Being at the NAHBS is comparable to ingesting too many psychedelics at once, it is sensory overload, there is simply too much for the brain to absorb. It takes time before the body regains its equilibrium and the mind is able to make sense of the world around it. At least that's how I felt. I was bouncing around like a pinball from one booth to the next unable to draw a line of reference. The bad things were easy to spot. There were a surprising number of bikes set up with awful fenderlines, as well as a few overweight sales reps who had a hard time speaking from experience. But the good was harder to see. I think instinctively people are attracted to things that glimmer and shine, so, there were a lot of things that glimmered and shined. Richard Sachs combated this phenomenon by displaying two mud covered Cycle Cross bikes - a nice touch I thought. I tried to take pictures with my 35mm camera but there wasn't enough light. ISO 160 wasn't going to get it done. Camera one scrapped.
I slowly made my way through the show both blown away and underwhelmed. I know that's a contradiction and hard to understand, but despite all the beautiful machines I had a feeling of emptiness, like all these great bikes were lacking something. I didn't quiet know what that 'something' was, I just knew that it wasn't there. As I was thinking this I turned a corner and spotted the Strawberry.
It's no secret that I'm attracted to objects from the past, objects that possess beauty that can surpass the instant gratification of 'shiny' by trumping it with history, quality, and craftsmanship. The Strawberry had these attributes in spades. It stood out of the crowed like a french curve stands out in a drawer full of straight edges. The bike had soul, and plenty of it. And I loved it.
I think Bryant noticed me first, he came over and we chatted some about the stunning beauty of the lugs. He told me that the bike, along with the two others in the booth, was made by Mark Dinucci, a Portland builder. The longer I looked at that bike the more I felt like I had found the SS Central America, a hidden treasure lost amongst the many wonders of the sea. I just couldn't believe how well made the bike was. Eventually Mark came over and we made introductions. I don't know how it is, but once in a while you meet a person and you feel like you've known them a lifetime. That's how I felt meeting Mark. Talking to him was like talking to an old friend, he was genuine, gracious, and above all sincerely appreciative of my many complements of his bikes. I stayed in that booth for a good while and felt like I could of stayed there a good while more.
Of course, as I later discovered, Mark Dinucci is one of the most revered builders in the world and Bryant Bainbrige just happens to be the Spokesniffer of flickr fame as well as long time Specialized top dog (one of them anyway). Two guys not entirely without acclaim or recognition - and most definitively not hidden treasures. Credentials aside, I have nothing but praise for both Mark and Bryant, and I couldn't be happier that I had a chance to meet them.
The following pictures are of the Strawberry. I tried to capture as much of the beauty of the lug work, the dropouts, and various other details of the bike that I could - I didn't get everything. I'm sure other pictures of the bike exist and I'm certain that they are well worth searching out.
I hope you enjoy this bike as much as I did.
1 comment:
Thanks so much for taking the time to visit Marks' booth and more importantly, for staying long enough to uncover the detail that is not apparent on first glance. One thing that sets Mark apart from nearly all the rest is his completeness. Having spent a career designing & engineering frames for big companies, Mark's work does not stop with brazing the frame and filing the lugs. In the case of the red bike, he designed the lugs, bottom bracket shell, dropouts and tubeset. Only the fork crown came from another hand and that one was named Masi.
Thanks again!
-Bryant Bainbridge
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