Breaking Away

A luckless morning. I had attempted to join a 100K club ride, only to get an important phone call as I pulled up to the start. By the time I got done the others were nearly an hour ahead. I would never catch up. I decided to ride the route anyway. 

The weather had been beautiful. But as I set off, it began to rain - cold, hard little drops, carried sideways by the wind, sharp against my face. 

On the road there was more traffic than usual. A mile in, a driver cut me off and I barely avoided a collision. Still fuming over this, I began to notice that my throat hurt. I was hot and cold. I felt sluggish. Maybe I was running a fever. Maybe I should count my losses.

A deep irritation over a day wasted was building up. Workdays that have no clear end or beginning. A weak constitution that has derailed my plans one time too many. If it's not one thing, it's another. 

For some miles, it was angry riding. Riding a wave of frustration. But I pedaled. Mechanical motions. Round and round. Rain and chills, traffic, scratchy throat, round and round. "Oh shut up," my legs said to my throat. We would break away. 

I had the sense that once I was a certain number of miles out, it would all resolve itself, because turning back would no longer make sense. Concord, West Concord, Maynard. I pedaled harder.

But then came a moment of doubt. I had not meant to be on my own with my thoughts on this day. What would I do out there, for hours, with all these thoughts? "Oh shut up" my legs said to my brain. 

And we broke away. 

20 miles in. As if someone had waved a magic wand, the cars were gone. The sun came out. The pedals lost their resistance. We floated up hills. My mind emptied. 

In Still River I passed a Benedictine monastery. It stands on top of a hill, overlooking a green and blue rolling landscape. Slowly I rode through it, not seeing a single person on its grounds. The monks must have been indoors.

In Boxborough I stopped at a farm. It had visitor hours and notices posted, but looked abandoned. With my bike, I stood in the middle of a field dotted with white barns, thinking of nothing. I heard ringing in the air. The field was full of dandelions. 

The climb leading up to the Fruitlands was shorter and tamer than I remembered. Today, the hill was an invisible host, gently taking me by the arm and leading me to the view. 

At the hilltop, I had the place to myself. No cars were parked at the scenic overview along the side of the road. No cyclists passed. I had made it all alone up there and the world felt far, far away. The sun flickered through thick clouds, a flood of light going on and off. I looked down at the little mountain clusters across the state line. The entire world felt close.

Descending into town, I remembered that I had not eaten for hours and stopped at the general store. When I ordered coffee and a sandwich, it felt strange to talk - as if I hadn't spoken out loud in years. Was I even saying the right words? The boy behind the counter had an inscrutably friendly face that had seen many cyclists. 

Orchards and orchards on the return leg. The apple orchards have such neat rows of such crooked, erratic-looking trees. Line-dancing trees. Shaker trees.

This ride was coming to an end much too fast, I thought. I wasn't ready. And I veered off course onto another road, with more uphill floating, more orchards.

But at length, unfamiliar farms gave way to familiar ones, a gentle reminder of being homeward bound. Then finally, the bikepath, and the city - with 100 miles on the computer and frustration a faint memory. 

Sometimes if you just keep pedaling, everything else breaks away, falls away. If you keep pedaling, the mind quiets down. 

Ceci N'est Pas un Rando Bike

Last summer I test rode and reviewed a Rawland Nordavinden, which I liked very much. At the time I was waiting for a similar frame (a prototype project) to be finished and it was unclear when that would happen. Could be soon, could be in another year, as these things go. In the meantime I kept borrowing bikes to do dirt road rides, which didn't feel right. So after giving it some thought, I bought the Nordavinden frame for personal use and built it up as an interim bike, with components destined for my own frame. Long story short, but for now the Rawland remains. I got used to it, I like it and can't bring myself to dismantle it. 

The frameset is the same one described earlier, so I won't go into detail again. But quick summary: It is steel, with thin wall standard diameter tubing and low trail geometry, made to fit 650Bx42mm tires and to accommodate sidepull or centerpull brakes. The way I set up this bike is considerably different from the demo model I tried last summer, so I'd like to share my impressions of this version. 

Rawland owners have their own newsgroup called rCOG, which I browse with interest. One common theme I've noticed there is that they like to keep the weight of their builds down. I did this to some extent as well, but didn't take it as far as one could. For instance, I went for lightweight wheels, but didn't fret as much over the other components. Still, the bike - before fenders, front rack or handlebar bag, but including saddle, pedals, bottle cages and bar tape - weighed a respectable 22lb, according to Harris Cyclery's scale. Once the final accessories were added, the weight rose to 25lb. That is not bad for a bike of its type, though it's possible to do better (for a price).

