From November, 1999 through September, 2001, I lived in the Koiwa, a small community located in the Edogawa Ward of Tokyo. My only bicycle at the time was a Trek mountain bike (820?) that I brought over from California with me. It was great for exploring the local neighborhood, and some off-road cycling - primarily long the Edogawa River - but I really longed for a good road bike. When I lived in Japan during the 1980's I had a Panasonic export model road bike (XL-2000?), and managed to do some serious exploring and day trips with it. Still, it seemed impossible to find a Japanese bike shop that had anything close to fitting me.
Then one Saturday afternoon I happened to be riding my bike along one of the local bike paths, and turned on a main street to try and find my way back home. The traffic became very congested near a popular shopping street, so I briefly took to the sidewalk to get past the traffic jam (it's actually legal here in Japan - pedestrians and bicycles share the sidewalks all the time.) I noticed a fairly unique looking bicycle shop, and decided to stop and take a look around.
It turned out to be very, very lucky for me, though I didn't realize it at the time. The shop owner/operator, Kiyo Miyazawa, was quite friendly. Later I found out that from 1975 to 1982 Kiyo lived in Italy studying bicycle making from the Italian craftsmen. He returned to Japan, and in August, 1982, opened his own bicycle shop. Really, to call it a 'shop' is a misnomer. Kiyo is a real, dyed-in-the-wool, bicycle craftsman. Of course, his shop will sell you a stock bicycle if that's what you really want, and like all bicycle shops, they will repair your bike and patch your tires.
But Kiyo's real claim to fame is his unique talent at designing and crafting a bicycle that will fit you like a glove. In fact, in his own words (in Japanese) on his home page, Kiyo explains his basic philosophy of bicycle design, and it reads exactly like the philosophy of a fine tailor. In addition to running his own business, Kiyo is also the sponsor and primary trainer/coach for two cycling teams.
During my first visit to his shop, Kiyo and I chatted very briefly, but somehow I knew I would come back to his shop. For a couple of months, I would drop in whenever I was in the neighborhood just to see what was going on. Even if Kiyo was absent, his mother and father (a former competitive bicycle racer himself) would offer me a cup of coffee and chat for a while. Then I finally got up my nerve and broached the subject of having a custom frame made. At first Kiyo was a little skeptical. Given the fact that I'm close to 2 meters tall (6'7"), and - let's face it, overweight - I could totally understand his concerns. I know that he also had some concern that I would choke at the price. As it turns out the final price we negotiated was very reasonable, a little less than I would have paid to have a similar custom bicycle made in California.
In the end, the single biggest problem was locating the frame tubing. It would have been easy in the U.S., but the Japanese domestic suppliers don't offer the same range of stock since there is almost no demand for it here. Thankfully, Kiyo is a very creative individual, and realized that the stock used for tandem bicycles was a perfect fit. We worked out all the details, and Kiyo set to work to do his magic.
Kiyo in his workshop getting ready to show me the custom frame for the first time.
Fitting the wheels so that I get a better idea of what it will be like when it's finished.
Installing the forks.
It's really starting to look like a bicycle!
Actually, it was starting to look like a very, very big bicycle. You can't really tell from this photo, but sitting next to other bicycles on the street it makes them look like midgets. The geometry is perfect for me, but almost impossible for other, shorter people to ride. It makes it less likely that the bike will be stolen by kids on the street, but it also makes it difficult for bicycle mechanics to test ride after they do any repair on it for me.
To personalize the custom frame a bit, Kiyo always imprints the buyer's initials. In my case I asked him to imprint my first name, "LEM", rather than my full initials. It's definitely my bike!
Look at that great smile on Kiyo's face. He really takes a lot of pride in his work, and his customers definitely appreciate it. I know I do. My smile was just as big as his the evening he unveiled my new frame for the first time.
How did the bike ride? Fantastic! It was the first bike I've ever had custom made, so it was the first bike that ever really fit me. It was a pleasure to ride - effortless. I loved riding it. The amazing thing was how exceptionally quiet it was. Every other bicycle I've owned made noise. Not much noise, but you could definitely hear the chain noise, or the spoke noise. That bike was totally quiet - not even a whisper. Unbelievable. I rode that bicycle almost every weekend for almost a year. During the Spring and early Summer weekdays, I would frequently get up eary during the week and put in an hour or more cycling before I had to come back, shower, and get ready to take the train to the office.
Then, early one Saturday morning, I was out cycling and entered an intersection. I thought I was being careful, and had looked both ways, but somehow I missed noticing a young woman rushing to work on her motorbike. Apparently she didn't see me either. I tried to brake and swerve my bike to go behind her. She put on her brakes to stop. The net result was that my front wheel got caught in her rear bumper. A fraction of a second later both of us were sprawled on the pavement in the middle of the street. One of the local residents was kind enough to call an ambulance that took both of us to the hospital. As they were putting me into the ambulance I asked about my bicycle. I knew that it had sustained some significant damage - bent front wheel and twisted forks - but I was hoping the frame was okay. They told me that the shop owner at the intersection would take care of it, and that I shouldn't worry.... That should have been a red flag to me, but I wasn't in any shape to argue.
I ended up with a broken collarbone, broken ribs, and several smashed bones in my right hand. They operated, drilled holes in the bones, and inserted wires to rebuild the hand. It took a while, and some dedicated physical therapy, but my hand recovered completely and is "just as good as new", as they say. The collarbone didn't knit together. For some reason it decided to form a psuedo joint instead. The doctor told me that this happens in about 10% of the cases, and shouldn't be a problem unless I suddenly decide to become a dockworker. The woman on the motorbike ended up with some bruises, but was lucky enough to walk out of the hospital by herself later the same morning.
When my wife went to check on the bicycle the next day, it had disappeared from the face of the earth. The shopkeeper said that it had been placed up against the side of his building, but no one had told him to take care of it. No one else in the neighborhood knew anything about it, and the police also claimed total ignorance. I suspect given the obvious damage that everyone just assumed it was junk and that someone carted it off to the neighborhood recycler.
At first we waited to see how the insurance settlement would work out. It took a long time, and could be the subject of another lenghty off-topic post - but I'll save that for someother time. Finally it was clear that the insurance would cover most of the bicycle replacement costs. So, back to Kiyo's shop! More discussion, planning, and negotiation. A few months later I cycled out of Kiyo's shop with my second custom road bike. By that time we had moved out to Chiba, so my first ride on the new bike turned out to be over 20 km in Saturday afternoon traffic.
Would I do it again? By that I mean, would I go to all the time, effort and expense of having a custom bicycle made - not the accident/hospital part. My simple answer is yes - no question. It was definitely worth it. I really enjoy having a bicycle that fits well and responds naturally to me.
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