There’s an old saying in the world of professional kitchens: never trust a skinny chef. In today’s health-conscious society that rings less true than it once did, and as Michel Roux Jr pointed out in a recent interview, one ought only to trust a skinny chef, as a fat one is likely ‘sitting in his office with a bottle of wine and a plate of potatoes, rather than bouncing around the kitchen’. Yet, the logic holds up: a maker of things should show signs that they enjoy the things they make; that they have an interest in their profession beyond the fiscal; that they have passion.

Within minutes of meeting Bob Parlee at his framebuilding facility in Beverly, Massachusetts, it obvious he’s just such a man – one who lives his craft. Speaking softly with a hint of Baw-ston twang, Parlee exudes a measured quality more befitting a statesman or orator than a framebuilder. Yet his face and body tell a different story. He’s wiry and tanned like a cyclist should be, hands large and coarse like a craftsman’s – the tip of one finger conspicuously missing. Everything about him seems authentic, from his infrequent yet deliberate gestures to his analytical gaze. 

Standing in the office-cum-showroom of Parlee’s Beverly facility, it’s hard not to draw parallels between the man and the chronology of his frames adorning the walls. The first half are about as minimalist and true to classic bicycle form as you’ll find anywhere, but as the wall-mounted timeline progresses towards the present day the frames become steadily more flamboyant – in both finish and aerodynamic shape – yet remain equally subtle and meticulously finished.

None of these models, past or present, are inexpensive. The current crop runs anywhere from £3,000 to £7,000, and those are just the framesets. But, like their creator, they appear highly considered with a no-nonsense character. And as with Bob Parlee’s working life, there’s a common theme uniting them all: carbon fibre. 

Sea change

‘I’ve been building things my whole life,’ says Parlee as he leads us from the customer-facing office through to the airy workshop in which all of Parlee’s custom frames are still handmade. ‘I was never comfortable building things like houses, though. I was always more into complex shapes, so I guess that’s why I ended up working with boats.

‘Back then, in the 1970s, you could maybe get 12 knots [22kmh] out of a race boat, and you had these extreme boats that were trying to get to 36 knots [67kmh] but couldn’t get much past 30 [55kmh]. Then carbon fibre was introduced and suddenly you could build boats lighter,with stiffer hulls and centre boards, rudders, that kind of thing, and they could get up out of the water and hydroplane. Now 36 knots is commonplace. We were building these 36-foot long race boats, with these big 15-foot wings, and six of us could pick it up and walk around with it. Carbon fibre just changed the whole world.’

Clearly Parlee’s passion for boats remains. After disappearing into the back of the workshop he soon re-emerges with a large rudder that he explains he made for his own boat, because the stock part just didn’t live up to his expectations.

‘The thing bugged me – it had the most terrible shape to it, plus it was incredibly heavy,’ he says, lifting the rudder, which is nearly as tall as he is, high into the air.

World’s not your oysters

That kind of ‘if you don’t like it, make a better one’ attitude is exactly what kick-started Parlee into building bicycles. However, the transition from boats to bikes was far from straightforward. Despite a successful boat-building career spanning some 27 years that saw Parlee working on Olympic-class racing boats and America’s Cup yachts, the wave of high-end boating enthusiasm waned, leaving him at a loose end.

At first his attention turned to oyster farming, but when he lost his million-strong crop to a shellfish blight that swept along the New England shores, it was again time for a rethink.

‘I was spending a lot of time on bikes, doing a bit of racing, and I’d started to design aero shapes for TT bikes based on what I’d learned in hydrodynamics – water’s just like air, only thicker,’ says Parlee. ‘I introduced myself to some people at a company called KaZaK Composites, who were doing all this development stuff for military and aerospace. Back in the early space shuttle days they built an extendable arm for photographing the Earth from a shuttle. The founder, Jerry Fanucci, liked the idea of helping make something more accessible that people could buy, like a bicycle, so he was kind enough to give me access to his workspace and equipment.’

Parlee built his first bike at the facility in 1999, the round-tubed Z1, out of offcuts from KaZaK’s military tubing inventory, and was overjoyed at being able to ride it the 30km home ‘without it breaking’. By 2000 Parlee had gone full bore into bikes and set up Parlee Cycles, and by 2001 he’d sold his first frame.

‘I just went walking around Interbike [the Las Vegas tradeshow] carrying a Z1 on my shoulder. I got a lot of press for that. Then I get home and this guy calls me up and says, “I’ve heard about your bikes, what do I have to do to get one?” I tell him he’ll need to get measured for his size, and he says, “No problem, I’ve got 65 custom bikes already so I know my geometry, it’s nailed”, and sends me a cheque. I build it, then the next year I come out with a new bike, and he phones me up again and says he wants that one too.

‘He was my first customer, and since I’ve known him he must have bought 15 of our bikes. I guess he has a big enough house to store them all, but when does he get the time to ride them?’

That’s the sort of client any small-batch builder dreams of, yet it wasn’t selling bikes to enthusiasts that established Parlee. Rather, it was a fellow by the name of Tyler Hamilton.

Pro seal

Professional bike racing wasn’t always as it is now. Up until 2011 a rider could ride pretty much whatever bike they liked, within a few UCI guidelines. Today, those bikes have to be vetted and approved by the UCI (just look for the ‘UCI Approved’ sticker on a frame or fork), and must be available to be purchased by the public within an allotted timeframe (usually a year) after their debut. Thus riders like Greg LeMond famously appeared on rebranded titanium Merlins and prototype carbon fibre Calfees, and Hamilton was allowed to race one of Parlee’s frames.

‘Tyler lived not too far from me so I’d go riding with him on occasion, and one day I asked him if he’d like to try a bike. At first he trained on one, but he loved it so much we had one painted up in Team CSC colours and badged up as a Look, the team’s bike sponsor.

‘It was all going great, then in 2002 I’m watching the Giro and Tyler crashes. It looks like his bike’s failed and I think, “Man, I’ve killed Tyler Hamilton!” I called up his wife, Haven, and asked what happened and she said not to worry, it was the wheel that failed. To save weight they’d pulled out half the pawls in the freehub, so when he went to accelerate the wheel didn’t engage and he just went over the top. Somehow he finished the race, and shortly after a story started going around with pictures of the bike – which said “Look” on it – and the caption was “Look! It’s a Parlee”. It was great guerrilla marketing and it put us on the map.’

It certainly did nothing to harm Parlee’s reputation within CSC either. As a result of the exposure, other riders on the team adopted his bikes for racing too, and soon the management was knocking on Parlee’s door. Sadly though, it wasn’t to be. ‘At the time I’d only built 30 bikes, but the team wanted 165 and it just wasn’t possible,’ explains Parlee. ‘We weren’t, and still aren’t, a huge company, and we’d rather invest everything back into building better bikes.’

Infamy and skulduggery

Over the years Parlee has expanded its portfolio from just a single bike, the aforementioned Z1, to a range of 17 iterations from five model groups. In so doing it has cemented its position as one of the most desirable carbon fibre bike manufacturers going. Even Lance Armstrong owns one, bought somewhat infamously in 2013 in the wake of Lance-gate.

‘We didn’t know he’d purchased it,’ says Parlee. ‘The form came in from his bike shop, Mellow Johnny’s, and it didn’t have a name on it, which was a bit odd. Then Tom [Rodi, Parlee’s marketing manager] who’s a bit of a savant, looks at the geometry sheet and says, “I know where this is going.” So we guessed it in the end, but I think if Lance had come directly to me, I’d still have made it for him. It’s not the way I’d want to do business and I don’t condone the cheating, but really I’m just some schmo that likes building bikes.’

It might sound like a cliché, but hear Parlee say it and it’s hard not to believe him too. His honesty is almost disarming, and it’s present right down to Cyclist’s last question: just what did happen to the tip of his finger?

At this Parlee shrugs, and says, frankly, ‘I spent my whole life building boats and all that, so I could say I lost it in some professional accident. But really a little terrier dog bit it off.’

About the bike

Like Genesis, Mekk is another British brand, and its recent offerings have impressed us greatly. The Pinerolo AL SE 0.2 represents the second step on the ladder of the company’s four-bike range of aluminium-framed road bikes, and features a nine-speed Shimano Sora groupset. Mekk says, ‘We believe that just because a bike has a budget price tag it shouldn’t have a budget ride.’ We agree with the soundness of the principle, but the proof of that will be in the riding. Can the Pinerolo live up to its racy aspirations?

The spec

Frameset Rounded alloy tubing amplifies the sense of classic lines to go with the paint scheme. A near-horizontal top tube projects from a relatively squat 135mm head tube. An oversize down tube meets the substantial bottom bracket area, from which straight chainstays (so designed to eliminate losses along the drivetrain) jut towards the rear axle. Rack mounts are present and correct, giving this frame as much practicality as the Genesis. The big difference between the two bikes is in the frame geometry – the Mekk’s more aggressive 72.9° head angle and shorter head tube lend the bike a more agile feeling. A carbon fork graces the front end, with a bladed design that’s fabulously effective at damping vibrations. As with most bikes at this budget, the cabling is entirely external, and features barrel adjusters easily to hand for on-the-fly adjustments. 

Image 5 of 6

Image 5 of 6

Groupset It’s a bit of a mix and match affair, but it all gels well. Shimano’s nine-speed Sora set-up provides new riders with plenty of ratios and an 11-27 cassette ensures the jump between ratios is smaller than the Delta 10’s eight-speed 11-32 set-up. Mekk’s own-brand compact chainset performs the simple task of transferring power to the rear wheel with no fuss. Tektro’s workaday R315 brakes are good enough, while the action of the Sora shifters is that little bit more slick than Claris shifters. 

Finishing kit Mekk’s in-house finishing kit brand Saturae provides the ergonomically pleasing 420mm diameter compact drop handlebars. As with all budget bikes, simple alloy kit keeps the cost down – and providing it does its job, can really allow a good quality frame to shine. Perhaps the only area of the finishing kit that isn’t to our taste is the saddle, which is far too padded for us. 

Wheels Shimano’s RS501 wheels are actually better than the RS10s we’ve found on even £1,500 carbon bikes. They’re basic, alloy clinchers, used for nine-speed compatibility and low maintenance, and can take tyres up to 28c, for added comfort. Upgrading from the cheap Schwalbe tyres would improve not only rolling resistance but also confidence.

Image 3 of 6

Image 3 of 6

The ride

First impression On the face of it – or at least the first few miles of our test – the Pinerolo appears to have it all. For starters, it’s the looker of the bunch – high-gloss, classic red and white paint is classy. Next, its riding position is on the more committed side, meaning we’re able to attack and swoop downhill, and get low and aggressive on the drops. 

On the road Some beginner-focussed road bikes just do a good job of letting their riders get on with the simple pleasure of riding. Others, like this Pinerolo, provide a definite sense of excitement. There’s a lot to recommend the AL SE 0.2, not only for new riders but also for those of us who might be looking for a second bike for commuting or training duties. The way in which the alloy frame transmits power from pedal to rear wheel is surprising at this price mark – we found ourselves knocking out some full-on sprints on false flats just to revel in the performance. This build is also proof that, in the real world, most of the time, all you need are 18 gears, as long as the cassette is fairly close-ratio, as the Mekk’s 11-27 cogs are. It’s not featherlight enough to really attack long Alpine ascents, but it’s agile and willing enough to have a dig at some local KOMs. Vibrations are kept to a minimum, but they are there, although the front end is particularly well damped, no doubt assisted by the bladed carbon fork. 

