I bet you are thinking ‘is this really a Youngs bike’. Read on and decide for yourself:
In 1974, at the age of 19, I went up from my home near Maidstone in Kent to Youngs of Lewisham and bought a frame off the shelf from them in primrose yellow. I built it up with begged and borrowed bits and rode it around Liverpool and London (as a stripped down fixie) in my university years. Moved north to Macclesfield, got it resprayed in red and got replacement decals from Youngs, rode it across France and various places, and my final trip on it in 2002 was along the Camino de Santiago, by which time it was very old and tired and I assumed I couldn’t get new kit to fix it.
I bought an alloy winter trainer, and while the Youngs was on loan to my nephew a rear stay got bent in a reversing on the bike rack incident.
The frame languished in my son’s cellar until one Christmas my family bought me a Brooks Swift saddle . . . titanium. It looked daft on my alloy bike and my son had tracked down a bike builder in East Manchester, Neil Orrell, a well respected cyclo-crosser, and I took the Youngs to him in 2011 and talked about a rebuild. I asked him if I was daft and he said politely ‘ It’s an old friend’. So he proceeded to strip it down, replace the back stays, and then get his enameller to prime and fill and rub the frame to remove over 25 years of dinks, after which he sprayed it to my choice of pastel green. The decals come from a guy who makes repro ones, unfortunately he doesn’t do the earlier crest for the front tube, which was on the original paintwork.
We tracked down Tektro long throw brakes which solved the problem of reach to the new 700c’s and built it up with Shimano Tiagra kit and other bits from his parts bin. The handlebars were bound in Brooks leather to match the saddle, which we finally stuck on top and I rode it away.
Six years later it’s been round the peaks where I live a lot, been around Britain and France, and its best adventure was three years ago when my wife and I cycled and camped down the coast of France from St Malo on the North Coast to Hendaye on the Spanish border, the frame groaning under the load of the panniers.
As we cycled near a busy tourist beach on our French bikeride a tourist cycled past and said in a gruff South London accent ‘Long time since I’ve seen a Youngs of Lewisham’.
In reality less than the whole of the frame is the original bike. So it a Youngs or not . . . ?