The wheels were built around Pacenti PL23 rims, with a Schmidt SON dynohub in the front and a White Industries rear hub, with a Campagnolo road cassette. The tires are the 650Bx42mm Grand Bois Hetres. Some have pointed out that this bike looks like it has fatter tires than the one I tried last summer, but that's only because these are cream and the others were black. White tires tend to look larger; it's an optical illusion.

The drivetrain is a hybrid of older Campagnolo Chorus (not sure what year, but it was when Chorus was still a 10-speed group), and a White Industries VBC road double. The goal here was to achieve super low gearing without weighing down the rear wheel with a mountain cassette, as well as allowing me to use my favourite shifters. As far as smoothness of operation and reliability, the setup works okay, but I would not go so far as to recommend it (or any other hybrid drivetrain I've tried to date) to others. More on this in a later post; it could be a bit of a rant.

But as far as gearing, the setup is heavenly. I have 42/28t rings on the crankset, and a 12-29t cassette in the rear. On pavement, I mostly use the big ring, and it provides a decent range. On dirt, I switch to small and it also provides a decent range. Having a sub 1:1 gear is wonderful. I tend to pedal at a high cadence, so climbing hills on an overgeared bike is a sure way to dampen my enjoyment of a ride. With the low gearing here, my legs always feel good on climbs; I feel like I could go anywhere. 

The brakes are Paul Racers, and I reviewed them here. Honjo fluted fenders. 

When riding on dirt and gravel, I prefer the Selle Anatomica saddle for the extra bit of give it provides. I've reviewed SA saddles before (here and here), but might need to post an update.

In the front I have a Nitto Mark's rack and a modified VO Campagne handlebar bag, which I use as a camera bag. The headlight is a Schmidt Edelux, on a DIY bracket. I have not installed a dynamo tail light yet, but when I do it will be the Spanniga Pixeo. 

Cane Creek headset, Velo Orange stem, Grand Bois Maes handlebars, Cinelli cork tape. In retrospect, I think the white tape was an aesthetic mistake on this bike, but I'll keep it while it lasts. 

Not clearly pictured here are my Crankbrothers Candy pedals, and King bottle cages (made by these guys), with Lezyne mini-pump attached. When I ride this bike, I typically keep tools in the saddle wedge and camera stuff in the handlebar bag. If I were doing a multi-day trip, I would substitute a large saddlebag for the wedge. I do not plan to install a rear rack.

[image by Pamela Blalock]

The role of this bicycle seems to confuse a lot of people. I've been repeatedly asked why I did not ride last weekend's Permanent on it, since it's the prototypical "rando bike." But it's not a rando bike, at least not to me. I prefer to do paved rides - be they short or long - on my lightweight skinny-tire roadbike. On pavement, my roadbike is faster and feels better; I get less tired and find it easier to keep up with others. This may not be the case for everyone, but it is for me. However on dirt and gravel, this dynamic changes and a fat tire bike feels both more comfortable and more efficient. I also find the Rawland's distinct handling to be helpful on twisty unpaved rides, which in turn allows me to ride more confidently, relax and enjoy myself more. 

So the Rawland (and any similar bike it might eventually be replaced with) is for unpaved riding. It is also a "camera bike," for long rides where I go exploring and photo-scouting. These two use case scenarios sometimes, though not always, overlap. The frame feels springy, but not noodly. A full handlebar bag does not seem to impact handling in any noticeable way, but the bike also handles just fine without it, as well as with weight on the rear only. In general (another rant-inducing topic best saved for another post), I am coming to the conclusion that handlebar bag setups are unnecessarily bulky and troublesome. I would not go this route, if it weren't for my desire to carry heavy cameras on the front of the bike. That said, I enjoy my setup, despite the trouble it took to install everything to my satisfaction and the extra weight.

I've now had the Rawland since September, though I did not ride it for a period from January till late March due to snow. My favourite things about it are the handling, and that it allows me to carry my big cameras in the front. It is a fine bike and a fun bike - though I'll be remiss not to note that others who try it don't always like it; the phrase "hinged in the middle" is used. It seems the low trail thing is really a matter of taste (and/or of getting used to).

With unpaved rides becoming more popular than ever, lots of cyclists are looking for appropriate bikes and the Rawland is a great option. In addition to the Nordavinden, there is now also the Stag model, which is made for cantilever or v-brakes, and for 650B wheels in all sizes (whereas only the smaller Nordavinden comes in 650B). And for an entirely different take on bikes for unpaved riding, watch for an upcoming review of the Honey Cyclocross bike. 

