My bicycle's mysterious origin -- POSTSCRIPT

Earlier, I dropped a few teasers about the origin of my bicycle, and this seems a good place to answer visitor's questions about my maroon 1980 Centurion Pro-Tour.

I've enjoyed automobiles as long as I've enjoyed bicycles, but bicycles are often less well-documented than cars, sometimes making it more difficult to know what an original was "supposed" to be like. Most of the brochures I have are undated, lacking even a copyright notice. Only one of my bicycles exactly matches the specifications in the sales brochure. The sales literature for some of my other bicycles didn't publish the specific frame dimensions at all. With this bicycle, the brochures carefully listed every measurement, right down to the millimeter -- and of course, none of them match my bike!

As nearly as I can tell, this particular example was indeed made to my measurements, and was not a regular model in the Centurion line. In fact, there was no Centurion Bicycle Works as such in 1980. By that, I mean there was not a Centurion factory in the same sense there was a Fuji, Bridgestone or Miyata (Toyoda) factory. Instead, the Centurion name was a registered trademark of (first) Wil-Go Imports and (later, by the time I bought this bicycle), Western States Import Co., Inc., of Canoga Park, CA. Actual construction was done by a variety of Japanese contractors to their specs. I have reason to believe my later 1983/4 transition model Pro Tour 15 was made entirely by Tange under contract to Western States. It sure looks like it came from the Tange contract-building catalog (_The Tange Frame System_) I got from Nova Cycle Supply about that time. A company's frame designer could order a complete line of bicycles, designating such details as fork crown design, seatstay caps and lug design just by checking the appropriate box. That doesn't appear to be the case with this ~1980 model.

As an aside, Western States added the Diamond Back name to their line when mountain bikes were first introduced. Previously, that brand was used only for BMX bikes. Centurion continued as a brand through the early years of triathlon competitions, when the Dave Scott signature Ironman model was the top o' their Tri line. In time, road bikes declined in popularity and the name was abandoned in favor of Diamond Back, which continues to this day.

I think my maroon bicycle was made under the authority of the parts and service division of H. Tano and Co., Ltd. in Fukiaiku, Kobe, Japan. They were the warranty contact listed in the owner's manual, and an extensive search of bicycle trade journals of the era revealed this company also produced unusually compact forged vertical dropouts for SunTour; the same dropouts are used on this bicycle. It seems a plausible connection. At least, no other USA-imported bicycle of the era had them.

I became interested in the brand after _Bicycling_ magazine tested a 1976 model Centurion Pro Tour and Collins Cycle Shop here in Eugene had a couple of those models as NOS at the time (they came in two colors: Robin's egg blue, or a Molteni metallic burnt orange. The letters were individual foil stickers). The magazine also published the diary of John Rakowski's round-the-world tour. In it, he said Centurions were highly prized in India and Pakistan, which impressed me. The same issue with the Centurion also had a story about CTC member and world tourist Ian Hibell. Of course, I was caught up in the romance and adventure of it all. Just think! With a Centurion I could go 'round the world! And-- and-- and of course "Pro-Tour" implied that one might get paid to do so professionally, selling articles and photographs of exotic locales to the magazines, doing lecture tours, perhaps even appearing in _National Geographic_! With a bike like that, anything would be possible.

Tom Muir's 25th Street Cyclery in Eugene was the local Centurion dealership, and he generously supplied me with brochures showing the "new" but undated model that appeared in the company's brochures in the Fall of 1979 and again in the Fall of 1980. I was smitten and simply _had_ to have the bicycle, but none were actually available to dealers. After placing several calls to Western States, Tom told me the Pro-Tour did not exist except in the brochure and perhaps as a sample model shown at bicycle trade shows. He was told it was too expensive to produce the bicycle as shown, and Western States didn't think many would sell at the price they would have to ask -- more than $500. Tom figured he would have to sell the bike for $650 in order to make any profit on it after shipping and assembly costs.

I still have my notes and I see I called Western States myself, and a representative explained they could only sell through authorized dealers and suggested I try to place an order through one of them, "Though I don't think you'll have any luck, because the bike is really too expensive to sell very well, so the company is holding on it." My Dad and I closeted ourselves in the local telephone company office and went through every single yellow pages entry for Centurion dealers on the West Coast.