Image 6 of 6

Image 6 of 6

Handling Change the saddle for something firmer and we’d gladly sit on the Mekk all day. But where this bike really takes us by the short and curlies is in its willingness to positively attack corners. Its steering geometry is on the sportier side, and coupled with a 997mm wheelbase, this does lend it some urgency in the turns. One of life’s great joys is braking hard for a downhill hairpin, hitting the apex and standing up out of the saddle to power down the descent in a big gear. The Pinerolo gives us this feeling, even if you need to apply the Tektro brakes a little earlier than some. But this isn’t simply a bike for those looking to go racing. Yes, it might make a decent criterium starter bike, but it’s also a good introduction to long-distance riding. Let’s be honest, most of us use our road bikes for just this purpose – however much the idea of racing appeals in our minds, it jars with the reality of our bank accounts and demands of our significant others. There’s no reason that four hours spent in the company of the Mekk on a sunny day couldn’t be your best – or first – ride of the summer. 

Geometry

Spec

'There is this great photo of Fabian Cancellara on the start line at the Giro d’Italia, looking under the handlebars of Pippo Pozzato’s bike,’ says Claudio Salomoni, Wilier’s international sales manager. ‘I love this picture, because Cancellara is so puzzled with the bike. He cannot work out where the Di2 box is hidden!’

The bike in question was this, the Wilier Cento 10 Air – or chen-toe deet-chae as the Italians say. It’s the sixth addition to the burgeoning Cento family, which until this summer was led by the Cento 1 Air. Like the 1 Air, the Cento 10 takes its design cues from angular NACA and Kamm tube profiling and low-slung seatstays, but the difference is about more than just a lick of paint and some new bars.

‘The fork and stays have been widened to make the bike faster,’ says Salomoni. ‘There are two ways you can look at aerodynamics on a bike: the track way, where everything is super-skinny and very close together, with the wheels nearly touching the frame; and the road bike, where you need clearances for wider tyres and brakes. 

Image 3 of 16

Image 3 of 16

‘On a track bike the gaps between the wheel and frame are so small almost no air can get through, which is good as this air would otherwise create areas of high pressure, which causes drag. Go a bit wider, like on a normal road bike, and the air can go anywhere, so you get more pressure and more drag. But go wider still and you start to reduce the pressure again, so it becomes more aero. So this is what we tried to do with the Cento 10. It’s a simple concept we learn in school!’

As such, the rear seatstays flare proud of the seat tube to create a wide gap between the wheel and the stays. Up front the gap between the legs of the integrated fork is also appreciably wider than most, so to accommodate these characteristics Wilier has employed direct-mount brakes fore and aft. 

Wilier claims this wide stance makes the Cento 10 Air 8% faster than the 1 Air. The new Alabarda handlebars also play a part, though Salomoni says Wilier doesn’t yet have the precise numbers to indicate by how much. 

Frank engineering

Like a slew of other brands, Wilier has gone down the one-piece stem-bar combo, cast in the in-vogue T shape. Viewed from the front, the Alabarda’s silhouette is wind-cheatingly thin, but from above it’s a mighty-looking piece that looks more like a jet wing than a bike handlebar.

A combination of proprietary spacers and a neat internal clamp means the ensemble sits gratifyingly flush which, given its size, lends itself nicely to housing the Di2 internals.

It’s a slick piece of engineering made all the more aesthetically pleasing by colour-matched graphics – each of the Cento’s four colourways has its own complementary bar. For those wishing to push the palette still further, Wilier will also be offering custom paint through its Infinitamente programme. 

The Cento 10 is essentially bigger than its forebear, yet it’s lighter – a claimed 990g for a medium frameset compared to 1,120g for the 1 Air. That’s as you might expect for a next-gen road bike – after all, when was the last time a manufacturer claimed its bike was heavier than before? However, Salomoni is refreshingly blunt about how such feats were achieved.

‘I tell you China is like the Silicon Valley of carbon, in that anything new comes from there. If you can show me an Italian factory that can make frames like they can in China, I want to know!

‘We achieve this new weight working with our factory to refine the lay-ups: how much carbon to use, where to overlap this piece, the orientation of the strands in that piece, and so on.’

Carbon copy

‘It has very little to do with the carbon fibre itself,’ Salomoni says. ‘Anyone who says they have access to special carbon is talking nonsense. We all have access to the same stuff, it is the lay-up where we save the weight, and where it gets incredibly complex to save even just a few grams.’

In this day and age one might question the absence of disc brakes on a bike such as the 10 Air. Salomoni, though, is yet to be convinced. ‘Disc brakes are not aero. Maybe with covers, yes, but the UCI does not allow this yet.’

For now we’re happy with the Cento 10 as is, direct-mount brakes and all. Our first ride in the Dolomites highlighted an incredibly adept road bike with the bonus of aero qualities. For more on our initial impressions of the Cento 10 Air, go to cyclist.co.uk/cento10, and look out for a full test in an upcoming issue.

The sixth addition to the Cento family, the Cento10 takes its design cues from angular Naca and Kamm tube profiling and low slung seat stays found on its predecessor, the Cento1 Air, but this is more than just a lick of paint and some new bars.

The frame has undergone a total reworking, the most obvious elements being the widened seat stays and fork, something Wilier claims helps make the Cento10 8% faster than the Cento1 Air. The idea is the extra-wide areas allow air to flow more easily between the wheels and frame, preventing areas of high-pressure that cause drag. Whatever the theory, in practice that means Wilier has had to opt for direct mount brakes to fit this extra width while maintaining tyre clearances. These not only look clean, but also have a tendency to perform just that little bit better than traditional callipers.

The seat stays have also been lowered, as far as UCI regulations permit (lest bikes start looking like the banned Y-frame designs of yesteryear from Lotus, Trek and Zipp). Again this aids speed, the less material facing the wind the better.

Side on the bike therefore cuts a similar silhouette to the 1 Air, except for one thing: the bars. Wilier has dubbed these the ‘Alabarda’ handlebars, and true to current industry form they are an integrated stem/bar combo with a narrow frontal area but, when viewed from above, are a wide T-shape. The ergonomics of the tops therefore won’t suit everybody, but the compact, shallow drops should be a hit with most.

There can’t be any complaints at the neatness of the cabling and hidden junction box that the Alabarda affords though; side or front there’s barely a cable or black box to be scene. Neither is there an inline cable adjuster for the front mech, as Wilier has tucked this away into a natty little integrated box in the down tube that’s as neat as it is clever.

All in, then, a very promising looking package, especially in the new livery, which unlike Wiliers past is mercifully free of acronyms declaring how integrated the fork is or how carbony the carbon is. Not that I’m retrospectively complaining.

On the up

I rode the Cento1 Air some time ago, and while I can’t remember the specifics, I do remember coming away thinking it was one stiff bike - rigid in pretty much all directions. So first thing out on the road I was struck by how forgiving the Cento10 felt.

Wilier has partnered with Ritchey in creating the seatpost, which has a flattened back to aid flex, and I’ve no doubt this must be a key factor. Yet I can’t help thinking placing the seatstays so low down has the added advantage of having more seat tube on show to flex too. Either way, the Cento10 immediately impressed with a comfortable ride, a feeling which didn’t let up. In fact it continued and morphed into something rather interesting.

Normally you can feel an aero bike up a climb but with the Cento10 there was no such problem

I was lucky enough to trial the Cento10 on some rather steep terrain in the Dolomites, where 45km costs you 1,600m of ascent, and it was only after arriving at the crest of a particularly vertical climb that I realised just what had happened – I’d forgotten I was riding an areo bike. Normally you can feel an aero bike up a climb, a bit of extra weight here, some slight flex in a thin frame there, but with the Cento10 there were no such things to report. That’s not to say it rode like a mountain goat (if anyone has actually ridden a mountain goat, do write in), but it felt entirely normal. It felt like a road bike, plain and simple.

Going back down the climb only exacerbated that feeling. The bike’s turn in through tight hairpins was sharp and accurate, its ability to hold long, low down arcs through fast turns highly dependable. Once again I was struck by just how much the Cento10 handled like a traditional road bike – it felt unfussy, composed and, above all else, very well balanced. Little flicks of hips took the bike merrily through corners, yet big wrenches on the bars or kicks with the pedals elicited the speed and power you’d expect without any flexing between the front and back of the frame.

If there’s one area I’ll have to reserve judgement on, it’s speed. The Dolomites were far too mountainous to discern the flat-road performance of the Cento10. I’d guess at it being pretty quick given my previous experience of the Cento1, and how much this bike shares in that DNA, but for a full report we’ll have to wait until Wilier can ship one over for long term testing.

wilier.com

Like all good road bikes, the Orca from Orbea – the 175 bike company from the Basque country (well, actually it started making a curious mix of guns then prams, only turning their hands to bikes in the 1930s) – broke cover a few months ago under the Cofidis team, covered in a spider-web print inspired by the paint used to protect the angles on a new car from spying lenses. 

However, today is the official launch and we’re in San Sebastian with Orbea, so just to whet your appetites here’s a few preliminary shots to digest before we get our hands on one this afternoon, and follow this up with a proper report.

Lighter, faster and betterer were all words that featured heavily in the presentation of the new bike this morning, along with the news that the Orca will now come in a much anticipated disc version, along with three levels of a rim brake frame.

Image 2 of 7

Image 2 of 7

First of these is the OME, a literal carbon copy of last year’s Orca, plus the revised OMP and OMR levels that will utilise all-new geometry, more aero research carried off by Orbea during R&D, as well as better construction techniques. All of this has allowed Orbea to create a bike it says is 80g lighter in the frame, now down to 795g (rim brake version), and 4 seconds faster per 10km in a wind speed of 40kmh, as well as supposedly handling better across different frame sizes due to its size-dependent fork trail.

Built up with some semi exotic parts, the complete Orca OMR bike is claimed to weigh as little as 5.6kg, and will retail at €6,999.

We are due to head out on a test ride shortly, and will update this article with more details and a first review as soon as we can.  

orbea.com

It turns out Orbea has been rather busy, and at its launch event in San Sebastian it unveiled not one but two new road bikes. Headlining was the flagship Orca, its all-out race bike, but sharing the bill was the all-new Avant, a ground-up redesign of Orbea’s endurance road offering.

Like the Orca, it’s available in different tiers of confusingly similar acronyms: OME and OMP. Essentially OME – Orbea Monocoque Evolution – is the cheapest, and starts out equipped with rim brakes at £1,349, then goes up to OMP – Orbea Monocoque Performance – with hydraulic disc brakes as standard. Unlike the Orca there is no OMR – Orbea Monocoque Racing – option, as that moniker is reserved for race bikes, and the Avant is aimed more at the sportive/distance market.

Confused? Us too. Anyway, without further ado, here we take a first spin on the OMP level Avant.

But what’s it do?

Product manager Joseba Arizaga introduced the Avant as being for ‘riders who want to set their own challenges and not race; everything is designed to help the rider go further and longer,’ and that proved pretty accurate. 

Image 7 of 10

Image 7 of 10

First off, everything felt solid and somewhat conservative, which is no bad thing: frills are for grandma’s toilet roll covers. Bolt-thru axles pin wheels to frame, and a BB386 bottom bracket was the meeting point for some chunky old tubes, including conspicuously asymmetric chainstays to cope with the extra, imbalanced braking forces of a disc brake. The headtube and downtube are requisitely oversized for strength and stiffness, while the seatstays and fork legs are deliberately spindly for that all important endurance aspect, comfort. On that note, the fork has been lengthened by 10mm to create a more upright riding position without the use of a gangly headtube or unsightly spacer stack. Endurance it maybe, but Arizaga and his team wanted the bike to look racy.

