25/07/2025
Urago's history, part four.
7. Urago's core: a passionate dad.
I blush at the thought of having only good things to say about our Father! But I'll say a little bad about him if you secretly wish: Among the reproaches I will make to him, I cannot fail to point out that he never, really never, spoke to us about his childhood. Throughout our lives, we were unaware that he had been raised in Italy, and under what conditions?
It was not until our Father brought the directors of the D'Alessandro intestine factory home that I heard him speak Italian for the first time, which, I remind you, was his mother tongue, which he knew and apparently still used perfectly. He also spoke Piedmontese perfectly.
I had to stay away from home to receive a perfectly written letter from him, proving to me that he knew how to speak and write French!
I had to understand how much it hurt him to see that I would not follow him to the Factory, even though I had obtained, on his advice, the Mathematics-Technology baccalaureate, and that I should have become, as he hoped, an "engineer" to assist him. He never reproached me for it!
But, above all, we had to reach an advanced age to obtain from him details about his "origins", to know the places where he grew up!
I only knew of his children's "major" fault: he believed that we thought like him, that we reacted like him. For example, he had only one real entertainment: he loved cycle races and the velodrome in particular. And we, young children, then young people, had to accompany him to spend half-days at the velodrome watching riders, and riders, and more riders, spin around and around again, whom we ended up... not seeing at all. At 10 years old, I could sing you all the waltzes and all the tunes that were played while the athletes spun around the track at the Pasteur velodrome! I could give you details of the different events, the speed races, the "individual" races, the elimination races, the American races, the stayer competitions!... Yes, this velodrome, targeted by the American air force, which had mistaken it for the SNCF engine repair rotunda at the Saint Roch depot, even though it was located a few hundred meters away! And which was (partially) destroyed!
That's not much, you might say!
Furthermore, he had a particular knack for spotting the guy (or girl) who had a bad position on a bike. He couldn't help but correct each person's faults out loud. He automatically corrected the positions: "frame too short," "saddle too high," "handlebars too far and too low", "Look at that one, he sways too much!" or "He or she has short legs, they need cranks like this or that..." And, indeed, not all people are "made" the same way: some have a long torso and short legs, and others, for the same overall height, have longer legs and a shorter torso.
The position on the bike can't be the same for everyone. I saw my Father take customers' measurements and notes, like tailors do for clothes, leg length, and torso length. He even went so far as to measure shoulder width so he could fit the guys with handlebars of the correct width!
I told you: he was a perfectionist! In his mind and with his dedication to doing things well, his sole goal was to make "comfortable" and efficient bikes. The machines were truly "custom-made"...
I confess that I think I inherited this gift: I can't help but mentally correct the position of the guys I see perched on a bike!
But wait. We weren't talking about me, we were talking about our Father!
It was inevitable that a guy like him would succeed in the challenge that presented itself after the war. Starting a business, fine! Starting a factory, at a pinch, fine! But then all that remained was to find a clientele demanding enough to utilize the qualities of the equipment we made available to them. Well, he succeeded in all that!
He was a "salesman" at heart. He saw customers everywhere, and those who weren't could become customers, and they had to be "taken care of" even more than the others.
8. Fine, custom-made machine that will last forever.
Very quickly, after the Factory began operating, it was known (and acknowledged) by the "specialists" that Urago bicycles were excellent machines. First in Nice and the surrounding area, then, increasingly further afield. I'm not claiming in any way that he was the only one in France seeking this type of quality. Still, he was, in a way, part of that "quarton"—Routens in Grenoble, Herse in Paris—specially gifted, where people came looking for (and were sure to find) "THE" bicycle, the machine, we called it, that best suited what they wanted to do with it.
Children's bikes, oversized bikes for very tall people (his record: a Belgian customer who admitted, but we don't know how he could have hidden it, his 2.34 m!) or abnormally small people, for the very heavy with reinforced frames, machines for couples, the famous tandems, machines for making deliveries (tricycles). Dominique, in his simplicity, truly found himself with a specialty that was shared by very few other "builders" in France: custom-made bikes!