I made a number of calls and came up empty each time. Finally, I contacted the Corvallis, Oregon Bike and Hike Center, and was assured one could be ordered, somehow. Store manager Kevin Chudy said he was on good terms with the company representative, and thought he could find one for me. This was in early October of 1979, and at that time, Kevin carefully took my measurements and spent a considerable amount of time asking about the kind of bicycle I wanted and how I planned to use it.

Using the brochure I got from Tom as a model, we spent a couple hours getting my ideas down on paper, along with my measurements.

I wanted a bicycle in the true randonneur tradition. It had to be light, very fast, and tightly coupled in the rear to aid climbing on fire trails and steep slopes. I insisted on having no toe clip overlap even with fenders, since I frequently did trackstands and picked my way up hills on poor roads (I 'd already had some bad falls on a bike with overlap). I wanted box-section rims and a triple crank, both a bit exotic on mass-market touring bikes sold in America at the time. I wanted a bicycle that I could take on mountainous centuries, yet would hold up to carrying massive, 80-lb. touring loads for extended backroad adventures. It needed threaded dropout mounts for racks and fenders and braze-ons for a waterbottle, but I wanted clamps for the cable housings to prevent water entry and allow easy replacement with oversized motorcycle or moped parts if needed. At the time, most US-market touring bikes had 27" wheels for easy tire replacement at rural hardware and auto-supply stores in the US. I wanted the option to use 700C wheels, so the brakes needed to allow an additional 4mm of reach adjustment. I wanted to be able to use fat tires _with_ fenders. Vertical dropouts would ease wheel removal and replacement without removing panniers. I mentioned it would sure be nice if the frame was fully-chromed beneath the paint to prevent rust. Kevin noted it all.

On February 28 of 1980, I got a call from Kevin saying the bike was indeed a possibility "As long as you don't need two, because there can be only one, and it took a lot of wrangling. It is being made in Japan, but I have to have your deposit in-hand before they will ship. Come now or it won't happen." And so I did, racing to the shop over 40 miles away. The receipt said, "Down payment on 23-1/2 in to meas Centurion Pro-Tour Maroon 15 spd. from Denver."

Waiting was agony, as days went by and no bicycle appeared. I pinned the open brochure to the bookcase at the foot of my bed so I could see it first thing in the morning and to help my dreams at night. Kevin was able to track the package somehow, and advised me it was part of a shipment to R.H. Brown and Co. a Seattle-based wholesaler of bicycle parts. The shipment with the bike was offloaded at San Francisco, then went to Seattle where it remained for some time. At one point, it appeared to be in Utah, but I didn't care so long as it was coming; I was ecstatic when I got a call on March 20 saying it had arrived and was ready to pick up.

When I first saw it, my mind and heart were full of emotion. I couldn't believe the bike was actually real after so many months of looking at the picture in the brochure. I took it for a test ride, and it was wonderful! I'm sure my adrenaline was pumping harder than my legs, but the bike simply flew and was everything I had asked for -- the better for being real!

The brochure I had gave the exact measurements for each of the bicycles, much as later Bridgestone catalogs did. However, my bike differed in almost every measurement and matched my requirements exactly. Even though the chainstays are a tight 16.9", my heels still clear the rear lowrider rack and there's no toe clip overlap of the front wheel and fender. It weighed in at exactly 23.5 lbs. as-delivered, bare of any accessories.

I should mention that my Dad and Mom kindly advanced me the money for the bike, then allowed me to pay it off over time. As a working student, I didn't have the ready cash to buy it all at once. I sure do appreciate their help in making this dream come true. We've always gotten along well, and it was fun to have them as shareholders in my ridable dream.

As I paid the remainder of the bill, Kevin told me that if anything was wrong with the bike, I'd just have to keep it, since it wasn't a model that was regularly produced. I thought the comment odd at the time, but the meaning hit home when I tried to replace the rear wheel after my first flat. The rear vertical dropouts were misaligned vertically by exactly 1mm. That doesn't sound like much, but it made the rim hit one of the brake blocks unless I squeezed the brake as I tightened the quick release on the hub, just as the shop had. I didn't like the idea of the QR skewer alone supporting all my weight. Feeling a bit sick, I checked the fork and found a similar small misalignment. Remembering Kevin's admonition, I sought advice.