Second, the geometry was bang on for a distance machine, that is, stable at speeds across the board thanks to a longish wheelbase, and with a shorter reach and higher stack that endeared itself to a more upright body. Prawny racing tucks discouraged. That made for very favourable kilometres when cruising, yet the Avant had its moments higher up the rev range.

Unlike some other bikes in this category, the Avant is no barge. It might not swivel on a sixpence like the Orca, but it would definitely turn on an old fifty pence, and we found in all but the tightest spots handling was muted but dependable and accurate. It was also light in feel. It didn’t take much to mobilise the Avant or throw it in to a corner, and nor was tempo climbing an issue. At no point did the Avant feel like it was reluctant, from fast shallow drags to one 20% climb that would make the Lake District proud.

Because of this, our first impressions of the Avant were nought but good. It exceeded expectations for an endurance machine. Most buyers will probably appreciate this Ultegra Di2 setup, but already we can’t help thinking some more exotic wheels than the perfunctory Fulcrum Racing 5s would push the Avant further into ‘true all-rounder’ territory, and make it a more attractive build at this price. Still, it’s a cohesive bike with a refined character, which would suit all but the most demanding racers.

Orbea Avant M20i, £3,199, orbea.com

Ashmei Wind Jacket

We consider the windjacket the most versatile item in any cyclists wardrobe, more so than the gilet. Ashmei says its new windjacket is perfect for chilly mornings or windy days with a risk of showers. There's a mesh back to help moisture escape and it even packs down into its own pocket. The windjacket is part of a whole new 27-piece range from Ashmei and we think it's well worth a look.

£140, ashmei.com

Mountains: Epic Cycling Climbs by Michael Blann

Michael Blann's book Mountains: Epic cycling climbs has just been launched by publishers Thames & Hudson. The coffee table book is a mixture of Blann's photography alongside words from a host of cycling figures including Greg Lemond, Stephen Roche and Robert Millar, showcasing the most famous climbs of European bike racing culture. 

£34.95, michaelblann.com

Rapha Core long sleeve

The Rapha Core range launched earlier this year with a few choice items and its safe to say we were fans. Rapha has now expanded the core range to include a long sleeve jersey. It's 100% polyester, rather the more expensive SportWool offerings, but everything else suggests it should be just as high quality as the rest of the Rapha range. There's no tights though, which we feel is a bit of a misstep as tights and Core bibs will set you back another £240.

£85, rapha.cc

Santini Eureka

Many history books claim Archimedes jumped out of his bath exclaiming 'Eureka!' because he had just discovered a way to measure volume. There is an alternative theory that he had already discovered this and his bath water was in fact too hot, which would make the name of these Santini shorts rather apt. Thanks to the BeHot technology, the material in the Eureka shorts generate extra heat from your pedalling motion. Santini also claims that it retains this heat too, so should you stop for a puncture you won't freeze. Eureka indeed.

£125, santinisms.it

Specialized Roubaix

On the off chance you've been living in a cave, or leading a normal busy life away from the daily updates of the cycling industry, you may not be aware of the new Specialized Roubaix. Why should you be aware of it? Well Specialized has put a suspension unit in the steerer tube, dubbed it the FutureShock and simulatenously suggested it's the greatest thing since records began while also seeking to distance itself from the Cannondale HeadShok (which happened to be designed by the same guy). All that aside, we've ridden it and love it, so you can read more here:

From £1900, specialized.com

Cervélo is a brand that has long prided itself on its aerodynamics and general technology-driven outlook, and that's certainly evident here with the launch of a disc-braked version of its aero road bike, the S3. 

The new S3 Disc has a frame that is a claimed 40g lighter than the rim-brake version, with an 8% increase in head tube stiffness and a 9% increase in the bottom bracket stiffness. At a yaw angle of 15° the new bike saves a claimed 19 grams of drag, which Cervélo reckons translates to roughly around 2 watts.

There are three models of the S3 Disc available, defined by their associated groupsets: Shimano Ultegra, Ultegra Di2 or SRAM Red eTap, which retail at £4,249, £6,199 and £7,649 respectively. Each come with hydraulic braking systems from either FSA or SRAM, and an aero wheelset from either HED or Enve. The bikes also come kitted out with the new aero-friendly AB04 handlebar and SP17 seatpost too.

A commonality between the models is the use of thru-axles, as is the use of flatmount callipers, with Cervélo adopting two cemented standards for disc-braked bikes. Regular Cervélo technologies such as BBRight, whereby the non-drive side of the bottom bracket shell is made wider (and therefore stiffer) and a partial seat tube cut out for aerodynamics, remain present across the range - but there's also some updates. 

The fork is a claimed 19g faster than the standard S3 model thanks to an updated leg design with a more efficient airfoil shape. In the absence of rim brake necessities, the fork crotch has been raised too, which minimises the area of low pressure behind the crown,and the seat and chain stays have also been updated with lessons learned from the R3 Disc, making for a proposed stiffer back end. 

More to come when we get our hands on one for a review.

derby-cycle.com

As its name suggests, the Specialized Roubaix takes its cue from the mother of all endurance races, Paris-Roubaix, a race that famously pummels its riders with cobbles over a day’s hard riding. There’s also a sportive version of the event, the Paris-Roubaix Challenge, which many of you may be contemplating entering, along with 4,500 other amateur riders. But does the Roubaix SL4 Comp have what it takes in the comfort department, as well as the ability to rattle along at pace over such gruelling terrain?

To read our first ride review of the new 2017 model, click here: Specialized Roubaix 2017 first ride review

Frameset

The Zertz inserts in the seatstays and fork were an innovation in 2004 and are still doing their comfort-giving thing brilliantly.

Zertz vibration-damping rubber inserts in the carbon fork and seatstays are intended to isolate the rider from jarring road surfaces but not at the expense of feel. The FACT carbon frame retains a level of stiffness you’d expect from a thoroughbred race bike, and a wide down tube extends from the relatively short 145mm head tube to meet a BB30 bottom bracket which provides excellent transfer of power. Meanwhile, an asymmetric seat tube, beefed up on the non-drive side, counters any potential flexing forces when you’re putting watts to the ground.

A wheelbase of 990mm is slap-bang in the sweet spot for endurance riding, providing enough stability to inspire confidence while still short enough to provide excitement and responsiveness in the corners. A head angle of 72.4° supplies a good balance of sure-footedness and agility.

Groupset

The Di2 front mech gives a satisfying whirr as it shifts gear

By combining Shimano’s 11-speed Ultegra Di2 shifters and derailleurs with a 105 chain and cassette, Specialized has brought high-end electronic shifting to the masses at a surprisingly keen price. A 50/34 chainset and 11-32 cassette supplies the rider with a wide enough spread of gear ratios to conquer the toughest of climbs. Shimano 105 brakes are as impressive as ever, with good initial bite and well-modulated performance that means you can leave your braking late for downhill hairpins.

Finishing kit

The CG-R - or 'Cobble Gobbler' - seatpost is designed for nullifying shocks from below

The highlight here is the 27.2mm carbon CG-R seatpost with its rubberised insert at the top. Predictably, this lessens the effect of poor road surfaces, but perhaps robs a little feel for what’s happening beneath your rear end. It’s topped with a near-perfect Body Geometry Phenom saddle. Own-brand 42cm compact-drop alloy bars flex enough to protect wrists and fingers from numbness on the worst roads.

Wheels

Fulcrum’s Racing S-19 wheels aren’t the lightest at 3.06kg, including cassette, quick-release skewers and tyres. However, the real winners of this package are the 26c tyres themselves. Rolling on much lower pressures than required by a standard 23, they smooth the ride, absorb road imperfections admirably, and give stacks of cornering confidence. And they stayed puncture-free throughout our entire test. There’s even clearance for sizes up to 28c.

The ride

As soon as we clasped our hands around the deeply padded bar tape, we knew the ride would be comfortable at both ends. Indeed, with a miserly 85psi in the Specialized’s 26c tyres, within two miles of our test loop it was clear that those inserts in the stays and fork are more than just a gimmick. Initial impressions from the SL4 Roubaix are of a smooth ride that you’d happily stay on until the sun goes down. Or until the Di2 battery runs out of charge – whichever comes sooner.

Comfort levels put this in the premier league of endurance road bikes, with nothing our local roads could throw at it getting in the way of pure riding enjoyment. The only thing holding it back on the hills is its all-up bulk of 8.44kg, which shows as the gradients increase – although the 11-32 cassette gives you the best possible chance of selecting an appropriate gear, and on rolling roads and flatter terrain, it’s going to take some beating when it comes to high-speed mile-munching.

Shimano’s electronic shifting is faultless – it flatters even cack-handed shifts under load, and provides a space-age soundtrack with its ‘zipping’ noise as the rear mech shifts across the cassette.

Throw the Roubaix into a downhill sweeper and it surprises with its willingness to carve through at speed. It retains a direct feeling when your riding becomes more focused, not in the least tempered by its vibration-absorbing technology. If anything, the frame inserts flatter, even in high-speed cornering, taking any harshness out of small bumps and allowing you to get on with the business of hammering out of turns in a 50x11 gear. Composure is there in abundance, aided by an easy-going head angle and wide tyres. As with most bikes under £4,000, though, the first thing to go would be the wheels. If you’re planning to ride across northern France, we’ve no doubt they’d prove durable and dependable. But for sprint efforts approaching town signs, they’re a little on the portly side and unwilling to spin up as quickly as we asked. All-day comfortable when shod with Specialized’s excellent Turbo Pro tyres, but the weak link in the build.

Geometry

Spec

Aren’t we a greedy bunch? ‘Dear manufacturer, if it’s not too much trouble, we’d like a bike that’s super stiff, mega light, crazy fast, über comfy and surefooted enough to never jangle our nerves, please. Oh, and it would be nice if we could take it on the occasional off-road jaunt. With love, cyclists everywhere. PS. If there are any moons on sticks lying about that you could throw in we’d appreciate that too.’

As little as five years ago engineers would have laughed themselves off their chairs at the mere suggestion of such far-fetched notions. Not any more. Now they’re more likely to respond by pushing forward a pile of sketches and saying, ‘Well, funny you should mention that…’

Truthfully, we have never been closer to the prospect of a bike that will perform well in every way. 

Just last issue I spoke of the new Trek Domane in just those terms, and this issue we open with news of the latest Specialized Roubaix, which also makes some seriously bold promises. But enough about other brands – what has Canyon been busy with? Ladies and gentleman, we present the Endurace CF SLX.

Image 5 of 8

Image 5 of 8

New beginnings

The Endurace range is a completely redesigned platform for Canyon’s endurance line-up, and most noticeably it’s the German brand’s first foray into disc brakes on the road. It’s clear from the name that Canyon is aiming this bike at riders looking to take on longer distances than, say, a crit race, but for whom performance and speed are still high on the agenda.

To achieve this it’s looked to build on tried and tested ideas taken from its current bikes, adding in some completely new features to deliver the total package. And it doesn’t disappoint.

First off, the Endurace is based around a less aggressive riding position. A taller front end creates roughly 10mm more stack height and 8mm less reach than an equivalent-sized Canyon Ultimate CF SLX.

It’s not immediately obvious from the geometry chart where exactly this has come from. That’s because Canyon has rather neatly built in a bit of the additional front end height in a taller fork design.

