Fantasy Christmas bikes — 10 legendary bikes from yesteryear featuring Raleigh, Mercier, Legnano + more

Christmas is a time for nostalgia, hope, and dreaming… well, if you’re lucky that is. For many of us cyclists, this means dreams of fantasy bikes and kit of old and new, usually in the vain hope that the dream bike you always lusted after, or even that retro team kit of the past greats you drooled over as a kid, will somehow magically appear beneath the Christmas tree.

We can but dream, eh? I’m guessing our fantasy festive bike lists will all differ greatly, and no doubt debating it with one another would turn into one of those greatest all-time bands showdowns, as our bicycle dreams are no doubt influenced by past memories, experiences, the greats of the sport, and of course, by our age.

I’m certainly not claiming this list of mine is by any means a list of the best all-time bikes, simply 10 classic bikes that I’d personally love to find in my own festive bike shed. The finer specs, details and the exact model year of each of these bikes don’t matter greatly to me, but I have made some colourway and component requests for some of my dream Christmas bike selections.

Do let us know about your own fantasy bikes in the comments below. I’ll start with my big five, then I’ve nominated five more ‘stocking fillers’ beneath the main presents…

Raleigh Chopper Mark 2 (1972, in purple)

Oh my purple goodness, and plenty of it! Serve me up a ride back to my Oxford bags and tank top youth and I’d be as chuffed as I was with a Mr Softy whipped up 99 back in 1972. Yes, my love of this deathtrap of dreams on wheels holds no bounds. It may not be quite what you were expecting to see on this fantasy bike list, and yet it’s the only exact bike model here that I once owned.

I’ve written here before about my Chopper, and the countless years of adventure and freedom it led me on, and I’d sorely love to once again own one. That long and highly-sprung PVC saddle, the backie rack, high rise suicide bars, and of course: the nut cracker gear knob in the crash path.

Throw in a foghorn, add a Tandy radio and a speedo, and yes, even now, I’d hop on one for a ride to the pub for my Christmas dinner. Maybe I’d even try a plank jump after a few too many sherries…

TI-Raleigh Team bike (late 1970s – early ’80s)

The bike of boyhood continental dreams: a TI-Raleigh team bike.

This is where my true cycling journey all started, when I saw a picture of the mighty TI-Raleigh team on the back of a Raleigh brochure. I was hooked, I’d never seen a racing cyclist before, let alone a professional one, and so I ended up with a Raleigh Europa, a low end 10-speed racer in team colours, and that was it.

Somehow, I managed to talk my parents into ordering a TI-Raleigh McGregor jersey for my 13th birthday too – the only cycling kit I owned at the time. By hook or by crook, on the back pages of newspapers as tall as me, and in Saturday afternoon TV clips, I followed the great TI-Raleigh icons of the era like demi-gods: Kuiper, Raas, Knetemann, Lubberding, Thaler, and of course Zoetemelk.

Those red dream machines, all Nottingham made, and of Reynolds 753 tubing strapped with their black and yellow bands. The Campagnolo Record groupsets, the Cinelli bars and stems… oh how I dreamt of one day owning one, and still do.

Holdsworth Professional team bike (late 1970s)

Possibly the first time I ever saw the legendary Holdsworth Campagnolo team in full flight was from at the roadside on the A5 in 1978, as I watched a long and brightly- coloured peloton of pro bike riders stream past during the London to Holyhead race, an ultra-long-distance classic of the era.

I can still remember the race caravan coming along a few minutes earlier and handing me a newspaper-sized program, a paper hat and flag, and then me scouring the riders and teams list. Not that I knew anything about it at the time, I’d only just discovered riding dropped bar bikes, but it certainly set the glitzy dreams rolling. The Holdsworth roster that year included the likes of Les West, Phil Bayton, Phil Corley and Dudley Hayton.

Little did I know it at the time, but I was so fortunate to see that orange and blue machine with their following orange Ford Cortina team car, as that was to be the last year of racing for one of Britain’s most iconic and long-standing teams.

I came across a replica of those machines and the car a while back; all Reynolds steel and Campagnolo retro chic. It set my nostalgic knobbly knees quivering with retro lust. It would great to ride back in time on a Holdsworth Professional time machine to those glory days of the team.

Miko Mercier team bike (late 1970s)

Once bitten, once smitten. Those iconic pink Mercier team bikes, and the bold white, purple and pink Miko Mercier team jerseys of the late 70s were truly a sight to behold.

