Leandro’s Bridgestone Eurasia is a stubborn piece of shit, but it’s a lovely piece of shit.

And I say this with utmost affection. The Eurasia was built with numerous trials, errors, and sheer stubbornness. It ruined Leandro’s life in the best way possible.

He purchased the vintage bike, still in its original red paint, in November 2023. It had cantilever brakes, clearance for 700c by 32mm tires with fenders, and a seven-speed drivetrain with downtube friction shifters. It looked like a dream, but rode like a nightmare.

The first goal was to make sure that the Eurasia was as rideable as possible, given the outdated standards. The budolry kicked in when he upgraded the cockpit, drivetrain, and brakes to suit his preferences—all within a month after getting the bike. His efforts paid off when he went on a reverse Laguna Loop during the holidays.

Once 2024 rolled in, the budol resumed. It started when Velo Orange restocked its 3x crank, and then his expenses sank even deeper with more VO parts such as the crank, front and rear hubs, and fenders from Bikeary and TryOn. It looked pretty, but the ride quality was still a letdown compared to his Marin Nicasio. Plus, his savings were drained.

My role in all of this was the observer by the sidelines, either at Tambay Cycling Hub, his place, or online, listening to him talk about what needs to be fixed or replaced on the bike. Leandro went all-in with the budol, without realizing how deep the money sinkhole could go.

A Bike Build In Medias Res

Leandro reassembled his Eurasia right after arriving from Singapore.

As much as he wanted to ride his Eurasia, he just couldn’t enjoy the damn thing. The weak brakes, thin tires, and fussy drivetrain all refused to cooperate. He thought of letting it go at some point, but that meant taking a financial hit. Getting a Crust Romanceur or Rune Rufus Stone was also out of the picture due to budget constraints.

Inspired by the neo-retro bikes of his friends, he realized that modernizing the frameset was the most practical option. He dropped off the bike at DJ Cycleworks, nephew of the famed framebuilder Ave Maldea, all the way in Binangonan, Rizal. That day was Palm Sunday, and he wouldn’t be able to ride it for the next three months.

The frame was converted to thru-axle with flat mount disc brakes, and tire clearance for 650b x 48mm with fenders. After two months with DJ Cycleworks, it spent another month at Bike Project Manila for the paint job and bike skin.

But the high of the long-awaited reunion didn’t last long. After a trip to Tanay, Rizal, in August, more complications popped up: the BB shell had loose threads, and the paint by BPM was chipping off, forcing him to send the bike back for a redo.

Just before our Lobo Loop ride in September, the bike was finished.

Ish.

Leandro was glad that the bike was finally usable, but he was never happy with the color scheme. He used it for his first (and probably only) Audax brevet in Subic last December, where he noticed surface rust appearing in places where it shouldn’t have appeared in the first place.

During the car ride home from Subic, and still simmering with that understandable frustration over needing yet another paint job, he contacted Mang Buboy to have it repainted. But before that, he had Mang Ave replace the cursed BB shell to get rid of that headache once and for all.

After getting back from a vacation in Singapore, he reassembled his “new” blue bike at Tambay Cycling Hub… only to bring it back to Mang Ave for cold setting.

The final upgrade was a pair of Growtac Equals from Blue Lug Japan in January 2026, along with a minor bike fit from Mervin Santiago. All of this was done just in time for the Eurasia to be featured by Path Less Pedaled.

Today, it accelerates like a tractor, but rolls as smoothly as butter. Once it gets going, it goes fast and far. Even if I can never ride the Eurasia, I share Leandro’s joy in riding bikes, even appreciating the challenge of cycling as swiftly as he can whenever we ride together.

It’s like watching a legendary bird Pokémon soar off just ahead, while you’re happy to be flying just behind with your own Fearow.

Through most of last year, I felt secondhand frustration as I saw him go through several setbacks. I, too, wanted to see the bike work like it’s supposed to. I watched him agonize over several details until finally, everything looked like things just fell into place. The end product is worth it.

And for better or for worse, the process was entirely contagious.

A Blueprint for My Own Build

One does not simply watch a person painstakingly modify a bike without absorbing some of that madness. The Bridgestone Eurasia unknowingly became a template for my Blocks Lo-Fi. I had initially wanted to do a similar route, but he discouraged me from doing so, and suggested using a modern frame with classic-inspired parts instead.

It met my expectations. The exposure to his build was the door, while my grief over my mom’s death opened it. And lo(-fi) and behold, Lucien was born.

My bike exists because the Eurasia proves that it’s better to build a bike right the first time around. And the “soul” of a bike is found in the struggle of making it good enough for the person riding it.

Is the Bridgestone Eurasia Finished?

The Bridgestone Eurasia is a physical testament to my friend’s undying passion for cycling.

The bike is now exactly what Leandro envisioned it to be. But is it done? Yes. After all, all Leandro wants to do is ride it as much as he can, as much as he’s able to. Our beloved two-wheeled machines aren’t perfect, but they are reflections of who we are as individuals.

It’s a beautiful, sometimes frustrating, majestic piece of shit, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.