There are a few extra millimetres on the head tube too, but not to the extent of creating an unsightly gate-like front end. This taller, shorter position hasn’t dampened the Endurace’s spirited handling either – Canyon has achieved a remarkable equilibrium between stability at speed and agility once you tip the bike into a tight apex. 

We sample the best roads that Exmoor has to offer on the Canyon Endurace CF SLX 9.0 SL

The Endurace felt capable of clinging to chosen lines with limpet adherence, even if the Mavic Yksion Pro tyres were at times less than dependable.

Staying with the front end, the full carbon one-piece H31 Ergocockpit is clearly a departure from what we’ve seen in the past in the endurance category. It certainly adds to the overall racy aesthetic, but more importantly it partners with some selective tube re-profiling to ensure the Endurace cuts a slick silhouette. Canyon doesn’t see aero gains as purely the preserve of time-trial riders, and I agree. I’ve slogged my way around enough Alpine sportives to know that energy saved is speed gained.

That said, one-piece cockpits do inhibit adjustment or fine-tuning of your body position, so the shape has to work for you. 

It looks as if Canyon has simply lifted the cockpit from its top end Aeroad models, but the H31 is specific to the Endurace range with a different carbon lay-up, which Canyon suggests offers 10% more vertical compliance and a more compact shape with a slight (6°) backsweep. 

It’s a lot more forgiving than I expected, given the sizable hunk of carbon your fingers are wrapped around. In fact the increased surface area created by the aero-style bars actually spreads the load on your palms, and road shocks felt better dissipated as a result.

Happily, despite this added compliance there was no sign of unwanted flex when grabbing a fistful of drops in a sprint. No doubt the H31’s overall shape helps, but most likely the carbon lay-up is the biggest factor.

Image 8 of 8

Image 8 of 8

Front to back

Which end of the bike influences the rider’s sensation of comfort more? The answer depends on who you talk to. I’m of the opinion you need both to work in harmony, or a bike can feel unbalanced, and it seems Canyon agrees.

Helping smooth things out at the rear of the Endurace is an innovation that Canyon pioneered several years ago, namely the VCLS split seatpost. The 2.0 version here builds on the original, offering increased layback to further optimise its ability to flex under load. And to truly maximise the potential of this carbon leaf spring design, Canyon has used another neat trick – instead of clamping the post in the traditional location where it exits the frame, the Endurace clamps it around 110mm lower down, inside the seat tube. 

Above this point the seatpost sits in a rubber sleeve to seal it off from dirt and water ingress and prevent it from rattling, while crucially giving the post room to bend rearwards. It’s a win-win – you get a longer lever to actuate flex, plus more post available to deliver it. 

The success of this design became apparent when I encountered a speed bump just metres into my first ride. The post duly flexed, taking the sting out of the impact and ultimately cossetting my derriere. This happens across a range of different situations, from low-level road buzz to rough surfaces to potholes, and is thus extremely welcome. Importantly, though, the seat does not move so far as to adversely influence pedalling or riding position.

Image 7 of 8

Image 7 of 8

Praise upon praise

Overall the Endurace impressed with the level of comfort it offered without compromising performance. There’s still a bias in that the rear offers more ‘give’ than the front end, but otherwise the Endurace is a well balanced machine and no aerodynamic slouch – I managed some of my fastest averages around routes I’ve been thrashing for years. Plus I spent a good chunk of time riding this bike in Exmoor, where it seems there’s a 25% incline around every corner. Those corners were typically accompanied by 100% chance of rain too, which tested both man and machine to the full. At least one of the two delivered. 

This 56cm bike weighed in at 7.4kg, which is definitely at the sharp end for a disc bike with 28mm tyres. While we’re on the subject of tyres, 28s are by no means the maximum the Endurace will accept. I didn’t get a chance to try it with a 30mm or even 32mm tyre, but I daresay it would fine-tune the ride feel even more, especially if you did fancy being a little more adventurous with terrain, which I think with a different tyre choice you could be.

Grip, rolling resistance and cushioning are to an extent entirely within your control, adding yet more versatility to an already superb bike.

Big Ben chimes at the start of the 6 o’clock news. You turn off the radio, put down your file, remove the stub of pencil from behind your ear, rouse the Jack Russell from his bed, glance at your ‘Oscar’ from the Bespoked Awards, and lock up.

It’s the end of another fulfilling day spent crafting unique, exquisitely finished bike frames for discerning customers. You sling your leg over the top tube and pedal home. Life has never been so good…

Or maybe… you wake in a cold sweat. The order book is bare, the landlord wants the rent for your workshop, and your one client spends an hour a day on the phone changing the details of the frame he’s commissioned.

Your legs ache from countless hours on your feet, and if you do manage to find a few moments in your day to escape the brazing torch, you spend it stuck behind a laptop answering emails and driving your social media in the desperate hope of securing another order. But which of those two scenarios is closer to the reality of life as a custom framebuilder?  

Cooking up a career

Matthew Sowter was working as a chef when he decided to change direction and pursue his dream of becoming a framebuilder. Already a keen cyclist, the opportunity to mix business with pleasure proved irresistible.

‘I’d reached a turning point in my life where I was unsatisfied with my daily routine, so I decided to bring my love of bicycles to the forefront and get my hands dirty by creating a tangible object,’ says Sowter. He enrolled at technical college to learn how to weld, then got a job at Enigma Bicycle Works welding steel frames. He stayed for two years, ‘making mistakes on someone else’s time’, before going it alone and establishing Saffron Frameworks.

Sowter swiftly discovered that his new job involved a lot more than a workbench and tools. ‘In a six-day week I was spending four days a week doing business stuff, and a very small amount of time doing framebuilding,’ he recalls. With the order book healthy, he now employs an assistant, Andy Matthews, to help with the administration.

‘I was surprised when I started how much work there was for me,’ says Matthews. ‘I was doing six or seven-day weeks and working late, until we put a few systems into place. Now I’ve managed to cut back to four days a week.’

It’s a sobering reminder of the time demanded by the dull but vital side of running a small business. Nor is it an easy life in the workshop. ‘It’s hard graft and long hours,’ says Sowter. ‘I start at 7.30am and finish anywhere between 6 and 8pm. I try to restrict that to five days a week, but I end up working one or two Saturdays. There have been times when I have worked every day for a month, sometimes doing 16 to 18 hours a day. Physically it’s tough – I’ve spent most of my working life on my feet.’

Oh, and then there’s the money. Having swapped braising for brazing, Sowter earns ‘a hell of a lot less than at my last job as a chef’, and his kitchen work came with a guaranteed salary. ‘This is a very difficult industry to be self-employed in. The financial reward is pretty low.’ 

If this all sounds like a cue for the string section to start tuning up, there’s unfettered enthusiasm in Sowter’s voice as he describes the upsides of his new career. ‘What I’ve found really enjoyable is the interaction with the rider and going through the process with them,’ he says. ‘The majority ride off on a bike that they have put something into and that gives them a lot of joy, and it’s great to be making something that someone really wants.’

Crime pays

It was a robbery that spurred Caren Hartley into building bikes. She’d been making a living as a jeweller and large-scale metal sculptor, but had become jaded by the art world. Rather than working on her career, she was avoiding it by spending as much time as possible on her bike. ‘I wanted a change, but I still wanted to make things,’ she says. ‘Then I found out that people were still making bikes in the UK.’

She started by helping out in the workshop shared by Sowter and Jake Rusby, of Rusby Cycles, to learn skills and see if it was work she would like. Her path into framebuilding as a living, however, sprang from an unlikely source. ‘I had been talking about helping Matt and Jake when a good friend had her bike stolen. She had the money for a new one, said, ‘I believe in you,’ and paid for me to go on a framebuilding course at The Bicycle Academy.’

Six months later she secured her first commission. The world of framebuilding, however, has not turned out to be a promised land of milk and honey. In return for a 60-plus hour week and a steady supply of orders, she candidly suggests an annual salary of about £20,000 is achievable. 

‘I live on a boat, which I own, and live quite frugally, so nearly everything I have earned from the business I’ve been able to reinvest in tools,’ says Hartley. ‘I had quite a lot of workshop tools already, but then I spent about £1,000 straight away to have the right files, build a bench and so on. To make a bike quickly you need quite a lot of tools and they cost a lot of money. Plus, in London, having the space to do this is one of the biggest expenses.’

Nor has she found any shortcuts in creating a bespoke bike: ‘It takes such a long time to make a frame – about 80 hours – and trying to charge for that time is quite difficult.’ 

On the upside, her fears that making the same thing over and over would be boring have proved unfounded. Her custom builds keep commissions fresh, and she finds genuine enjoyment in the process of trying to make each frame different while developing a signature style.

‘It’s also nice that bikes are objects that are used, that people go out and ride them and have a relationship with them,’ she says.

The second coming

‘When we started in the 1980s there were 200-plus frame builders in Britain,’ says Rob Wade, who has worked on and off for Swallow Bikes since 1983. ‘If you wanted a decent bike in those days, you had it built. By 2004 there were fewer than 10 framebuilders.’ His experience reveals how difficult it can be to keep a business in the black.

Wade remembers the bottom falling out of the hand-built frame market in the 1990s, forcing him and his business partner Peter Bird to find other jobs in the bike industry. They only resumed manufacturing in 2012, this time as part of a larger retail business, which also sells mass-produced bikes and delivers framebuilding courses.

‘To make it as a framebuilder you need to build about 30 bikes a year, at an average selling price of £4,000,’ says Wade. ‘That will give you a turnover of £120,000. Take out renting a small workshop for £500 a month, all your raw materials, plus heating, lighting and other overheads, and that leaves just about enough to take out a living wage.’

He’s delighted to see the resurrection of bespoke bike building, but draws a clear distinction between those who have done the hard yards learning and polishing their skills and newcomers who do a week-long course and call themselves framebuilders.

‘There are a lot of people who will make a very pretty frame and post it on Instagram, but it takes you six to 12 frames to learn how to build, and then you spend the rest of your life honing the skill,’ says Wade. ‘We will do our utmost to help framebuilders who are doing it as a proper commercial venture, but the people who are dabbling at it have to wise up to the fact that the business is hard, it’s long hours, and it’s not much money.’

First birthday bikes

Basking under the halo of three Bespoked 2016 awards, Quirk Cycles is only a year old. Rob Quirk was working as an artist when he took the plunge into framebuilding.

‘I’d been wanting to do a framebuilding course for quite a while, and had invested a lot of energy into designing a UK-manufactured carbon monocoque frame, which was eventually shelved,’ he says. ‘At the time I had a Cervélo R3, and I thought that would be the bike, but it wasn’t, and I wasn’t quite sure what it was missing. So I ended up selling it and with the money I went on a framebuilding course at The Bicycle Academy, because steel as a material offered an immediacy of production and set-up that carbon didn’t. After riding my first frame, I never looked back.’ 

A combination of savings and start-up funding from the Government helped him get the business off the ground, but it took six months to find a workshop in London. Building Bloqs is a ‘pay as you go’ workshop, a large, shared space, which spared Quirk the need to invest in machinery, gases, lathes and a paint booth. Even his jig is borrowed.

Sharing the workshop with blacksmiths and metal fabricators presents a valuable opportunity to share skills, but marketing is as important as manufacturing. Quirk is building awareness via Team Quirk – himself plus a pair of sponsored riders who race on Quirk bikes. Their success and social media activity has helped to bring in orders.

‘One of the hardest things is not knowing when your next deposit and order will come in,’ he says. ‘You have to make these bikes objects of desire. You do try to offer details that make a frame more special, but the client is also investing in you as a person as much as they are buying a frame.’ 