Then, after a few years, he embarked on yet another adventure, manufacturing the first mopeds (with Sachs engines, which I seem to remember were imported from Czechoslovakia). What else do I know? I think I can safely say that it was during this time that our Father used, for the first and last time, the services of an engineer outside the firm. Indeed, engine mechanics weren't his forte. His moped was called the Azurette. Some of them are still in operation today.
The Factory manufactured tandems, which is a normal and customary practice. But, even in this field, I saw him take measurements of the two people who would be the users of these very special machines. These arrangements provided frames with different dimensions for the driver and the passenger. These details seemed unnecessary to some, but having climbed Mont Agel in competition myself, during a Vélocio Day, I can assure you that having a machine adjusted to the size of both users was not to be sneezed at!
(By the way, I should point out that this experiment was conducted with Gisèle Bério and that we set a record on this climb, a record that may have stood to this day!).
Our Father was one of the very first to test the famous Vélosolex. I'm even better placed to talk about it because I remember "ramming" (into the back of a car) on Avenue Impératrice de Russie, the first model entrusted to the Factory by Solex!
Vélosolex was later taken over by his brother-in-law Jean-Paul Massiera, who had become THE Solex specialist in Nice.
Our Father was the first to make children's bikes, equipped like adult bikes with Cyclo derailleurs, then Simplex derailleurs, and Lam brakes.
He tried everything that could make cycling more enjoyable, more practical, and more functional. From the very beginning, he agreed to "assemble" Cyclo equipment, for which he became an agent. He encouraged the assembly of Simplex's specialty products and never hesitated, after possibly testing them himself, to use new methods and equipment.
He was one of the very first to adopt equipment as it appeared on the market: Stronglights tubes, Vitus tubes, Reynold's tubes, Campagnolo equipment (from Italy), and Shimano (from Japan) —names that were part of our youth.
And the saddles? You had to choose between Brooks saddles or Brooks saddles! And if, after using your saddle, you happen to want to change bikes for one reason or another, you could do so (your reasons were always the best); however, you mustn't forget to transfer your saddle to your new machine. The saddle, he said (and I wasn't far from believing him), was made to fit your posterior morphology, and you couldn't waste a year or two "breaking in" a new one, when changing machines; Come on! Think about it!!!
Another change he adopted from the outset: the triple chainring (he wasn't particularly a climber), which he "pulled" without knowing that one day a great champion, "the Englishman Froome," would also adopt it and be immediately imitated by the best!
I remember, during the single year when, having left my job in the tourism industry, I became a "Representative" for Cycles Urago, I remember, as I told you, the thoughts and boundless admiration of the dealers-agents to whom I presented the children's bikes for the end-of-year holidays: reduced-scale reproductions of the best machines used by "real" champions, these bikes had, to say the least, thrilled the dealers I visited. The same frames assembled, with such care, using the same attachments (fittings), the same equipment, the eight-speed derailleurs, the same colors; it was an immediate success! I had achieved an extraordinary turnover in just a few weeks. To the great satisfaction of the "promoter" of these machines, our Father and mine!
Later, and to give another example of our Father's quick perception of new techniques, I heard him discuss the merits of using elliptical pedals as soon as they appeared on the market, invented as they were by an ingenious user, a man from the Côte d'Azur, I believe, from the Menton region, whose name I have forgotten, of course. Still, I know he rode a bike in Monaco. The greatest champions now use these pedals.
9. "A visionary! That's precisely it: he was a visionary! "
At the same time, he was an artist who wanted, above all, for a bicycle to be not just a "machine" but also a pleasing object to look at. Cables (derailleurs, lighting), etc., weren't aesthetically pleasing; they simply had to be hidden, and he, as I've already mentioned, with his miracle-working workers, drilled the tubes and developed tools to recover the said cables, which were routed "inside" the tubes. I can speak of this because, before becoming the Representative for the Urago brand, my Father had demanded, and I understood perfectly, that I complete an internship along the assembly line. I learned how to assemble a headset and a bottom bracket, and I knew how to adjust brakes and install a light. All these skills allowed me to become a Representative who knew what he was talking about.
