I’ve always coveted Pinarello’s Dogma ever since watching Bradley Wiggins, Chris Froome & Co. climbing podium after podium with Team Sky and Ineos Grenadiers thanks, in part, to their Dogma 65.1 Think 2s. Those early Dogmas were iconic machines, surreal Daliesque concoctions that looked like they’d been forged organically in the white heat of battle. What followed, of course, was an ambitious succession of race-bred refinements, culminating in Pinarello’s current masterpiece, the Dogma F. To a fanboy like me, it’s performance personified.
Which is exactly why I’ve never bought one. Yes, I’ve pressed my nose up against the cold, glass windows of countless high-end bike shops, fantasising about ownership, but I’ve never pulled the trigger.
