I stood there, slack-jawed, while a world of great memories came rushing in. I was transported back to the late 1970’s, where I was entering the famous Pininfarina wind-tunnel, in Turin. Cino Cinelli had just sold his company to Columbus Tubing in Milan, but his parting request was that I be brought in to do the final, shake-down testing on his swan song -the Cinelli Laser. As I pushed my way through the sea of tifosi outside, and then into the sea of paparazzi, on the inside, the Pope raised his hand and began blessing this auspicious event. Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni ran over to greet me, and say how excited they were to witness such a historic occasion. They jabbered on about how Fredrico Fellini was on his way with a small camera crew, and, that the Prince of Monaco was already getting tipsy, back at the punch bowl. His Most Holiness was now addressing the mushrooming crowd with a prepared speech on “Cycling and the Sacrosanct.” A young Francesco Moser was over in the corner, huddled next to the Laser, taking copious notes (for what he would later use as a blueprint to build his hour-record bike). Somebody’s son, dressed in a devil’s costume, was running around, shouting that he was going to be the greatest Italian cyclist since Fausto Coppi...

As I began suiting-up for the tests, Sophia’s niece, Rosi, came over and offered me a double cappuccino, “To achieve warp speed,” she teased. His Eminence had now crawled up the scaffolding , and was laying high atop, above the wind-tunnel, with His personal censer suspended below, creating a laminar smoke trail for our testing. They brought over the Laser, gave it a final polish with the Shroud of Turin, and fixed it in place. Rosi gave me a surprise kiss, and I was whisked away to center stage. As I mounted the bike, a currier burst in, shouting that he had an urgent parcel for the Pope. His Holiness signaled for the Archbishop of Turin to handle it, as He was indisposed at the moment. The Archbishop opened the parcel and swooned. All attention was now focused on the downed Archbishop, when the small devil, named “Claudio,” grabbed and hoisted the box open for all to see. The box held every set of eyes in the house, and there was a soft, unanimous sigh, as the crowd was introduced to Serial #002, the papacy’s personal boxed set of Campagnolo’s 50th Anniversary bicycle parts. Finally, the Pope, Himself, broke the reverie with the rally cry, “Let’s get this party started!” As they switched on the giant fan blades, and brought them up to gale-like forces, the Laser and I were cooly tucked in the eye of the storm. I stuck up my thumb, signaling to the technicians to peg the air speed. A virtual tornado ensued, clearing everyone out from even the wind-tunnel’s protected, spectator areas. The Laser sliced through the worst Pininfarina could dish out, with total serenity... strange... There seems to be some turbulence building around my shoulder, tugging at my skinsuit...

The Dalai Lama’s hand was lightly patting me. “Take the Cinelli, it’s yours,” Mr. Lama said. “Oh Dalai, I couldn’t,” I palpitated. “But it’s yours,” he said, “It’s a gift from the Pope... Probably an act of atonement and forgiveness, I’m guessing,” said Mr. Lama. “It arrived here only yesterday, by way of Rosi, who, I believe, is waiting for us across town with three plane tickets to Rome.”

And so I said goodbye to my 18 months of internal gearing, and personal internal questioning, and headed back to the land of Tullio Campagnolo! -Euro Freddie (AKA Global Freddie).

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