TL;DR: this was my very first road bike, purchased new in 1986, and it came back to me twice.
I bought this new in 1986 after two problematic race seasons on an eighth-hand, hand-me-down Bianchi that fit me poorly. This was my first new bike ever. When I went away to college, I perma-loaned it to my best friend. When he went away to law school, he left it at his parents house, and his evil mother put it out at the curb as a freebie. @#%^&@%^@#$^% No, seriously, she was a horrible person and not just because of the bike.
Twenty years later, I set about trying to replace my lost first love. I had a bunch of alerts set on Craigslist. After about two years of patience, I got a notification for a Batavus Course in NYC; I lived in Portland OR. I contacted the seller, put down a deposit, and bought my plane ticket. I was doubly surprised to find that it was my same bike, same serial number. The bike was in need of some TLC with a lot of paint damage, but was otherwise straight and solid.

I stripped it down and sent it to get repainted with a triple-pearl white. I knew I was going to use Nokon cabling, so I had them color match the pinstriping to the new housing.

Other changes:
- Velo Orange 165mm triple crank
- Velo Orange Grand Cru mirror finish headset
- Velo Orange Grand Cru brakes
- Nitto Grand Randonneur 46cm handlebars


When I moved onto my sailboat in 2013, I sold the bike because I couldn't stand the idea of subjecting this bike to the salt air environment. The buyer fell in love immediately, and I was happy that my first love was going to a good home.
Cut to November 2024... the woman who bought the bike got in touch and asked if I wanted my bike back. ABSOLUTELY! It was again in rough shape and poorly maintained, but nothing that couldn't be fixed in an afternoon with a couple beers and some good music. I'm not letting it go this time.
My partner works in a bike shop, and I get to ride all of the top shelf bikes they have. None of them feel like this. I steadfastly believe that modern bikes do everything better, but something is missing. Taking the Batavus out for a sunny day fast ride, it's easy to understand how vintage sports cars are so popular. These old machines might not be the best at cornering, accelerating, and braking, but they just feel so connected and visceral. The Reynolds 501, definitely an entry level tubeset, is flexy, but in all the right places. It feels like love.
Idling engines chap my ass. But TINSTAAFL. ~~Auto stop is terrible for engines; the majority of engine wear in passenger automobiles occurs at startup. Also, during auto stop, the catalytic converter cools down a bit, so emissions go up. More wear —> more emissions —> more waste.~~
Edit: For my rebuttal, I started digging into this. While the sources I found are still "auto technician says so," it looks like engines with auto-stop are built for more start-stop cycles. I was operating on outdated information. Automobile engines were/are typically designed for 100k to 150k starts. In trying to find more information about auto-stop, the overall consensus seems that auto-stop engines are designed for >300k starts. Moreover, there seem to be some accounts indicating that exhaust temperature is part of the auto-stop monitoring, which would make sense and keep the emissions controls running properly.
So, thanks to @borkborkbork, @0ops, and @Janx for prompting me to get updated information.
But as a bike commuter, auto stop was pleasant in traffic, at least until everyone suddenly started up again and then stomped on the pedal.
The wholesale gutting of all attempts at environmental protection is an interesting choice for the "protect the children" party. But even as an avid car hater, ~~I'm not sure this is a huge loss.~~