference fits meet a standard. That's when the torch is lit for the first time. Little pieces of metal balancing on round tubes. Each has a function and an exact place to be. The tactile senses are heightened when the smell of an oxyacetylene flame dances on a pile of surrendering paste flux. But when the business end of the brazing rod I'm holding begins its travel under and ever-so-slightly around every joint - that's when I become overloaded. The scent of heat and the mastery necessary to shepherd molten filler into places only I command it to go. Nothing after this is better.

All This By Hand

[e-RICHIE]

There's a little known side of me that involves tears. The kind that flow from eyes. I cry easily. Ya know - like at the end of the Jerry Lewis Labor Day Telethons. I cried for most of the film, Miracle. I've seen it often. I even watched the game live in 1980. And cried. In American Beauty when Ricky Fitts narrates as a paper bag falls prey to the breeze. Whoa. And at the end of Friday Night Lights when a Hail Mary pass is thrown and the ball lingers, and lingers, and then comes down months later, in a stadium where a completely different team practices. Maybe it’s just me, but my ducts well up no matter how many times I see that.

I also tear up when I see a rider conquer a magnificent course and ride in solo to a finish line filled with thousands of fans, the streets lined with bunting and advertising banners and all sorts of celebratory shit. To separate himself from all the others with numbers pinned on, using guile and cunning, and hopefully rim brakes and a mechanical group. From Campagnolo. I love a good drama played out. I'm a drama queen. And I cry almost but not quite on cue. And I always thought, I always knew, that if I ever even got close to winning a big one that I wouldn’t be able to contain myself. To be continued. Maybe.

All This By Hand

[e-RICHIE]

Bicycle racing is an old sport. It's a pre-war sport. It's a pre-motorsports sport. It's a pre-televised sports sport. It's a workingman's sport. Think boxing. A game run by old and retired former racers whose male-dominated and closed backroom culture have been in the DNA since forever. It's a bit charming from a distance. But when I put my on enlightenment lenses and look at the big picture, my sport just seems so dated, so icky, so corrupt.

It's so beautiful to watch. It’s so difficult to ponder. It’s been my muse since I first learned about these hard men in Europe whose stories dominate a history that's so rich. It's European rich as opposed to rich with lore that includes my own countrymen and in my own country. There’s something so old-school and colorful about the lot which may explain why bicycle racing speaks to me. Often, I listen. At times I ignore. The sport makes a sound that can’t be unheard.

All This By Hand


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[e-RICHIE]

I’m giving down. That’s a term I use when I change my mind. It happens rarely. But when it does, I own it.

The Richie-Issimo 2.0 fork topper was conceived in 2009. It became a reality some time in 2013. I loved it.

After a season or three the bloom was off the rose. Was I reaching? Too many competing design elements?

I shelved the part. Picked up the pieces. Went back to using the 1.0. Until a month ago. Then I had a rethink.

I gave up on the 2.0. I never knew why. The shapes called to me one night. We talked it out. We’re a thing again.

All This By Hand

[e-RICHIE]

All of it revolves around elegance. You want the lugs thinned a bit. Eliminate high and low spots. Make sure the flow is complete from top to bottom from side to side from front to back and that the same intention spreads to each lug so the job is the sum rather than the parts.

All This By Hand

[e-RICHIE]

To a pile of tube and lugs, this is what content looks like. No hyperbole. No self-adoration. Or links to other links with links.

Real content has meaning. Just enough to fill the empty spaces. And not a word or a phrase extra. And certainly no hashtags.

All This By Hand



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