I remember it well. The intersection of Evans Street and Ross, a gentleman older than me. To my left he rode, alongside a Kombi van likely piloted by a stoned me. Almost definitely. It was the bulk, the ‘fatness’ that drew my attention. Not that of the rider, but of the bicycle underneath him. Accustomed to thin round steel pipes, the comparably massive aluminium can-size down tube gloated in large letters readable from the moon: Cannondale.

I’d just started mountain biking, and the flagship bike displayed in my soon-to-be local was a wild-looking machine with a shock absorber sitting behind the seat tube, yet no sign of front suspoension bar a weird stem that moved up and down. Still, it was the earliest example of bike lust that I recall. Seeing the road version of this fat-tubed monster fueled a desire to own another road bike. (I was still in possession of my Bennett Montreal 10 speed, bought for me in my high school years, now gathering dust in the pool shed.) It was my now my mission to own a Cannondale.

It never happened. I don’t know why, possibly because they seemed to cost twice as much as any bike I could afford, or maybe something was telling me that I was a steel guy; my hardtails were always steel, and a few years later I’d get a proper road bike, also steel, in the age when alloy was taking over the world because, weight. Everything had to be as light as possible, breakages be damned. I’d still ogle others’ ‘Dales though, especially the Saeco red ones and later a glorious Simoni replica Six-13 of a local racer. Loved Cipo, loved Gilberto, loved DiLuca. Italians on American alloy was a winning formula.

Now, I can afford a 90s Cannondale easily, but probably not one of those hideous aero bikes the Pros ride. Out of all those hideous aero bikes the Pros ride, I still think the ‘Dale is one of the better looking, due to the straighter tube profiles. But the aesthetics of a 90s CAAD or even a 2.8 from earlier still is one of the best looking road bikes ever. I’ve spent hours ogling the neo-retro builds all over the internet, and discovered there is a cult-like devotion to them. I was finally among friends.

Before I knew it there were three of them in my garage. A couple of 2.8 frames and a complete one, but no CAAD yet. A couple would pop up for sale but never the right size, or the right price. These hold their value pretty well, only let down by old components. Finally the right one came along, right size, right colour, decent bits.

We’d chatted about a neo-retro build for a friend, so this one was earmarked as another I’d miss out on. I was now though riding a 2.8 I’d built up and was stunned at how well it rode still. Deep down, I wanted to say “I’m keeping this one” as the build progressed and the parts fell into place.

The bike was located in Hastings, and quickly calculating shipping versus a trip up, the wife and dog were loaded into the van and we made a weekend of it. When we arrived at the address, the bike sat proudly out front of… a pig farm.

A few scratches from a rack and some paint chips were the sum of the blemishes. Upon removing the cassette from the Ksyrium wheels I was stunned and pleased to see nary a gouge or mark on the freehub body. We’d scored a great canvas upon which to paint our Campag brush strokes.

I still think Chorus/Record 10 speed is one of if the not the best shifting groupsets ever, and it is just modern enough to be considered the ‘neo’ part of a neo-retro build. To make it even more neo, I dug out my Chorus carbon 11 crankset which really brings the profile to life.

It all seemed too simple. Everything was coming together nicely, the Slice carbon fork and FSA headset didn’t need to be upgraded like some of the 2.8s with their alloy 1″ forks, and 1 1/8″ steerer made choosing a stem and bar a lot easier with more options. A Zipp SL 0º stem and aero bar just seemed to be made for this build.

Now we just needed to decide on the wheels. The Kysrium Elites on the bike were as said before in great condition, and suited the aesthetic no doubt. Sitting in the corner though were a set of Zondas, infinitely cooler and substantially lighter than the Mavics. On they went.

A brand new set of Skeleton brakes, carbon aero seatpost and San Marco saddle iced the cake with some sprinkles on top. New cables, bar tape, and I was away for a test ride. This is where the territory gets challenging for me, I put so much heart and soul into the build process that it’s too easy to fall in love, and this was no different. This bike rides like a dream; smooth, quiet, crisp, quick. And stiff. Cannondale stiff. Put a fast fit rider on this and there’s little doubt it could still be a race winner.

Alas, I had to let it go. I know there will be another come along soon, or later. That’s why I started this project, to bring cool, high-performance, functional and fast bikes to people who don’t want to be part of the crowd, who want to stand out, be unique, and be assured that there won’t be another half dozen bikes exactly the same in the bunch or local race. And at a cost a mere fraction of the exhorbitant numbers that a new aero bike boasts. Lighter, easier to work on and just cooler. It’s a no-brainer for the brainy.

*Like what you see? Want to curate your own build with us? Have an old classic that needs to be revived, or brought into the modern world with selected upgrades? Want something unique? Not a millionaire? You know what to do. Drop us a line and let’s talk, we’ll make a dream come true, or provide you with a new dream.