The launch pad

Quirk’s alma mater, The Bike Academy in Frome, Somerset, is only four years old, but has already established a glowing reputation. Since inception, one of its former students has won Best New Builder at Bespoked every year, and in 2016 its alumni picked up 20 awards. The company was set up by design engineer Andrew Denham, who had become disillusioned with his work in the aerospace and off-shore oil and gas industries. He was also distinctly unimpressed with the framebuilding courses available at the time. 

‘I found it thoroughly disengaging because people were saying, “You can build a bike, but only if it’s like this,”’ he recalls. ‘And, “We can’t really teach you, but you can have a hand in doing it,” or, “This bit we can’t teach you because it’s too difficult.” Getting people to copy you isn’t teaching – it’s monkey-see, monkey-do at best. If instruction and teaching are the same, people who buy Ikea furniture could consider themselves to be furniture makers.’

Raising £40,000 in six days through crowd-funding, he set up The Bicycle Academy in 2012, with a mission to transform the way the trade is taught. He employed a framebuilder to teach him, and then deconstructed the various processes involved in building a bike so he could piece them back together and pass on those skills. More than 500 students have now passed through The Academy’s doors, giving Denham an insight into the growing interest in hand-built frames. 

‘When they reach their mid-twenties, people don’t feel their life is as nourishing as they thought it would be. It’s a quarter-life crisis. There are many jobs in which people do not engage in anything that feels tangible. So they want to carve a spoon, bake bread… or make a bike,’ he says.

Turning this into a career, however, is infernally difficult, and Denham is planning to expand the courses offered by The Bicycle Academy to include modules on how to run a small business. ‘Within framebuilding there’s a sense that making money is bad, but validity is not through hardship – it’s through the quality of workmanship,’ he says. ‘Being poor doesn’t make you a better framebuilder.

‘Being commercially capable is down to your ability to run a business, to market yourself, manage stock, deal with overheads, plan cashflow and so on,’ he adds. ‘None of these things are insurmountable, but being sufficiently good at all of them concurrently is very challenging.’ 

It all comes together

Tom Donhou picks up the phone at his Donhou Bicycles workshop in Hackney Wick, London, and in the background his cocker spaniel, Meli, barks. He really does have a dog at work, a pet who runs alongside him as he pedals through the Olympic park on his commute. With a 10-month lead time on new orders, has Cyclist finally found the framebuilder who truly lives the dream?

Donhou’s eureka moment occurred at the far end of the Gobi Desert, during a nine-month solo cycling expedition. The solitude of the adventure afforded him countless hours to reimagine the bike he was riding, and he realised that the only way for his perfect frame to become a reality would be to make it himself.

Years later, his dream bike is still on the backburner, delayed by demand for his drool-inducing custom builds. He’s one of the few framebuilders who has scaled up his business, albeit modestly, by launching a range of stock frames, called Signature Steel. Sales of Donhou bespoke bikes still outnumber the stock frames two-to-one, and his fingerprints (wiped clean, naturally) are all over every frame that leaves the shop.

‘I’ve gone from working 24/7 to coming in at 9 o’clock and going home at 7.30pm, and I’ve stopped myself working at weekends now,’ he says. ‘But there are still only two of us building frames, and my hands still touch every process of the build. It’s still me doing the bulk of the work.

‘People come to you because they’re after your level of perfectionism and finish, and it’s difficult to scale that. You can’t clone yourself. I’m trying to develop another model in the Signature Steel range, but that has to fit around the custom builds in the workshop.’

Formerly a product designer creating everything from toys to perfume bottles, Donhou has few regrets about his change in career.

‘It would be nice to grow a little bigger, work normal hours and have a decent wage, and it sucks that I don’t get to ride as much as I want,’ he says. ‘Framebuilding will make you rich in the heart and poor in the pocket.’

Hartley Cycles Pocket Rocket

This eye-catching bike is designed around a 650c wheelset for a shorter rider. The smaller wheelset allows the entire frame to be scaled down, ensuring a better-handling bike, a saddle-to-handlebar drop that allows for a more confortable position, and aesthetically keeping everything in proportion. hartleycycles.com

Swallow Bespoke

There’s a mix of the traditional and state-of-the-art in this custom-made frame, with steel tubes, beautiful finishing touches, ENVE carbon bars and Campagnolo EPS electric gears. bicycles-by-design.co.uk

Saffron Frameworks Ian’s XCR Seascape

A mesmerising paint scheme of gulls, based on the client’s favourite album cover, finishes this staggeringly beautiful bike. It’s made from Columbus XCr stainless steel, mirror-polished to shine through the layers of paint as birds in flight. The bike won the Outstanding Design Award at Bespoked 2016. saffronframeworks.com

Donhou Dazzle

"The idea behind dazzle is that it breaks up the lines of the ship so that an enemy couldn’t focus or gauge speed and distance while sighting their gun. Taking this concept and applying it to a bicycle frame, we worked up the exploded check pattern to confuse the eye.
The paint design includes some exposed areas of stainless steel and fillet brazing, allowing the craftsmanship underneath to come through also." - Tom Donhou. donhoubicycles.com

Learn the ropes

Where can you find inspiration and instruction in the art of framebuilding?

The Bicycle Academy - Frome, Somerset

A seven-day course in which you will build a bike and learn the skills to make frames on your own. The Academy has spawned several award-winning framebuilders. thebicycleacademy.org

Bicycles By Design - Coalport, Shropshire

A week’s one-on-one tuition designing then building your own frame, with two of the most experienced frame builders in the country.
bicycles-by-design.co.uk

Dave Yates Cycles - Coningsby, Lincolnshire

A veteran of almost 12,000 frames, Dave has been teaching for a decade. daveyatescycles.co.uk

Enigma Frame Building Academy - Hailsham, East Sussex

The home of highly desirable steel and titanium bikes has its own academy where a five-day course will see you design and build your own frame. enigmabikes.com

Downland Cycles - Canterbury, Kent

Join a six, eight or 11-day course, stay on site in a bunkhouse (£42 full board) and finish with your very own fillet brazed or lugged frame. downlandcycles.co.uk

Bespoked - Bristol

Chat to framebuilders and get a closer look at their creations at the Bespoked UK Handmade Bicycle Show in Bristol. The next event takes place 7th-9th April 2017. bespoked.cc

The North American Handmade Bicycle Show - Utah, US

Hop over to Utah for arguably the world’s leading handmade bike show from 10th-12th March next year. handmadebicycleshow.com

Terry Dolan’s pedigree more or less ensures his firm doesn’t turn out bad bikes. The Dolan Ares SL is aimed squarely at ‘racing and fast sportive riding’, with racy geometry and a stiff carbon frame. Specced out with the quickest wheels of the four bikes we tested, and still coming in below our budget of £2,700, it’s a very tempting prospect – standard Di2 builds start at £2,500, and a full custom build is available, too, via the online bike configuration tool. Plus, if you wanted to build your own, the frameset costs an appealing £950.

Frameset 

The Ares features semi-aero tube profiles, meeting at the junction of down tube and seat tube in an expanse of bare carbon weave that suggests serious power transfer. There’s no denying this frameset is decidedly eye catching, although the finish isn’t perfect, which detracts slightly from an otherwise premium feel from this rapid and responsive chassis. Short, flared chainstays project from the bottom bracket, while the seatstays intersect with the rear of the top tube, arching either side of the tapered seat tube. A mid-height 165mm head tube makes getting either an aggressive or relaxed riding position easy work, too. The cabling is internally routed, and the frame is also compatible with Campagnolo’s EPS electronic shifting system.  

Groupset 

Dolan adopts a unified approach, with Shimano Ultegra kit throughout. The chainset is a 50/34 compact set-up, but in matching this to an 11-25 Ultegra cassette, Dolan is offering a similar range to the 52/36 and 11-28 set-up of the Canyon. Ultegra Di2 shifters are excellent, of course. That chain won’t be to everyone’s taste, but we reckon it adds something special to the build.

Finishing kit 

Top-notch alloy 420mm handlebars and 120mm stem from Deda’s Zero 100 kit offer a comfortable ride over most road surfaces, while 30mm of headset spacers offer plenty of scope for height adjustment. The 31.8mm carbon seatpost performs very well, while the highlight for us is Selle Italia’s very comfortable perch. 

Wheels 

Mavic Cosmic Pro carbon clinchers on a sub-£2,700 carbon bike is a pleasant surprise. This £895 wheelset has a 60mm deep carbon rim and asymmetric spoke lacing design to account for torsional pedalling forces. They come with Mavic’s very good Griplink/Powerlink tyres, in 25c but there’s clearance in the frame to go wider, for even better comfort and confidence.

The ride

It’s immediately obvious that the Dolan is supremely stable as we hammer downhill on the opening mile of our test loop in the big ring. On a clear road we try to zig-zag quickly across our lane in an attempt to provoke misbehaviour from the set-up. It’s solid, but also exceptionally agile.

The Ares SL offers a fair amount more comfort than we might have expected. Even the wider diameter carbon post copes admirably with road buzz, aided by a fairly flexible Selle Italia Flite saddle. The compact nature of the frame ensures a fair amount of seatpost is exposed, too, which helps to isolate vibration. At the front, comfortable Deda Zero 100 bars handle their duties admirably, flexy enough to give wrists an easy time, yet stiff enough to promote confidence sprinting on the drops and pointing the Ares SL down some quick direction changes on our favourite local descent.

As you might expect from the ‘SL’ moniker, this is no heavyweight cruiser, either – at 7.58kg is has an assured feel on any climb, despite a close-ratio 11-25 cassette. Combined with a compact, 50/34 chainset, we were never in need of a smaller gear, and the lightness of the package makes up for what you might be losing in not having a 28-tooth sprocket. In fact, knowing you’ve only a 25 to fall back on encourages out of the saddle climbing, and some big efforts where normally we’d tend to sit and spin. Talking of power, the extremely stiff frame does allow you to positively wallop the Dolan, whether on longer climbs, flat roads or – even better – small crests on rolling roads, where sprints for the summits become addictive. Shimano’s Di2 shifting works flawlessly on this terrain, slotting home the next gear for seamless sprint efforts.

The amount of feedback available through the bare-carbon frame is impressive, and the good manners of the 60mm deep section Mavic Cosmic Pro Carbon wheels conspire with the chassis to bring out our competitive side, carving through downhill turns with late braking and big angles of lean. While the wheels do spin up quickly enough, they’re not the fastest to get up to speed. However, as with a lot of aero rims, their trump card is the way they allow you to hold on to your speed once you’re above 20mph. This bike allows you to fantasise about being in a break at the front of the race, and really does flatter your abilities in that respect. There’s plenty of scope to adjust your riding position with headset spacers, and the 165mm headtube contributes to a day-long comfortable platform, should the need to hammer your next century ride not be a priority.

Geometry

Spec

German direct-sales firm Canyon offers the Ultimate CF SL as a more affordable alternative to its even lighter SLX range. The (deep breath…) Canyon Ultimate CF SL 9.0 Di2 is particularly well specced for the money, featuring not only electronic gearing but an excellent set of wheels in the shape of Mavic’s Ksyrium Elites. If you’ve already got suitable wheels and components lying around and fancy building your own bike, then Canyon will even sell you a frameset-only option for just £749. What a time to be alive!

