I didn't get it built up in time for winter, and besides, it looked like too nice a ride to just use as a winter beater ... so we decided we'd build it up as a fast tourer. He had some nice Aksium wheels that would be just the thing -- light and solid, just like the frame. We stuck 'em on. A carbon seatpost with a little grey-and-white chevron pattern topped things off.
We began to plan for a nice black-and-silver palette. BW threw on a purple brake caliper and some drops. A little while later, some sweet bar tape and another purple caliper appeared.
Then something happened. I believe it occurred at the confluence of the bar tape and the front brake caliper. The black wheels definitely didn't help. Suddenly, what we had intended to be a genteel touring bike started looking more like a mean, lean speed machine.
We vetoed the barcons and brifters sprung up in their place. We adjusted them for a more aggressive position. Soon there were brake cables in sleek black housing and a racy little saddle that picks up the bike's grey and white accents.
Suddenly, I started saying things like, "Yeah, I think this might be my race machine next year." Even though I'm not actually at all certain I'll be road racing next year, and I am almost sure I won't be this year (never say never; you will always be forced to eat your words -- at least, if you're me). Even though I think I'd better put some serious work in if I'm actually going to race, ever, at all.
What have we done?
This is what happens when bike geeks and nice components get together. Sometimes, things just get away from you.
Let this be a lesson. The bike leads the way. You may think you have a nice little touring bike, but if the bike has other plans, there's no stopping it. Like cats, bikes don't have owners. They have staff. We're just here to help them bring their nefarious plans to fruition.
We must remember this. The cog turns, and we're powerless against its mighty will.
Resistance is futile.