Modified VO Handlebar/ Camera Bag Setup, Sans Decaleur

My reason for wanting a handlebar bag on a roadbike has to do with photography. I would like to carry DSLR and film equipment on scenic rides in a way that allows me to pause briefly, extract and use the camera quickly, then just as quickly put it away and continue cycling. Having carried cameras in both saddle bags and handlebar bags in the past, I prefer the latter for this task - provided, of course, that the bag is stable and not detrimental to the bicycle's handling. With a handlebar bag, the contents are convenient to access on the bike without dismounting or stopping for too long. I was eager to set up this system on my Rawland Nordavinden, enabling it to function as a go-fast dirt roadbike and camera bike simultaneously.

Having already owned a bike with a functional handlebar bag setup, the concept is familiar to me. On my former Rivendell, I had an Ostrich bag, attached with its native straps to the front rack, and supported at the top with a spacer-mounted decaleur. What I liked about that system was its stability, and the aforementioned ease of camera access. What I disliked about it was the bulk. The bag was larger than necessary. The myriad of leather straps, metal buckles and other appendages added weight. The buckles clanked against other metal hardware on rough roads, no matter how out of the way I tried to position them. And having a decaleur permanently attached to the bike seemed superfluous. But all this aside, using the same setup on my current bike was not an option. My handlebars are too low for the Ostrich and many other production bags. And for reasons too complicated to go into here, using a decaleur, even if I wanted to, would be problematic. So I took this as an opportunity to experiment with a decaleur-free setup. Velo Orange sent me their Campagne handlebar bag to try out for this purpose. This bag is considerably smaller than the Ostrich and just a tad larger than the small Gilles Berthoud. The design is otherwise very similar to the Berthoud. The VO bag's fabric, stitching and leather are noticeably rougher, which is reflected in its price ($110, compared to $225 for the Berthoud). 

I made a number of modifications to the VO bag. First, I removed all of its native leather attachment straps with metal buckles, of which there were 4: two for the handlebars (you can see them in use here), one on the underside of the bag for attaching it to the center of the rack's platform, and one at the rear for hooking over the rack's "tombstone." Unlike on some other bags, the straps on the Campagne are not permanently attached, but threaded through, so removing them is easy. But I did cut off the D-ring attachments on the sides of the bag: They were stiff and sticking up in a way that interfered with the top flap sitting flush (can be seen here as well). I will extract the remaining bits of leather eventually, but for now it's just a rough cut. Removing the leather straps and buckles made the bag quite lightweight - though there are still metal buckles on the front and rear pockets that I would love to replace with elastic cords, for the sake of convenience.

Going for a decaleur-free setup, my main goal was to attach the bag to the front rack as firmly as possible. With the native attachment system, the single strap on the underside of the bag hooks around a central point on the rack. Attached in that manner, the bag will pivot and sway without a decaleur. So what I wanted to do instead was attach the bag to the outside edges of the rack at 4 widely spaced points. There are several ways to approach this, and others have done it successfully using a variety of methods including velcro straps and metal rivets. Here I tried strong nylon cords. My husband used his leather punch to make 4 holes in the bottom of the bag, through the fabric as well as the stiffener. The cords are routed through the rack's light mount/strut eyelets (see below) and tied together tightly inside the bag, as shown.

The design of the Nitto Mark's Rack and similar makes this style of attachment possible. Routed through the eyelets in the rear (and around them in the front), the cord cannot slide along the rack. Mark's rack is a popular front rack, and using nylon cords makes this a lightweight, inexpensive and very easy to DIY method with any small h-bar bag. I should point out that the cords must be of the non-stretchy variety and rated for outdoor use. And if your bag does not come with a floor stiffener, I recommend making one; it will be a much more solid system. 

To attach the bag to the rack at the rear, I used a thick zip-tie. With a small handlebar bag, many find that this type 5-point attachment system is sufficient to keep the bag steady without the additional support of a decaleur, particularly when the bag comes with side stiffeners. I too found it acceptably stable. 

But once I added zip ties to secure the top to the handlebars, the bag felt as if it were nailed in place. This can only be done on bags that sit level with the handlebars, as shown here. In the future I might substitute these zip ties with cords, or thin strips of velcro - the kind used to wrap around bundles.

While I seldom use the tops of the drop bars, it's nice to know that I can. The handlebar attachment doesn't interfere, because the edges of the bag flare out and leave room for my hands. And the bag is narrow enough, so that with my 42mm wide handlebars it does not get in the way of using the Campagnolo shifters. The only downside to this attachment, is that it leaves little space through which to fish the cord when closing the bag, but with my long skinny fingers it is doable. Also, with a threadless stem, this works really well when opening and closing the bag on the go.