But above all, yes, he demanded that the work be "perfect." A bicycle was like a work of art for him. It was essential to see how the tubes were connected with "attachments" that were handcrafted, almost sculpted, until they were beautiful without, of course, being any more fragile. In his view, the "connections" used to join two tubes together had to be attractive while remaining solid. And the work wasn't finished until the attachments were carefully filed, shaped, and almost "molded" to the extreme!
Our Father had also demanded perfection for the colors. He had desired and achieved ideal colors. The most common shade was red, of course, the famous Urago Red, but what people didn't know was that the somewhat transparent layer of red was applied over a base of gold powder paint that gave it a shine and a reflection that was completely unknown until then, but has since been widely imitated, including car manufacturers and others.
For the production of custom frames, those made to the customer's specifications, it was the customer who specified the color of their choice. Red was the most common request! However, for mass production, all shades and tones were used.
Production quickly shifted to mass production. Building "custom" bicycles would not have ensured the factory's profitability if it had been limited to producing this category alone. Therefore, the plan was to "release" a series of ordinary, but beautiful and well-built bicycles, as you can imagine, for shipment to every country in the world.
10. Urago all over the world.
The production of "special" bikes has made Urago Bikes known across five continents. And here, I'd like to share with you a situation I personally found myself in: Colette and I went to "assist" our son Nicolas in a triathlon he was participating in in Florida. To say "assist" is a bit of an exaggeration; he had no need of our "assistance," and let's just say that, in agreement with him, we took advantage of the situation to make this wonderful trip (which continued with the discovery of the Gulf Coast, Louisiana, and East Texas).
The competition promoters had organized a bicycle exhibition and market, among other things, and suddenly I spotted a stand selling high-quality bicycles (hadn't I mentioned that I'd inherited something from my Father in this area?)
The exhibitor, an American, was quite proud of the quality of the machines he was offering for sale. And it was almost automatic that I approached his booth. My eye caught an unusual sight in the U.S., I spotted a bike, but it wasn't lined up with the others. I took the liberty of pointing this out to the salesman, telling him that this machine didn't look like the others.
"That's mine," he told me. "It's not for sale!"
I told him that I recognized it as a bicycle made by my Father in Nice, France. He confidently replied that this was impossible because the machine came from Buenos Aires and therefore couldn't have been made in France. I then asked him to specify the name of the seller, and to his great surprise, he provided me with the name of an agent of our Father who had resold Urago bicycles in Buenos Aires, South America.
It was indeed a machine, a Urago red one, with all the familiar decorations! I would have recognized it among a thousand and for good reason. I never revealed the thing, but I still feel, along with the strangeness of the fact, a certain pride.
To say the least, Urago bikes were indeed sold worldwide. In France, certainly, and in practically every region, even the most distant.
It would be tedious and somewhat pointless, I imagine, to try to compile an exhaustive list of all the places where one could obtain them. I think that if you've had the patience to read this far in the article on Cycles Urago, you'll have realized that the brand occupied a special place in the life of cycling from 1939 to 1975.
11. Crafting timeless machines and unforgettable memories.
Our Father never missed an opportunity to promote his bikes: I feel perfectly able to cite a few of the opportunities he knew how to exploit. I've already mentioned that he "built" a team of local youth, but that wasn't enough for him. Rest assured, I'm not going to list all the opportunities that allowed him to promote his bikes, but still, it would be ridiculous for me to have gone that far and to minimize the importance of his various activities.
He and his brothers launched "race outings" for young people without a license. These "race outings" were designed to raise awareness among young people interested in taking up this sport. The system was based on the establishment of an "outing" calendar with weekly rankings and a tally of places at the end of the season, with prizes to be won!