Although we rarely saw these things up close in the UK, there were a number of occasions when these historical French pink panthers would prowl our shores, usually ridden by the late, great Barry Hoban. I can always remember watching him occasionally racing in the UK on one of those pink dreams, and seeing the images of his epic London-Bradford solo, rain-lashed win aboard his Mercier in 1979 (I understand his frames were actually made by Woodrup, in Yorkshire).

With names like Poulidor and Zoetemelk riding pink Mercier bikes to many victories over the decades, I’m sure many older cyclists will have once of had dreams of sitting pretty in pink. The build of the Mercier team bikes was, allegedly, always a tad mysterious; generally Reynolds 531 and then 753 later, and while many listings claim mostly French componentry, there are plenty of Campagnolo-equipped images around from this era of Hoban, Zoetemelk etc.

Brooklyn Gios Torino team bike

A Sunday in Hell, the film following Roger De Vlaeminck and the main contenders during the 1976 edition of Paris-Roubaix, is an all-time cycling classic. De Vlaeminck was possibly the greatest style icon of the era, and one of the greatest classics riders of all time. Aside from this, there was his Brooklyn team, and those oh-so-spangly striped jerseys, all aboard their classic Giorgio blue and chrome Gios bikes. Sadly, the team ended in 1977, just before I got to see them in real life, and my intro to those romantic and mythical bikes was seeing a friend of mine race on one, and also the Ijsboerke-Gios team riding them.

Fancy Columbus tubing, the finest Campagnolo groupsets… pure Italian class. It’s the kind of bike I’d have ridden with a Breaking Away kind of ‘Ciao papa’ and a grin about me, but that never happened.

Gios are very much still around and selling swishy stylish bikes, and as I write this, a 1978 Rudy Pevenage Ijsboerke-Gios team bike popped up for sale in a regional Facebook group for 3,200 euros, sadly without chrome forks.

Here are another fab five bicycle-shaped stocking fillers (space around the digital Christmas tree is sparse, but we’ve just about found room)…

Legnano team bike (1960s)

Oh, that uniquely special pear green. The chrome, the artwork, the history, the tales that followed. Legnano, a classic Italian brand all but lost to time, yet laden in such historical fable. The story of Alfredo Binda, the legends Coppi and Bartali, and so many more. The misty story of one of professional cycling’s longest-standing brands is simply astonishing.

True, it was a bit before my time, but to own one of those green glory machines, with Campagnolo’s finest, and some sweet centre-pull brakes (not Universal, please), that would make me happy this Christmas. Naturally, I’d have to get one of those epic jerseys too.

Flandria team bike (late 1970s – early ’80s)

Fast Freddy Maertens, a hard as nails rockstar of the sport, and a rider of such amazing prowess both on and off a bike. A true Flandrien hero of two-wheeled racing, and much of it achieved aboard his bright red Flandria frame (with chrome forks, of course), and what a sight it was.

So many of the greats of the sport rode those legendary red Flandria bikes, and every time I see one, I can’t help but feel like opening my shirt, pouring a glass of Pernod, putting a Charles Aznavour ’78 on, and then watching an Alain Delon classic movie over a fondue as the 70s disco ball swirls above. Ahh, Flandria.

Florian Schneider’s Kraftwerk edition Speedwell Titanium

If only I’d had a spare $52,000 a few weeks ago… okay, I probably wouldn’t have bought Florian’s Speedwell titanium even if I had.

I can remember a few Speedwell bikes being around locally when I was racing as a kid. The frames were lovely and subtle, but well expensive too. Owning a piece of electronic music history would also add to the appeal of the bike that appeared in Kraftwerk’s famous Tour de France video, that would be cool; and yet, the other three must still be out there?

Roy Cottingham road frame

Northamptonshire-based frame builder Roy Cottingham was a master of the art. His beautiful fancy curly and hand painted lugs, that attention to detail, it was the stuff of classic bicycle beauty.

Why a Cottingham frame? Well, I did own two. One I actually saw being built by Roy (who was a friend), which had no fancy lugs, and the other I was gifted. Sadly, that fell fowl of rust. To have one of those beauties for those special rides would be mint.

Graeme Obree’s Old Faithful

Of all the bikes I never owned before, the one I’d really love to hang over the great open fire of tall stories (which I don’t have these days) would be Graeme’s Old Faithful.

His homemade creation featuring washing machine bearings sped to world championship and hour record-breaking glory, and Graeme is a true cycling folk hero. I did meet him in the past, and rode with him and Old Faithful to a London bike show in a black cab years ago. What a true pair of rebellious, yet ingenious, legends they are.

Let us know what your ultimate fantasy bikes are in the comments section below