Frameset 

Canyon’s Ultimate CF SL carbon frameset differs from the higher-end CF SLX frame by virtue of its carbon lay-up. It still carries identical geometry to the bikes raced by WorldTour teams Movistar and Katusha. Canyon claims a weight of 1.235kg for the frame and fork, which marks them out as a fairly svelte combination.  The One One Four SLX fork is a race-spec frame component that has been designed to isolate you from the tarmac’s bigger imperfections. The seatstays pass either side of the seat tube to form a wide connection with the top tube, which Canyon says provides a stiff junction but also sufficient flex to keep you comfortable for longer. Even the entry points of the internal Di2 cables is something to shout about - their sharp angle designed to prevent frame rub. 

Groupset 

No corners have been cut in specifying the Canyon’s Ultegra Di2 groupset, from shifters and front/rear mechs through chainset, cassette and excellent brakes. The biggest gear of 52x11 is plenty for even the biggest sprinter or downhill daredevil, while a smallest ratio of 36x28 should be enough to propel you up all but the longest and most vicious inclines.

Finishing kit 

Canyon’s own-brand kit is used throughout and it’s good quality aluminium bunch. The H17 Ergo alloy handlebars offer a comfortable short drop that allowed us to get low and aggressive in relative comfort. We’re also big fans of the CF SL’s Fizik Antares saddle, for its relatively forgiving construction, flat perch and suede-effect edges that resist slip. It’s fixed to the top of Canyon’s effective 27.2mm carbon seatpost, which has been tuned to make the ride as comfortable as possible.

Wheels 

When we’re testing lower-priced bikes with heavy but sturdy wheelsets, we’ll often suggest an upgrade to Mavic’s Ksyrium Elite wheels. Here, they come as standard. The matching Mavic Pro Griplink and Powerlink tyres are 25mm in diameter, instill big confidence and enforce the overall feeling of smoothness in the ride. Much better than the Mavic tyres of a few years ago that were famous for their lack of grip in the wet.

The ride

It stands to reason that light bikes with light riders descend slower than an equivalent bike with a heavier pilot. Gravity, innit? But we weren’t hampered by the Canyon’s lack of bulk at the downhill outset of our ride, the electronic shifting keeping our cadence as high as possible as quickly as possible, in as tall a gear as possible. Progress was rapid and seamless. And that’s before we’d even hit a climb…

We’ve ridden many incarnations of Canyon’s super-light ‘Ultimate’ series over our years of testing, and each of them is a bike we’d happily take to the Pyrenees for a week. This version does not disappoint. There are many bikes that stand up to a hard day in the saddle, but this one is in the premier league of comfortable climbers. With 25c tyres, the extra comfort that comes from bump-taming wider rubber is allied to the VCLS (vertical compliance, lateral stiffness) seatpost, which eliminates virtually all harshness from the road.

Thin seatstays at the rear and a narrow, carbon fork out front help to dial out any residual vibration. Even without Di2, the Ultimate CF flies up hills with ease, but the addition of electronic shifting makes finding the right gear from the 11-28 Ultegra cassette even easier, whether sprinting on the flat or heaving yourself up a sizeable climb. Electronic shifting makes this great bike truly superb. The 52/36 chainset offers an almost perfect combination of gears when matched to an 11-28 block. The Mavic Ksyrium Elite wheelset is a good compromise between speed and durability, with no brake rub in evidence.

It’s not all about the climbing, however. The Canyon instills huge amounts of confidence in its ability to take corners downhill, or winding country lanes on the flat. It’s seemingly unflappable - kept stable thanks to a head angle that’s on the relaxed side, and a wheelbase that keeps it all in check. We ran Mavic’s front and rear wheel-specific 25c tyres at 85psi for much of our testing, and noticed no discernible handicap in terms of speed, but stacks of difference in comfort and cornering confidence over and above previous Ultimates we’ve ridden on 23s. A slightly wider footprint allows you to crank the bike over in confidence much further. And they shake off mid-corner surface changes and bumps almost as if they’re not there. Unusually for a test bike, considering the budget we’ve set ourselves for these bikes, there’s not one component we’d change that would make a demonstrable difference to its performance. 

Geometry

Spec

There’s a certain charm about a steel bike with heritage. A classic Colnago, Bianchi or Wilier will always tug at our nostalgic heart strings. Fixating on the past isn’t always healthy, though. Steel may be the historic material of the pro peloton, but many brands have set out to prove that steel can indeed be on the cutting edge, and Engineered has taken a particularly interesting approach.

‘We’re definitely not the first people to mix steel and carbon,’ says David Fong, founder of Engineered Bikes. The Blits, Engineered’s endurance racer, is just one of his frames that offers the option of a carbon seat tube through the centre of a steel frame. ‘People in the US have been doing it for a while, but it is far more common to mix carbon and titanium – there aren’t that many guys who do steel and carbon.’ 

By mixing materials, designers aim to utilise the finest attributes of different frame constituents to get the best of both worlds. In the case of the Blits, the carbon in the seat tube will be more adept than steel at achieving high levels of lateral stiffness while allowing vertical flex, and will most likely be lighter too.

The clever stuff isn’t all hidden away under the skin, though. The way the steel top tube wraps around the seat tube is another impressively elegant design feature, as is the Thecno saddle mount, which conveniently still allows for some height adjustment atop the integrated seat mast. 

Fong, a mechanical engineer by training, has gone to great lengths to create his vision of an ideal frame, but has stopped short of building it himself. ‘The story probably starts in 2009,’ he says. ‘I was living in London and couldn’t find the bike I wanted – a titanium disc brake super-commuter. I thought about doing it myself. I can weld and do all of that, but I thought to do it really well I’d seek out someone with a little more experience.’

Fong’s resesarch took him to the Far East, but he didn’t find the manufacturing match he had dreamed of. It was actually in the historic home of bike-building where Fong found his ideal partner: ‘I looked at the options in Europe and the best skills, especially for building metal bikes, are definitely based in Italy,’ he says. ‘So we build there and if there’s a need for more advanced engineering analysis for any design I do that locally.’

Fong takes that part of the process seriously. Far from simply firing off tube and generic geometry specs, he spent a long time developing his designs – even using FEA analysis to determine the best tube sizes and material combinations. That’s evident from the outset with the Blits, which looks like no ordinary steel bike.

Red dawn

The bike is an instant charmer. The pillar-box red paint scheme made me want to like the Blits before setting foot on a pedal. It’s the type of bike that juggles a high-performance sheen with a subtle modernity that meant
I was as happy riding 150km in a chaingang as I was rolling up to a cafe in my jeans, on a bike that revels almost as much in the city as it does on a serious ride.

While I was won over by the looks, that initial charm was fettered by a certain scepticism – mixing materials is never easy, and a young British brand patching carbon and steel together had me slightly suspicious that something about the ride would be slightly amiss.

A big fear of mine with any steel bike harbouring racy intentions is that it’s very difficult to balance rigidity and comfort. Some builders have designed around the problem – Dario Pegoretti uses his own custom-drawn oversize Columbus chainstays to excellent effect. Engineered has similarly opted for generally oversized tubing, and tried to use the introduction of carbon to balance out the comfort and stiffness issue that steel most struggles with.

I found the Blits to be impressively fast, efficiently converting all of my pedalling effort into speed. That was a real asset on long climbs where, despite the slight increase in weight compared to a full carbon frame, the bike’s stiffness kept me turning the cranks with enthusiasm. I would have been eager to take the bike to a crit circuit, and the slightly more robust nature of steel in an impact makes racing all the more appealing.

However, where Fong’s carbon-steel design paid most dividends was in the sublime way it handled. The high-end Columbus HSS Spirit tubeset – a chunky-looking collection of steel tubes that includes a hugely oversized 44mm diameter down tube, ensured the front end was rigid enough to corner decisively. At the same time, there was a certain balance and predictability to the bike that meant I found myself pedalling through corners on descents where normally I’d be feathering the brakes.

While I don’t doubt that the carbon seat tube adds lateral rigidity, it’s the difference in feedback between carbon and steel that for me brought the greatest benefit. The carbon seat tube manages to relay what’s going on between the road surface and the tyres, which I found to be a big advantage when judging traction in a corner. 

While the seat tube delivered in terms of feedback, it also had a noticeable effect on comfort too. It filtered out much of the higher-frequency road buzz, but serious bumps in the road did generate an undesirable jolt through the saddle.

Indeed, that was probably the only detracting point with the Blits. The general ride feel reminded me of the Pegoretti Marcelo, which remains the finest steel frame I’ve ever ridden, only let down by an inability to absorb the impacts of the road quite as effectively as I would have liked. 

As an overall package, Engineered has done a very good job of building a system that works together. The decisive and snappy Campagnolo shifts matched the racy inclinations of the frame – I’ve always found the multi-shift thumb lever offered by Record (as well as Chorus and Super Record) to be the most effective of any groupset for aiding a quick turn of speed. The Fulcrum Racing Zero wheelset thoroughly impressed, too – it uses the same bare carbon brake track as Campagnolo’s Bora range, which performs predictably in all but the very wettest conditions. 

I struggled to fault the Blits in any big way. The frame juggled comfort, speed and handling, while making the most of the striking looks that steel is so coveted for. And while fully customised geometry may add a little to the price, the option will definitely extend the appeal of the bike to those with specific fit issues.

The lasting impression is of a steel frame with the ability to beat around the race scene and hold its own at the sharp end of a gran fondo with all the vigour of the best carbon frames. For that, it’s a winner.

Spec

At what point is a road bike, not a road bike? Is it when the bars are no longer dropped? Is it when the tyres are knobbly? Wherever the increasingly blurred line is drawn, we’ve got to admit that the Trek 920 Disc stretches the limits of the definition (in the same manner as the Open U.P. or Cannondale Slate). But ignoring semantics for a moment - what the 920 is, without question, is a bike designed for adventure. Much like the latest crop of adventure/gravel bikes, such as the Specialized AWOL and Niner RLT9, the Trek 920 promises to take you miles off the beaten path with heaps of fun in the process.

At the heart of this adventure is a thoroughly modern, 100 series Alpha aluminium frame. Aluminium isn’t often seen on touring bikes, steel and titanium are usually favoured for their toughness, but it does have one key advantage: weight. The 920, even loaded up with racks, only weighs 12kg, which is 2.5kg less than the AWOL. While that might not seem much, especially when loaded up with gear, it does make a difference when you want to ride it unloaded for a bit of fun.

The frame has is absolutely covered in mounts. There’s full pannier mounts front and rear, plus mudguard mounts also. There are three sets of waterbottle bosses, plus two more on the fork if you opt for a low rider rack instead of the porteur-esque one that the 920 comes with. There are other modern touches on the frame too, such as bolt-thru axles for the disc brakes, which combine well with classic parts, like a threaded bottom bracket for durability. 

The wheels are the most controversial element for the road bike purists, as they’re 29er wheels straight out of Bontrager’s mountain bike line-up fitted with Bontrager XR1 29x2.00 MTB tyres. The Duster Elites are Tubeless Ready if you want to go that way, although they come fitted with inner tubes, and Trek is quick to point out that if the big knobblies put you off, you can fit some skinnier rubber. Also testing our roadie mettle is the SRAM groupset, which is made up of parts from its X5 and X7 mountain bike range allowing a low range of gears for fully-loaded excursions. The bar-end shifters though are pure touring and a welcome choice.

Money where your mouth is 

Since the Trek 920 is so bold in its adventurous claims, we took it on a fair few adventures, including a rather testing trip to the far north of Scotland. The trip involved lots of road miles, but with plenty of steep gravel tracks and some quite hardcore off-roading in places.

On the road, there’s no doubting that the big knobbly 29er tyres hold you back but as soon as you hit the gravel they’re a big advantage. Switch the tyres out to 30mm slicks though, and the 920 is as fast as any other gravel bike out there. It also helps shed quite a bit of rotating weight too.

