Cyclopast

As you can see, there are few to no updates here.

Because I'm stopping the magazine.

I don't want to spend any more time crafting the magazine; it is long, very long: writing, editing, layering, printing, and then shipping.

More importantly, it costs me money, because printing is expensive, and shipping too, and sometimes shipping fails, so I must refund people. And honestly, I'm not running after money. So I have little to no interest in continuing to monetize my content.

Adding to the fact that I spend less and less time on META, and that French law may soon ask for ID proof to use social media, I think it was time to change platforms.

I have started a blog on Blogger. Maybe more aligned with my rhythm of creation ( small billet from time to time, on a specific subject ). Good news: the research I have already done for the now-aborted magazine will be readable on my blog.

The link will be updated later once I have filled it with a bit of content.

I'm very thankful to all the people who have supported this project. Cyclopast is not dead; it is just changing of format.

These photos are from my last three-day trip, 620 kilometers in France on the best bicycle I have ever ridden in my entire life: Cycles Alex Singer.

See you on my blog.

And thank to you again. It means a lot to me to see how you support my work and get interested by what I was writing.

To discover, or rediscover, the story of Asahi Chang that we met a few years ago.

Memorable moment in the biggest collection I have ever seen.

Asahi Chang may own more vintage bikes than anyone alive The prolific collector has enough bikes to ride a different one every day for two years – not that he would.

There's something profoundly significant about certain stages of life. There are two that I can draw parallels with today, a parallel that has probably never been made before, that might seem far-fetched, but which, today, resonates with a very real present, my reality.

Getting on a Singer bicycle for the first time is a certainty: something magical, but also addictive, that invites you into a story and transforms your vision of cycling. Having always loved building my own bikes, with Singer, I understood that a bicycle is a complete entity, the interpretation of a request, transformed into a bicycle, into a coherent whole.

Entering a psychotherapist's office for the first time is the certainty of experiencing something transformative, but also addictive, of entering the depths of oneself and disrupting the patterns that have driven us until then. Having always believed I could solve everything on my own, the accumulation of sessions has made me realize that cycling is essential for my introspection, but that this introspection is meaningless if it isn't guided by a professional and enriched by new knowledge (philosophical, sociological, or political). The goal is to cultivate a more coherent and peaceful self.

The Singer bike that Sboard lent me soothes me. I descend the five flights of stairs to the street, hop on, and after a few pedal strokes, the magic happens. I glide over the landscape, like the surfer riding a wave in the film The Endless Summer (1966). A Singer bike offers a constant feeling of receiving something new with every cadence you set. A Singer bike is a certainty: the certainty of having a pleasant moment and rediscovering sensations from yesterday, the day before, or even a few years ago. It's an unchanging bicycle, untarnished by time. There's something similar in my therapy sessions: thirty minutes like a constant, questioning like a certainty. Sessions that time cannot tarnish.

These are currently the two new elements in my life, and they are also the ones transforming my daily routine. How could I do without them? The Singer surely resonates exactly at my frequency, precisely touching my sensitive chords, and today, how could I do without it? Just like these thirty-minute sessions that now keep my body balanced like a pile of gold coins.

The parallel may seem far-fetched, but it allows us to glimpse the depth of my relationship with cycling. It's not just a sport, just a passion; it's therapy, a point of equilibrium, a keystone of my sometimes dysfunctional structure. The Singer is a tool in this practice, and it is a tool of incredible finesse and regularity, which makes each moment of introspection an ever more gentle interlude.

There is nothing to add to these incredible shots!

A lot of snow this year in the south of France.

These photos were taken the last week of January at the col de Corobin near Digne-les-Bains. The pass was closed due to a small landslide. Because the road was closed, snow was not removed, so I had to do the last kilometers by pushing my bike.

But the view was clearly worth it. Nothing beats a calm, empty road.

I had a similar experience last Monday, attempting to climb the Montagne de Lure ( 1825 m ) in MTB. I had to turn back at only 3 km from the summit. More than 30cm of snow on the road and trails made the progression impossible.

But again, it makes a memorable and epic moment and obviously beautiful pictures.

About the magazine now, I have slowed it down a lot, but still progressing. A spring release seems unlikely now. I finished two articles on the eight that I would like to offer. With Singer and Dejouannet in the same magazine, I may have sur estimate my self, as writing on these two monuments is kind of overwhelming. The good news is that I have all the documents to write about Coponet's voyage and Sablière, thanks to Matthieu. Here is a small preview:

• Coponet's voyage from France to New Zealand. ( ready to be written ).
• Marco's voyage from France to central Africa. (Half of the content in my possession only ).
• Dejouannet ( Last addition was Horseau's phone number ( his last apprentice ) 1847 words so far ).
• Sablière ( I have now everything, but it is very dense with a lot of precise information, and an important work of organizing pieces of information is needed ).
• Singer ( already 3750 words written, not much left in fact )
• Pierre Brondellon, MTB pionneer in Auvergne ( 1/2 finished, might be the next one to be completed, 1865 words so far ).
• Adrien Zammit voyage from Cunlhat to Atlas ( finished with 5044 words, just missing pictures and their legends ).
• Gogo hell cross the last one ( all done, even the layering, ready to print 2481 words ).