At the time, Bruce Gordon was building frames here in Eugene, and he suggested I ream or machine the low dropout until the wheel centered. I couldn't bear to mill through the chrome, so I shimmed the high dropout with a 1mm spacer I machined from a nickel and glued in place with JB Weld. It is still holding to this day, and cured the problem once and for all. I cold-set the fork into alignment using a a large piece of float-glass as a reference surface for my measurements. In this case, one fork end was 1.3mm forward of the other, causing the rim to cock against one brake block. The bicycle has ridden beautifully ever since and handles wonderfully in all conditions. If anything, it rides better and more comfortably with a full touring load than without -- it is almost too stiff unloaded, and that's why I wanted the option of plump tires to take the edge off the rougher roads. If the tires are a little plumper these days, well, so am I.

I should mention all the paint including the pinstripes was clear-coated. The one exception was the Centurion lettering, which was silkscreened atop the clear coat. I believed this was done so the same bicycle could be sold under different labels. My hunch proved correct as the next year's mail brought a copy of the Bikecology (now Supergo) catalog. In it, Alan Goldsmith showed a complete line of bicycles that looked identical to those in my Centurion brochure, except they were called "Niko". My Pro-Tour was sold as the Niko SuperTour15. In a later catalog, Alan Goldsmith sold a "Cinelli Centurion", with a frame made by Cinelli but carrying labels from both companies. I once saw a Niko in a bicycle rack at the U of O, and the name was also silkscreened atop the clearcoat. At first, I thought I might remove the lettering from mine. However, with time I grew to really like it. The bike has gone on many century rides, and the name reminds me of that, even if it doesn't match the strict definition of the name. For those who are wondering, a "Centurion" is a Roman officer in charge of a hundred troops. I like my definition better.

Several Shogun catalogs from the same era show bicycles with identical pinstriping and the bicycles shown being assembled in the catalog photos look very much like Centurions of the time. H. Tano in Kobe was also listed as the agent for warranty claims on the one Shogun owner's manual I have seen. Maybe there was a connection.

I used to wonder if the identical-appearing seat cluster shown in _The Custom Bicycle_ was a photo of my actual bike. Kolin and de la Rosa operated a pro shop in Seattle at the time, and were R.H. Brown customers. On further reflection, it seems unlikely. I telephoned and asked one time, but Ms. de la Rosa didn't recall the photograph. The book has a 1979 copyright, so the timing is off just a bit.

I have only seen one other Centurion Pro-Tour of the same vintage as mine, and it was a 24-1/2" inch model in pearlized silver-white with lavender and blue pinstriping. It was raining and I was late to a night class, so I wasn't able to speak with the owner. Thrown carelessly in a parking rack, the bike had been terribly abused and was almost unrecognizable; one of those things that makes a bicycle enthusiast feel sad. I never saw it again, and that was over a dozen years ago.

Summer 2000 Update: I saw an auction on eBay last month for a bicycle that appeared identical to this one, only smaller (and with original components). I'd appreciate pointers to future auctions there so I could check out the details. Don't worry, I won't bid against you! I already have this one, which is very special to me.

My 1983/4 ProTour 15 has its own story (it was made with adulterated tubing, seamed when it wasn't supposed to be). Dad has one too. It was widely distributed and the frame was produced almost unchanged for a couple years. It was much easier to trace, since it was tested by several magazines (with listed specs that matched mine) and was shown in print advertisements. 1984 was the last year for the Centurion ProTour in all its variations. An eight-year product life isn't bad...especially for a bicycle that was often unavailable in the early years of production!

If anyone has something to add to the history of my maroon bicycle, I'd love to hear about it at DrDBWood(at)WebTV.net . Of course, the components have changed over the years and with my needs and preferences. It is fun to own a bicycle that is just a little bit mysterious! More pictures and answered questions are on the next page.