While the SRAM X7 mountain bike groupset might raise some eyebrows on the club run, once the bike is fully loaded and off the beaten path it makes perfect sense. The 28/36 lowest ratio could get you up anything and the 48/11 is actually a fairly hefty gear to turn over, so you rarely spin it out. The bar-end shifters do take some getting used to, and they’re not the greatest in traffic, but you just end up riding in another gear for a few seconds until you find time to change.

The TRP Hylex brakes were faultless the entire test and the chunky grips that hide the master cylinder inside were comfortable for hours. It is quite a long reach to the lever though, so those with particularly small hands may struggle. Fully loaded up the bike handled well, never weaving or wobbling, and the bundled racks are plenty tough enough for all that you could throw at them.

As a bike to go touring where the roads are few and far between, you would struggle to find anything better, but I think where the Trek 920 really excels is just how fun it is to ride. Long after I had finished taking it on epic excursions, I rode it to work, bouncing up and down obstacles like a mad man. I even went mountain biking with a friend and apart from one hilarious incident when I beached it thanks to the long wheelbase it performed admirably, as long as you keep in mind that you’re taking it out of its comfort zone. It’s that change in mindset that is key to enjoying the Trek. It does make a great touring bike, of that there is no doubt, but if you accept that you might not go quite as fast as you could do on a road or gravel bike it’s great for everything else too.

Spec

Similarly to Dolan’s Ares SL, the Sportive Racing from Preston-based Ribble is intended for those of us who like our sportives to be rapid, or even for riders looking for a cost-effective – and future-proof – entry into the world of road racing. Also squarely up against Dolan as one of the UK’s best-known direct-sales bike companies, it will be very interesting to see how the Ribble compares. Ribble says it’s the ideal mix of ‘position, comfort and speed’. But can you have all three attributes in one bike? Let’s find out…

Frameset 

The most obvious feature of the Ribble’s frame is its sloping top tube, which reduces the size of the rear frame triangle. This gives the Sportive Racing a rear end that’s particularly responsive to input, and also means a lengthy expanse of seatpost is exposed, to give you the best chance of adding some flex to the ride. The Ribble’s 31.8mm alloy seatpost isn’t the most forgiving, though. Ribble says it has actually increased the size of its wishbone seatstays to make the frame stiffer. Tube profiles are largely square, which again contributes to rigidity, especially at the bottom bracket and head tube, the latter forming a chunk of carbon roughly the size and shape of eight Weetabix stacked on top of each other. The Sportive Racing is available in a Shimano Sora build from as little as £900, while Ultegra Di2 builds start from £1,780 – that’s cracking value in anyone’s book.

Groupset 

Shimano’s excellent Ultegra Di2 shifters, plus front and rear mechs, are matched by the dual-pivot Ultegra brakes. These are quick to bite, and easy to finesse when the need to scrub off the speed arises. A compact, 50/34 Ultegra chainset works in conjunction with an Ultegra 11-28 cassette offering a spread of gears that will suffice for any terrain. 

Finishing kit 

Alloy Deda handlebars are a comfortable reach, with a not too-deep drop. They transmit a good deal of vibration to the fingers but that’s largely down to the vibey carbon fork. Deda’s 110mm stem allowed us to get a good set-up, though, achieving a position commensurate with this bike’s aggressive nature. Three 10mm spacers on the steerer would allow you to get slightly more upright, for better front end comfort. We’re big fans of Fizik’s Arione saddle – it’s a firm perch that befits the bike’s racy nature.

Wheels 

Mavic’s Ksyrium Elite wheels are some of the best we’ve tested in recent memory – quick to spin up, free of flex even under hard efforts, and light enough to fly up most of our local ascents. Although the rims would accept 28c tyres, we doubt the frame clearance will allow it.

The ride

If you have fillings, it might be worth jamming a bit of chewing gum over them if you’re riding this bike for any distance. The one thing it communicates to us above all else, even within 15 minutes of setting off on our first ride, is that it’s hugely stiff, indecently responsive, eminently thrashable. But not all that comfortable. Position, comfort and speed? Two out of three ain’t bad.

The feeling of stiffness is compounded as our ride progresses. The nicely sized 400mm bars that are matched to our XS frame do their very best to dial out road buzz, but they’re hampered by the rigid carbon fork in this respect. The steeply sloping top tube necessitates a sizeable length of exposed seatpost, which does eliminate the worst of vibrations from the rear, and Fizik’s race-ready Arione saddle does its bit to aid rear-end comfort. Let’s take a moment here, though. Yes, the jackhammer effect of riding this bike close to flat-out is going to get fatiguing for most riders in quite short order, but this assumes that comfort is the most important factor to a particular rider. If you’re buying this bike to go racing, you’ve come to the right place. Although the compact chainset and 11-28 cassette aren’t providing the biggest gears, there’s plenty there for most circumstances. This is easily the most direct bike here – direct in the way it lays down its power, direct in the way it changes direction. Take the word ‘Sportive’ out of its name, and you’ve an honest assessment of its true nature. That said, if you just want to set the quickest time on your next sportive, this bike will give you a good chance.

While your vision might become slightly blurred from the vibrations on less than perfect tarmac, there’s no denying this bike offers a decidedly affordable shot of adrenaline. Although the head angle isn’t as steep as the Dolan’s, a steeper seat tube angle positions the rider over the front of the bike, forcing the head down and positively egging you on to a bigger gear and a harder effort, and downhill turns are dispatched with lightning-fast velocity. Mavic’s Ksyrium Elite wheels perform as admirably in this package as on the Canyon Ultimate CF SL. The fact that two bikes in this test are wearing identical wheels and rubber gives us a rare opportunity to compare like with like, and the while the 25c Mavic tyres flatter the Canyon, they are masking the Ribble’s intense nature. Comfort is improved by running the tyres at 85psi, compensating for the rigidity.

Geometry

Spec

What is it?

Launched in spring this year, the DR1 is the newest addition to the ever-expanding line-up of Merseyside bike builders Dolan. To sum up its key points, it’s a Di2 and disc brake-equipped full carbon aero road bike, designed for both speed and all-day comfort, and aimed principally at sportive and club riders. While it may not be quite as svelte as the firm’s all-out racer, the Tuono, it tipped the BikesEtc scales at a not too chunky 7.96kg, which shouldn’t hinder you on the hills too much. We love the way the bike looks, with design features such as a D-shaped seatpost with a concealed wedge-type clamp, and slender seatstays that join the top tube beyond the junction with the seat post. The eyecatching ‘Battleship Grey/Red’ livery really stands out too, but there’s also an equally striking yellow and black option if that’s more your thing.

So, who’s behind Dolan Bikes?

Dolan is quite a name to conjure with in the history of British cycling. Terry Dolan started building bikes in the 1970s, learning the art from the legendary Harry Quinn. In the 80s, he owned a bike shop in Liverpool, where one of his customers was a young local rider by the name of Chris Boardman. Dolan went on to be a major influence on the development of Boardman’s career – the pair collaborated on the design and building of the bike that Boardman rode as a member of the GAN pro team in the mid 90s. 

Image 2 of 7

Image 2 of 7

Those wheels look interesting – what are they?

Our test bike came with Mavic Cosmic Carbone SSC wheels fitted with tubular tyres, which perhaps aren’t the most practical choice for everyday riding unless you plan to use the bike for racing. However, when you visit the Dolan website to place an order, you’ll find the standard option is a Zipp 30 disc-compatible clincher, shod with Continental’s Ultra Sport II tyres in the popular 25mm width – a great combination for all-round performance and suitability for everyday use. For a small premium, you can also upgrade to Conti’s excellent GP4000S II. A bolt-thru axle is used for both wheels, providing extra stiffness.

dolan-bikes.co.uk

There are many schools of thought on bike weight. The most popular is what we’ll call the Froome approach, where you simply go as light as humanly possible. As such you’ll do things like choose a Dogma F8 XLight over a standard Dogma F8 to save a claimed 80g in the chassis (although you have to wonder why, given that most pro bikes come in well under the UCI’s 6.8kg minimum weight limit). 

Then there’s the Anquetil theory, favoured by strange beasts for whom weight seems to be as much a state
of mind as a physical property. Telltale signs include things like switching your bidon to your jersey to make your bike lighter for climbs, while thinking nothing of carrying a comb about in your back pocket. 

Polar opposite to that is the Merckx attitude, where stability, strength and safety are kings. Exponents of this theory will argue that at least one of Froome’s two cracked frames at the Tour might have been avoided had he just stuck with a regular F8. 

At 5.11kg (56cm) on the Cyclist scales, it’s safe to say the Fuji SL 1.1 is very much in the Froome camp, although carefully examine the build list and you’ll see touches of Anquetil. As for hints of Merckx? That depends on you.

Wealth and safety

The UCI introduced rule 1.3.019 in 2000, stipulating that the ‘weight of the bicycle cannot be less than 6.8kg’. This arbitrary figure was designed to prevent pros riding perilously light bikes that were prone to failure, as well as level the playing field for teams with smaller budgets. Yet in truth, pro bikes routinely do weigh less than 6.8kg. Initially some teams would cheat the system by dropping ice cubes down seat tubes for ballast pre-weigh-in, but commissaires soon wised up. Mechanics now attach lead weights (usually under the bottom bracket shell to keep the centre of gravity low) to make up the difference.

That’s far from ideal, and Fuji says the rule has long since outlived its purpose. ‘I don’t think there’s any danger of bikes getting too light, especially with EN and ISO testing, which ensure the frame and components are safe,’ says global product manager Steven Fairchild. ‘Plus the UCI will soon revise its minimum weight limit.’ 

When this will happen is unclear – it’s been mooted for a number of years now – but one thing’s for sure: the SL 1.1 laughs in the UCI’s po-faces. 

Froomedog

Ostensibly replacing the Fuji Altamira SL (see issue 26), a bike that was 6.11kg out of the box, the SL 1.1 sheds a claimed 237g across the frameset – 110g from the frame to drop it to 695g and a hefty 127g to achieve a 293g fork. 

To justify its abbreviated ‘Super Light’ moniker, the SL’s main tubes have squared-off edges. Fairchild says this permits the use of higher-strength carbon fibres (so less material is needed), which can only be used if they can lay flat, as per the flat tube sides. The fork is designed around the same principle, being almost diamond-like in cross section. It’s also been reinforced with a rib running down each leg, which Fairchild says adds just 12g but helps make the fork 18% stiffer than its predecessor.

Crucially, though, there are fewer bonded joints on the SL – just four, which are required to connect the stays to the main triangle, as opposed to the seven overall bonded tube junctions on the Altamira. Fewer joints mean less material and most significantly less resin, which translates to a lighter frame. Froomey would be pleased.

Maitre Jacques

The spec list is an enviable one, but it did leave me a little puzzled in some areas. The carbon-spoked Reynolds RZR wheels are some of the very lightest out there, at a claimed 968g for the pair. Likewise the 22mm Vittoria Crono CS tubulars tyres at 165g each. And it’s the same story with the brakes from US firm Eecycles – wonderfully engineered, the Eebrakes weigh a claimed 152g (without pads), 100g less than the Sram Red callipers they replace, and I’d say they work every bit as well.

The 251g Ritchey saddle and seatpost combo helps too, with the seatpost trimmed to remove excess weight. Even the headset uses super-light bearings from FSA that save 9g over their conventional equivalents, while the chain from KMC saves a further 14g over the stock Sram Red.