Exhibitions and Trade Shows: Honestly, in this particular field, Urago cycles were offered to a clientele who only wanted that: the finest "pieces" of its manufacture in the bicycle field, and, as well, from 1955 onwards, in the moped field. Every year, the Nice Exhibition Fair (usually in February/March) was the perfect opportunity for this. He never failed to participate.
Racing teams: there were some in every region of France and in every country where his Urago bikes were used, which were particularly appreciated by athletes.
This was true, and I can find documents proving it, in North Africa, of course, Algeria, Tunisia, and Morocco, but also in Fort Lamy (currently N'Djamena, capital of Chad), where Mr. Ruozzi, a former rider on the Urago team, had moved, and who remained a great friend of our Father. Similarly, there were Urago teams in Hanoi and Saigon.
In Nice, the Vélocio Days consisted of climbing Mont-Agel, with numerous age and strength categories that seemed to cater to everyone. It was a great opportunity for our Father to display his creations near the starting line on Place Saluzzo (now Place Max Barel). We participated in all the competitions, according to our ages, and our mother was no stranger to these days, covering the rear with supplies and any necessary repairs. Participation in the cycling days that were these Vélocio Days, both in Nice and in Saint-Etienne in the Loire region. On those days, the whole family was in full swing: everyone participated, to the best of their ability, of course, but they participated, and that was the main thing!
The Saint-Étienne Vélocio Day in the Loire consisted of following the same formula, from the edge of town, the climb to the summit of the Col du Grand Bois. (On the road to the Col de la République).
It remains clear that participation in Club activities (A.V.A.N. in particular) allowed the whole family to get together regularly: Sunday outings, of course! They followed a logical schedule modeled on the school calendar, which began in October with minimal distances of 40 to 50 kilometers. Then, these distances increased throughout the season to allow Club members to participate in the 100km, 150km, and even the 200km Brevets, based on a program developed by the dedicated François Maîssa (the Factory's accountant and also the Club's central figure), who took the opportunity to take us on a tour of all the villages in the Alpes-Maritimes (or the nearby Var), according to a program of increasing distances and difficulties, ending in April with a Nice-Saint-Dalmas-le-Selvage (a 200km round trip)!
Among the Club's other activities, but not least, are the famous Three Days of Easter, which we wouldn't have missed for all the gold in the world, in more distant destinations, such as Pernes-les-Fontaines, the Camargue, the Gorges du Verdon, and many more.
Often, these outings, whether recent or not, were excuses to make other discoveries. I remember the climb to the Balcon du Gélas, well off the road, where some of us, unaware of our actual destination, had finished the route in cycling shoes. I won't tell you the state of those shoes at the end of the outing! Other outings: Lac d'Allos, where we took Jonathan, a young American student who was staying with us, who was discovering the wonders of our mountains and, even more surprisingly, who was asked to "sleep" at the refuge, in the company of cows and girls!
There was also a memorable outing during which, abandoning our bikes, we "climbed" the Daluis Gorges using strong walking poles along the bottom of the gorge. We all stood in single file, more or less holding on to each other to prevent the lighter among us from being swept away by the current. As I write this, I'm thinking of the man we nicknamed "Libellule," Michel Siffre, who later organized and completed the "timeless" solitary stay in the Marguareis Cave, located on the French-Italian border (between Tende and Cuneo).
Finally, I recall the memorable visit to a cave in the Var River, where our friend Abel Chochon, an experienced speleologist and member of the Club, took us for a morning of discovery. That day, our sister Josette had experienced the difficulties reserved for beginners in this very special sport of caving, to give us a demonstration of precisely what not to do. Suffering from vertigo, she was no longer able to climb the flexible ladder our friend Abel had installed to reach the entrance of the cave after a climb of about thirty meters! We had to help her reach the summit, one pushing (me), the other pulling, to reach the edge of the liberating entrance (and exit, of course)!
What memories!