While some might scoff at the use of zipties and cords in leu of buckles or velcro, this is the most stable, least wobbly handlebar bag system I have tried thus far. The bag does not budge. And another thing: everything is silent. No rubbing, clanking or jingling noises. 

I have a very handy camera insert from Zimbale from 3 years ago, which fits into most of the bike bags I own - including the VO Campagne. I think this insert might now be discontinued, but you can still buy it from a couple of sources (try here). Alternatively, you could look for an appropriately shaped insert at a camera store. There is also Emily of Dill Pickle Gear, who makes custom inserts. Lots of options.

Since the VO handlebar bag closes toward me, I usually position the insert to close away from me, for an extra bit of overlap protection in case of rain or dropping the bike.

Inside the insert are two removable dividers, which makes for up to 3 compartments. 

My DSLR with a zoom lens takes up most of the insert. 

But with a fixed 35mm or 50mm lens, it only takes up one compartment. I can then store other items in the spare compartments, or remove the second divider to place a medium format camera next to DSLR.

I am very pleased with this system so far. The bag is easy to use, the camera is easy to extract without making a production out of it, and the bag is completely stable despite the lack of decaleur. Cornering, climbing, descending, rough roads, trails - great. I have only ridden with this setup locally so far, but I look forward to taking it on daylong rides out of state.

As far as the Velo Orange Campagne bag: It's hard to make judgments about construction quality until you've used a bag for some time, and I have not done that yet. Early on (and before I made any of my modifications), I noticed that one of the side pockets tore - or perhaps was not fully sewn in to begin with - where the fabric meets the leather trim. This prompted me to check all the other seams on the bag. Pulling on them, I have not noticed any defects, looseness, weak threads or fraying. I will follow up if anything else comes undone in use. The bag comes in one colour only, black fabric with honey-brown leather trim. The black fabric has faded a bit in the sun after a few rides, which actually looks nice. Slate blue-greenish. Almost every time I have ridden with this bag, it has rained - but not heavy rain, so I cannot comment on the extent of its waterproofness. Regardless, when using canvas bags I always wrap equipment in a plastic bag when it rains, just in case.

Basically, the VO Campagne bag is a budget-friendly version of the classic French Sologne design. It is a functional bag with a roomy interior, a large front pocket, two small rear pockets and two flat side pockets. Stiffeners (which I like and kept inside the bag), straps, and D-rings are included. The bag is also modification-friendly. And if I were going to modify a production bag, it makes more sense to use something like this than a high-end bag twice the price. In my opinion, the VO Campagne is small enough to set up without a decaleur using a system similar to what I described here. But for the record, VO recommends a decaleur, so experiment at your own risk. You might also be interested to know that Velo Orange will soon be releasing a new, US-made handlebar bag, manufactured by a Maryland sewing shop. Although too tall for my bike, it looks like a great design and I look forward to seeing it in use by others.

Low Trail Madness

While I've wished for this to happen, I doubted that it actually would: Low trail, 650B bicycles entering into standard production. But the day has arrived, and it arrived with an email from Soma Fabrications. An e-buddy of mine over there informs me that they will soon release a "Grand Randonneur" model, co-designed with Boulder Bicycles/Rene Herse. "Is this public knowledge?" I asked, wiping the spray of coffee off my keyboard. Not really, was the reply, but I was welcome to make it such. "Just note that it’s still unofficial, and some of the details may change before production." Noted. Oh, and do I want to test-ride the prototype once it's ready? As if they had to ask.

The Soma announcement came on the heels of Rawland's release of the Stag: a model similar to the Nordavinden, only with slightly different specs. The pre-order pricetag is $625 including a free set of Pacenti PL23 rims. I imagine Soma will try to get its pricepoint in the same range. Adding the $500 Velo Orange Polyvalent to the mix, that gives us 3 manufacturers offering standard production low trail 650B framesets, made in Taiwan, for well under $1,000. 

For those who prefer a US-made bike, there are several pre-fab models available in the $1,500 range, including the Box Dog Pelican, the Boulder Randonneur, and most recently the Rambler from Ocean Air Cycles. If you've ever wanted to try a bike like this without the wait, uncertainty and pricetag of going full custom, there are options. 

But speaking of custom, more and more framebuilders are testing the waters with low trail 650B designs and some of the names may surprise you. As I write this, I am eying a fresh-off-the-boat prototype frameset from Mercian Cycles in England that was built to my spec. (For the record, they are skeptical of the low trail design, so if the bike doesn't ride well I take full responsibility.) Equally surprising is that Seven Cycles are willing to give it a go, in titanium of course. Jokingly I asked them about it a little while ago, and the reply was "Let's talk." 