I don't have real excuses to progress this slowly; in fact, I'm working only 24 h per week. Most likely, I'm taking my time because this project is not a source of income there is no hurry in finishing it. I still have other volumes in stock, too, so my work is actually for a very small number of passionate people who most likely can wait another few months to have something great and precise.

The idea for the volume after this one would be to go to Japan and write an entire magazine on the Japanese scene. This will require more time and money.

A few days after our publication on François Coponet’s trip, he sent us the missing part of his journey, which contains a few pictures that he took during his trip, with a hand-drawn map of his itinerary.

I’m very excited to be able to say that I have everything to write the complete story. In the same time, I don’t see how this new volume could be ready for Spring 2026 as I’m left with so much work. I might need to skip some subjects to avoid presenting a 300-page book. Singer and Dejouannet are two monuments of our cycling history; it is hard to just write a few pages on both of these artists. Then the trip of Coponet ( two years long ) and Zammit ( 7 weeks long ) is also complex to restore to let you have the best experience of their trip. I’m also left with the giant trip from Paris to central Africa of my friend Marco. The 50-year-old dedicated to MTB cycling life of Pierre Brondello. And the portrait of Matthieu Pelardy. The gogo hell cross subject I finished and I have started to format the layout.

But who cares in fact, as this project is a pure product of my passion for cycling history and done on my free time ( when I’m not cycling ). It progresses slowly. I’m as impatient as you to make it real. This new book is going to be legendary !

Pictures taken from the documents sent by François, showing different stages of his trip from France to New Zealand.

" Once upon a time...

Once upon a time, there was a little boy of five, François, who, for Christmas, received a bicycle with training wheels. These training wheels were put away in the closet, because that very evening François was riding his bike like a grown-up, still using the sidewalk to get going for a few days afterward.

He quickly became an expert at it, causing quite a stir among the neighbors down the street who, from time to time, would say to me, "You know, François is going to have an accident sooner or later if he keeps going like that." The bicycle would be put away in the garage for a few days, a week, or even longer. François didn't complain. Once the punishment was over, he would get back on his bike, obediently, and with increasing fearlessness, until the next time he was deprived of it.

He reached the age of 13, with an ever-growing desire to go on outings far from home. But letting him go off alone worried us. An article in P.N. about the GTR came at just the right time. (Editor's note: I need to understand what P.N. and GTR mean). We got in touch.

One beautiful Sunday, François went to join the GTR for an afternoon. His beaming face that evening and his obvious contentment assured us of his future commitment to the GTR. He had caught the bug, and this was the best way to cure it.

Years passed. He infected the rest of the family.

Patrice and Dominique, fellow GTR members, decided to cycle to India. François's passion was rekindled, manifesting itself in the desire to travel far away as well.

For us, it was vague, intangible, but a few clues warned us!

Before François left for his military service, we knew for sure. We knew he would one day leave for distant lands.

Upon returning from the regiment, after a year of teaching at the Blaise Pascal high school in Rouen, the bicycle he had made himself was finally ready, the parents resigned and cooperative, and François was determined. "

This text is an extract of a long document written by François Coponet's parents during his two-year trip from France to New Zealand in 1984. This document consist in several dozen letters, sent by Coponet every two weeks to his parents along his trip. These letters, which have been retranscripted by his parents, were sent by post with photos that François Coponet should share with us later.

When I heard François speak about this trip and the archive he had, I was instantly hooked. François is an incredible person and framebuilder with almost 50 years of experience in framebuilding. He is now retired, enjoying the world and his time. I could not resist sharing with you in the next Cyclopast Magazine a few glimpses of his trip. The method chosen, as the documents are approximately a hundred pages long, is to select a dozen remarkable letters, which I will translate, annoted and illustrate with the work of another friend (as I was not able to get the pictures from François yet).

Through this article, you will be able to discover a 50-year-old trip and world and the parcours of a man who dedicated his life to his passion for cycling.

Photo sources: François Coponet's archives.

Update on the 2026 magazine volume 5: Currently, we have a definitive number of eight articles. One is finished being written. Five have been started. Two must be started ( these two articles are the biggest: François and Marco's ( from Paris to central Africa ) bicycle tour ). Currently, the 2026 edition has 16 868 words. As a comparision the 2025 edition contains 42 927 words. So we can honestly say that so far, 1/3 of the written work has been done. The article on Singer and Dejouannet is particularly long to put together, especially since I discovered Gallica BnF, and it is hard for me not dig into both subjects. This year, the magazine will include articles in French and maybe other languages in addition to the traditional English. The printing will be done by me, so I'm not expecting to do a lot of quantities, as I also realise that I'm very bad at selling and shipping ( I still have plenty of Volume 3 and 4, but I'm very lazy to ship them, postage is a pain and burden in France ). So I should print less to focus more on the core of the project: gather information and write the truth. Even if no one is asking, the project is still there, but I'm slower. I already have an idea for the next volume, but for now, I need to publish this one, the fruits of two years of work.

