As I scanned the room for familiar faces almost everyone seemed to fit the mould and looked like they were meant to be there. But (of course) there was one person that stood out a little. The Charles Bronson handlebar moustache was a bit of a giveaway, but this guy had an air about him. Tall, slim, athletic, he kind of floated around the room. Even though he was dressed in his work-gear (T-shirt, khaki pants, Crocs and his trademark flip-up welding glasses), there was a grace to him. All–knowing, comfortable in his own skin, not out to impress anyone, a calmness. This of course was Tom Richey, the reason we were all at TBA… one of the founding fathers of our beloved mountain bike. It was he who had built the first production mountainbike frame way back in the late 1970s.

I’d arrived a little early, and there was already stuff going on, but Tom didn’t really seem to be saying much. He was taking it all in, setting up, preparing. The environment was familiar to him, but of course this wasn’t his home workshop. Things were a little different here on this side of the pond.
We sat down at around ten in TBA’s kitchen, and over a coffee/tea introductions were made. Ritchey just sat there, calmly and quietly, but unnervingly silent. A question was put to him by Andrew Denham (founder of TBA and organiser of the event), “Tom, would you like to explain why you started fillet brazing…”, and the floodgates opened. Softly spoken, full of character, honest and humble, one of mountainbike’s true pioneers started to talk… and talk… and talk. I think he must have spoken for about an hour, all from just that one first question, but we were all rapt, in awe. His relaxed Californian accent lulling us into a mountainbiking stupor.

Back at TBA the first (main) day was split into two parts. The day-time was a ‘Brazing Masterclass’ for a small group of Ritchey fans who had come along to learn from the great master, and then the evening was a ‘live brazing’ demo, with more people, beer, pizza, a film showing and a photo exhibition. The aim of the day was to show those in attendance Ritchey’s techniques but also to braze up a specially designed 650b frame that TBA and he had been working on, the “old skool meets new school” theme made flesh. It was a collaboration between the two parties, dreamt up and designed in the weeks and months leading up to the event, and it evolved in the background during the day as various people worked on it. The final brazes would be completed in the evening in front of the eager crowd and then on day two the bike would be ridden. From a pile of tubes to complete bike in less than 24 hours.

In the day-time session Ritchey would show us the way he did it. As the saying goes, “there are many ways to skin a cat”, and so too it seems when it comes to brazing (not welding) a bicycle. Whilst TBA go for the ‘one pass’ approach, building and shaping the fillet on one go (using a 3-5mm cone on the torch), Ritchey uses a technique of two passes, building up and flowing the braze around the joint (with a 8-10mm cone), then taking another pass to persuade the liquid braze to do what he wanted it to do. He described it as “a dance”. The TBA way seemed more mechanical (not in a bad way), whilst the Ritchey way had an almost organic feel to it. The molten metal being gently manipulated and massaged into the desired position and form. Both methods produce the same end result, a solid joint, but visually they are quite different. We all had a go. For some (myself included) it was the first time, but for others they already had the basics dialled, so this was more of a progression for them. Denham and Ritchey walked around offering insight and taking-in the way each other went about the process, giving advice as they went.

The evening was a huge success. At around 8pm the place was packed. Once again Ritchey started off quietly. Silently sitting down, sparking up his torch, flipping his glasses down, adjusting the flame… and then he set about his business. For a moment it felt like he wasn’t going to say anything. But just like earlier in the day, once he started talking the floodgates opened. People were transfixed. I got the feeling that if people could they would have stayed there all night listening to the great man. “Somebody should write a book about all this”. One day, one day.

I had to miss day two, but by all accounts Ritchey displayed an almost childlike joy as he rode the new bike (helmetless of course!) through the Bristol woods. Overnight (and as if by magic) the bike had been completed, stickered (raw finish) and built up with components.