It all points to Fuji wanting to push the lightweight envelope, yet I think it could have done more. Like Anquetil and his comb, there’s a juxtaposition in some areas of the build. For example, the standard-double chainset could have been a lighter compact version, and the cockpit could have been some exotic carbon creation, as opposed to in-house kit from Oval Concepts. A 70g stem from AX-Lightness and 155g bars from Schmolke, for example, would save over 70g alone. You could even have specced the latter’s carbon bottle bolts too.

I put this to Fairchild and he explained performance, comfort and longevity were key considerations, and that Fuji wanted the SL 1.1 to be a ‘mainstream bike’. But with an £8,499 price tag it’s hardly that, so why not go all out? And while those stem and bar upgrades would have added £510 and £310 respectively, I wouldn’t doubt their performance for a second, nor that a customer with £8.5k to spend would quibble over the extra cost. Still, it all rather pales into insignificance when you consider the ride.

The Cannibal

I was lucky enough to interview Eddy Merckx a little while back, and he said he disliked light bikes ‘because you cannot go fast on descents. Luis Ocaña used to ride a light frame and light wheels, and he used to crash a lot.’

It’s an interesting point and one I would agree holds true for the most part. Weighty bikes do feel more stable at speed, and depending on your stance you might be prepared to sacrifice some climbing ease for a feeling of safety and dependability. But what if you could have both? Well with the Fuji SL 1.1 you very, very nearly can.

I tested the Altamira SL more than two years ago, and even now it’s one of the best all-round non-custom bikes I’ve ever ridden. The good news is the SL 1.1 builds on it, and makes it even better. There are no surprises with its climbing ability – it weighs little more than a cat, and climbs just as nimbly. Yet surprisingly, its climbing prowess is actually one of the lesser strings to the SL’s bow. Where it really excels is in its handling.

As with its predecessor, the wheelbase is short at 983mm, so too the chainstays at 405mm, and the head tube is a racy 155mm tall. Add to that reduced fork trail and a compact frame and you get a taut, responsive bike that’s exceptionally snappy and accurate through corners. There is a caveat, though. With it being so light I felt the need to make a conscious effort to ‘dig’ the wheels into faster, longer corners for traction, pushing hard on the outside foot. That said, once I adapted to the SL’s needs I could carve deep, sweeping arcs far faster than I’d ever previously dared. As a crit bike it would be fantastic, and the Reynolds RZR wheels don’t leave anything wanting in the acceleration stakes either. 

However, those corners come thick and fast when descending, and the SL does eschew the Merckx imperative. It’s not skittish – the frame has enough flex to help it track well while being plenty stiff enough at the pedals and when bar-wrenching – but I’ve ridden more stable bikes, and it took me time to adjust to its overtly racy style of riding. It does require concentration, but once I’d managed to drag myself up to the SL’s level I found a bike that is in almost every way exceptional. 

On second thoughts, perhaps it’s perfectly fine as it is – a beast straight out of the box.

Spec

As the rain starts to fall again (for some of us it never stopped) our bikes will take a pounding. Lashing rain can take its toll on a bike, particularly the drivetrain, so it’s worth giving it some extra TLC this time of year. It’s best if you stay on top of it by cleaning your bike down after every ride, otherwise you’ll end up with a very grim and gritty chain. Here Chuck shows you how to get that bike chain looking good and running smoothly.

Time taken: 10 mins

Money saved:£20-£50 (cost of a new chain)

You will need: Rubber gloves (it can be messy), Bike Chain degreaser, chain cleaner machine, old rag or kitchen towel, chain lube.

Meet the expert

Chuck Buckley’s been a bike nut since he was a boy growing up in New Zealand. After moving to the UK he worked as a bike mechanic in London before joining Team Madison-Genesis over two years ago.

1. Get out the degreaser

After clamping your bike to a work stand, open your chain cleaner and fill it with chain degreaser. Look for the limit line so that you don’t overfill it. If your chain isn’t overly dirty, dilute the degreaser with water to make it last longer and save cash.

2. Start pedalling

Clip your device on to the lower section of the chain and turn your pedals backwards, so that the chain runs through the degreaser bath. Clipping it onto the underside of the chain gives you a lot more room and isn’t as fiddly, while back-pedalling allows the chain to run through the cleaner smoothly. Run the chain through the bath as many times as is necessary.

3. Give it a rub down

Using an old rag, or a piece of kitchen towel, wipe away any excess degreaser residue. The brushes in the chain cleaner will have eradicated the majority of the gunk but you’ll more than likely still find some superficial debris which a rag will wipe away with ease. Be careful not to get degreaser where you don’t want it – in your wheel hubs or bottom bracket.

4. Pour on the lube

Using a lubricant applicator you can apply the right amount without overdoing it. We used Finish Line’s No Drip applicator. This helps apply an even coat without – you’ve guessed it! –any drips. Slightly squeeze the applicator and, making direct contact with the chain, apply an even coat to both the inner side and outer side of the chain. If you don’t have an applicator,  just apply lube to the inner side as this comes in contact with the cassette and chain rings. 

5. Check your shifting

Finally, be sure to check that you have lubricated the chain appropriately by testing the gear shifting. If the gears don’t shift as smoothly as you’d like, go back to step 4 and apply a bit more until you get the desired shifting. Be careful not to apply too much though – excess lube will only attract dirt and require more frequent cleaning. After you’re happy that the chain is suitably lubed, wipe off any excess with your rag or kitchen towel. 

About the bike

This is the latest model to join the exhaustive range of bikes from direct sales specialists Ribble. CGR stands for ‘Cross, Gravel, Road’, marking this machine out as one which you could, theoretically, take anywhere, in all conditions. Supplied with mudguards as standard and hydraulic disc brakes, it’s well suited to riding in the typically wet and grimy British winter. We’re not testing its off-road credentials here, but one thing’s for sure – with its lairy paintjob, if you did get lost in the wild on it,  the search and rescue mob would soon find you!

The spec

Frameset The CGR uses 7005 alloy for its frameset. A curving diamond-profiled top tube meets the head tube in a seriously beefed-up section for total directness of steering. A fat, round-profiled down tube and horizontal chainstays help to give a feeling of almost immediate power transfer when you leave the saddle and give the CGR some big licks. One of the less obvious benefits of disc brakes is the extra space for tyre clearance – though it’s supplied with 25c rubber, we reckon it could easily accommodate cyclocross-spec rubber as wide as 33c. On a practical note, the carbon forks and rounded alloy seatstays also have race mounts, in case you were looking for a load-lugger for commuting duties, or even a light off-road adventure. Versatility is the name of the game with this bike.

Image 3 of 6

Image 3 of 6

Groupset The Ribble’s groupset is a sensibly-specced Shimano Tiagra affair, with 105-spec brake hoods and shifters for the hydraulic brakes. It’s fair to say that 2016’s Tiagra is pretty much on a par with the 105 kit of old, and it doesn’t suffer for being 10-speed, rather than 11, either. 

Finishing kit Ribble being Ribble, you can specify many of the details of this bike differently, via the company’s online bike builder. However, the Deda handlebars and stem, which we’ve tested before this year, are solid pieces of aluminium kit, which we’d wager would withstand anything you can throw at them. We’ve also ridden on this saddle before, on the Tifosi CK7. It works even better in this set-up, helped by Ribble’s unbranded carbon seatpost.

Wheels The Shimano theme continues at the wheels, with RX rims laced with 28 spokes. The hubs use low-friction seals to keep out water, grit and dirt. This is a solid wheelset, and will accommodate tyres up to 38c, so are ready for anything. They’re basic, but they work – it’s clear where Ribble’s value-for-money eye was on this build, and that’s the hydraulic brakes. Conti’s Ultra Sport tyres aren’t what we’d choose for ‘performance riding’, but for winter training, they’re supple enough and could easily be sized up to 28s for even better comfort and cornering confidence.

Image 5 of 6

Image 5 of 6

The ride

First impression After donning some dark-lensed sunnies to keep the DayGlo frame from distracting us during the ride, we felt like we should have swapped them for night-vision goggles, as the CGR feels like the road bike equivalent of a tank. We liked it! The front is as solid, direct and downright stiff as anything we’ve ridden. In the first few miles of our loop, i the 85psi in that front tyre kept the worst of the vibes at bay.

On the road Comfort turns out to be an awful lot better than the opening miles had led us to expect. Although the stocky head tube and braced top tube junction make for a massive expanse of 7005 alloy, the overall geometry of the frame is decidedly upright, meaning hands are spared the worst of the road surface. A head angle and seat angle that are near-identical saves wrists from taking a battering, and the brake hoods – identical to those on the Pinnacle Dolomite 5 – are always comfortable. Shifts gel efficiently with the compact, 50/34 Shimano Tiagra chainset to ensure forward momentum is maintained. The extra weight over the other bikes here makes itself known on climbs but rolling roads are dispatched with aplomb, aided by the bike’s direct response. Arrow-straight, horizontal chainstays help, taking all your effort to the hub. The 12-28 cassette will heave you over most hills and allow you to make use of downhill momentum – we didn’t spin out once, and after moving two of the three 10mm spacers above the stem we were able to make this bike fairly aggressive. But that’s not the point – the CGR is a rugged thing, with just enough performance to excite. 

Image 6 of 6

Image 6 of 6

Handling Here’s where the CGR’s stiffness really allows it to shine, with downhill sweepers dispatched in the blink of an eye. Albeit a fairly lingering blink. There’s plenty of feedback through the exaggeratedly tapered carbon fork, which combines with the super-stiff front end to promote stacks of cornering confidence. In the corners, they’re never unsettled, but we were unable to test their performance in soaking conditions. Where the brakes shine is in their ability to shave off fractions of speed if you’re in danger of over-cooking a corner. Although the rear mudguard is fitted very closely to the wheel, there was never a hint of rub, despite the narrow clearance. In all, for a bike that’s designed to take on tarmac, gravel and dirt, the CGR does a pretty good job as a pure road bike.

Geometry

Spec

Some mornings you wake up and think to yourself, ‘I just don’t feel like winning a Grand Tour today’. Instead you might very well decide that an amble through leafy countryside in the utmost comfort is a more appropriate way to spend a Saturday.

As the numeric suffix suggests, the Galaxy Excel has been built around a Reynolds 631 steel frameset; this particular makeup of alloy offers a desirable mix of durability and comfort, lending itself to the touring range in which this model sits. Adding to the plush ride is a pair of Schwalbe Marathon 32c tyres, allowing pressures as low as 85 P.S.I, negating many concerns that gravel or unpaved surfaces may provide.

A Shimano Alivio chainset and XT rear mech keep the wheels turning, with 27 gears offering up a plethora of ratios with which to spin up even the steepest of bridle paths. Shimano BR-CX50 cantilever brakes dealing with the stopping, which while breaking from the current trend for discs offer a more user-friendly experience in terms of adjustment and maintenance.

The finishing kit and paintwork of the Galaxy Excel are a real highlight. Bottle cages, rear rack and SKS branded mudguards are all included in the box, and add a welcome sense of value for money. A subtle metallic green paint job brings to mind racecars of the fifties - an era in which the Dawes would not look entirely out of place. The exposed steel at the bottom bracket and dropouts brings the bike slightly more up to date, while reminding us of just what sits at the heart of the bike.

Although the Galaxy Excel’s natural calling might be touring, we also anticipate that it could easily be pulled into service as a useful commuter bike as the winter months close in. We’re looking forward to seeing how the Galaxy fares over rides of varying length and scenery.

Spec