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in 1957 my father, Dan Gullbongs traveled to cyclo-tour and let his flowing locks fly free in the winds of the Swiss Alps. Cresting the largest mountain, he happened across a monastery where mighty monk metallurgists spent day and night toiling over their ancient coal-fired forge. “What is it that you handcraft in there?” he bellowed at the monks above the howling wind. His inquiry met with silence, he parked his steed—a Nishiki Colonado—and investigated further. There he found the Monks drawing the finest titanium toobs in existence. Their rigor and dedication revealed to him something he had always known: this was his life’s calling. His casual curiosity turned to obsession as he spent the next 69 months working dawn to dusk with no reward but for the honing of his titanium manufacturing skills. By the end of his training, the monks were in awe of this chosen-one’s wizardry at the titanium forge. They rewarded his toil with one gift: a humble second-hand coal-fired Titanium forge.