Volumes 3 & 4 are still available in physical and digital editions. You can reach me by e-mail.

It had been a very long time since I'd bought a complete bike. I also haven't often had the opportunity to buy a handcrafted bike, and I think my professional year in 2024 will have definitively turned me away from modern handcrafted bikes, as the prices sometimes don't reflect the durability of bikes compare to those made before 1990. And then there are the egos of some bike manufacturers. Anyway.

Last year, probably after talking with someone I greatly admire, I realized that a bike is a complete package, and a handcrafted bike even more so. You acquire a project, a thought process, a work process; you support the lifestyle of a craftsman or a team you admire and love. It's not just a frame, but also a geometry, the artisan's interpretation of your desires and needs, the result of a collaboration. You're buying a selection of components and a wheel build, as well as attention to detail and, finally, ongoing support for your bike over the years. Also, I still have time to change my mind; chasing after bare frames to assemble seems less relevant now when it comes to buying a handcrafted bike: Singer, Dejouannet, Michel, Carré, Urago, Chiron, Doléac, and so on.

With this in mind, I wanted to make as few modifications as possible to this Bernard Carré, which I was able to acquire thanks to a network of people who share my vision of cycling. La Bardouille, Octave from Paris, whom I first met at the 2025 Singer Rally without really getting to know each other, then again at the Cezanne Rally, and even shared a delicious meal with a mutual friend, Olivier Csuka, followed by kilometers on the Gabriel Refait loop.

An alert on Le Bon Coin. A very attractive price of €180. An extremely friendly seller. And above all, Octave, quick to help me, to give me, a little enthusiast, a boost in acquiring this beautiful size 56 bike. Octave went to Fontainebleau, picked up the bike, and then took it to Marseille a few weeks later. I rode it for a few kilometers before giving it a little makeover, but so little as the bike was in such good condition. I added a touch of color with pink and sky blue cotton bar tape, installed Japanese-style (Ninja Maki), Nissen cable housing, Dia Compe brake levers, and two pairs of Kool Stop brake pads. No real need for anything more, the rest is like new. I'm also swapping in a pair of clincher wheels I had on my previous bike.

The bike is extremely pleasant, easy to ride in high gears, generously stiff when standing up without being too stiff on rougher sections of road. The riding position is intentionally aerodynamic, with a 560mm frame and a 110mm stem. You move around on the saddle to adjust your position according to the effort required, and the 415mm handlebars don't offer too many surprises in terms of available positions. While the current trend is for seatposts as high as the Eiffel Tower, this Bernard Carré offers a traditional design and, in my opinion, a more mechanically sound one: a 565mm seat tube for a seat height of 730mm in center, resulting in a 165mm seatpost (tube/rails/saddle). You'll notice that before the 1990s, commercially available seatposts were generally close to 180 mm. I'm curious to know what motivates manufacturers to release seatposts today that are close to 350, or even 400 mm. As for the rest, I note a bottom bracket height of 280 mm and a wheelbase (center to center) of 995 mm. I have no opinion on these measurements, but I'm noting them for potential future comparisons. I would have liked to measure the head tube and seat tube angles, but I don't know how; if anyone has any ideas, please let me know. One small flaw to note: the rear brake bridge is positioned a bit high (about 5 mm). The brake pad, therefore, sits on the upper edge of the braking surface and, after wear, risks touching the tire. I'll have to correct this by filing down the caliper where the brake pad mounting bolts pass through.

So all that remains for me is to ride this bike to appreciate and pay tribute to the work of Bernard Carré.

Let's not forget the people who forged our future.

I started cycling like most people of my generation, by starting on a fixed gear. I miss those times, digging on forums or blogs to try to understand how a bicycle works, digging shops too, which were full of colorful parts, despite it being already too expensive for me. I somehow miss BLB, and I'm thankful that Nitto or Dia Compe are still doing nice, fair-priced, and colorful parts. I miss these never-ending night rides with people who may not cycle anymore.

It was so much fun. Era felt different.

Looking at these pictures & posts on https://fixedgeargirltaiwan.blogspot.com/ reminds me how time flies so fast, and how I wish I had taken more pictures of this period of my life. Because today I'm only left with blurred memories.

Here is a small selection I have taken from 2020 to today, while working on Cyclopast. From Taiwan to Italy. From famous framebuilders to very discreet collectors. I have met countless people, most of them will never remember me or our encounter in a decade, but I'm proud to have collected their stories, to fix them in paragraphs for eternity.

Cyclopast is a series of books, published since 2020, focusing on traditional ( vintage, retro, steel ) bikes.

Artisans, manufacturers, travelers, collectors are all gathered in these books dedicated to people who love history and a specific bicycle culture.

These books are written, edited, and published by me ( Ernest ) and do not have any ads in them. They are printed in France but are written in English to have the widest audience possible.

They can be ordered by contacting me via email or phone.

or

They can be paid to download from Gumroad: https://cyclopast.gumroad.com/

The 2026 edition has been in preparation for a year and a half. It should be ready next spring. If I'm not too lazy.