So what's so special about low trail? In a sense, nothing, and that's sort of the point. Some of us simply believe it to be a "normal" geometry just like any other that happens to be useful in some contexts and beneficial for some riders. This does not mean that it's special or better, but only that we feel it ought to exist as a viable option. Personally, I've come to appreciate the feel of low trail on city bikes, as well as on fat tire bikes ridden on dirt; the combination of how responsive and at the same time intuitive these bikes feel intrigues me. But of course not everyone agrees. The husband tolerates low trail on his Brompton, because he finds the bike handy, but dislikes it on roadbikes. And framebuilder Mike Flanigan - tempted to try the Rawland after I raved about its handling - just smiled and shook his head after his ride: "Nope, still don't like low trail" - though he's made a few for customers, and continues to do so. 

Is low trail design a fad that will seem silly in hindsight, or an enduring trend that is here to stay? We'll just have to wait and see. 

Can Stop, Will Stop: Paul Racer Brakes

When I received a Rawland Nordavinden demo bike for review some time ago, it was fitted with Silver Bigmouth sidepull brakes. The Nordavinden model is made without cantilever bosses, intended to be used with either sidepulls or centerpulls. With 650Bx42mm tires that leaves few options for brakes with sufficiently long reach. I have tried the bigmouth sidepulls before on a 650Bx42mm tire bike with upright handlebars and the stopping power was fine. But it proved decidedly less fine on a bike with drop bars and road levers. The braking wasn't terrible, but not as strong as I wanted. So when setting up a Nordavinden with my own components two months later, I decided to go with centerpulls. The choices were: Paul Racer or Dia Compe 750 brakes. The feedback I'd read about the Dia Compes was pretty good, so I bought those, since they are the considerably less expensive option. To my disappointment, the braking power was not much better than it had been with the sidepulls. I rode the Vermont Fall Classic with the Dia Compes, but had to watch my speed on steep descents, particularly once it started to rain. I was now feeling a little dispirited, because there was only one option left. Trying to not get my hopes up, I bit the bullet and bought the Paul Racers several weeks later. To my immense relief, they work. They are expensive. But they are US-made, and, more to the point, they stop my bike.

In fairness, I should note here that I know riders who use Silver Bigmouth sidepulls, Tektro Bigmouth sidepulls, and Dia Compe 750 centerpulls on fat tire roadbikes without issue. However, my grip strength is weak and I have damaged nerves in my hands. Braking power with the combination of road levers and long-reach brakes has been an ongoing problem, including on bikes built for cantis. It is useful to know that Paul brakes are an option that works. The Center Mount version of the Racers does not require special braze-ons and can be used on any bike that accepts sidepull brakes, provided there is enough steerer available for a cable hanger.

Paul Racer brakes can be purchased from the manufacturer directly, or ordered via your local bike shop. The company is based in Chico, California, where they have been making parts since 1989.

It's Not About the Weather

While we wait for Hurricane Sandy to arrive, I am still finding sand caked on my bike from an earlier rainy, muddy ride. It seems that every time I have ridden this bike so far, it has rained. Of course today, on my inaugural ride with fenders, it is sunny and dry. A friend consoles me by reminding me of the approaching hurricane. Surely I will have the opportunity to test the fenders then. I take the idea seriously and begin to mentally map out a route on some local trails, before realising how utterly insane that is. When the townsfolk are stocking up on canned goods and flashlight batteries, I should probably stay indoors.

With the season marching on toward starker days, I find myself thinking of weather. As cyclists we all tend to have an idea of the "perfect weather" for riding. For some it's the height of summer. For others it's that elusive "60 degrees and sunny, with a mild breeze." A few riders I know prefer cooler temperatures, and some even claim to enjoy rain. I think for me, the biggest revelation has been that, when push comes to shove, I can feel good in almost any weather. 

After a recent post describing a rainy ride on dirt roads, a reader wrote: "It's in our nature to want to be comfortable and coddled, but you celebrate the joy of pushing yourself through rain and mud." I felt guilty reading this, because honestly I don't feel as if I am overcoming discomfort or pushing myself when I ride in those kinds of conditions. And I think that is the key to my being able to do it. The secret is to find a way of being comfortable, to just go with it and appreciate the situation for what it is, rather than spending energy on trying to overcome it. Maybe this is just a different way of looking at the same thing, but to me it makes a big difference. Rather than pushing through discomfort, I extract comfort. 

Part of it is of course practical considerations. Figuring out how to dress, eat and drink in different conditions. Over the summer I stumbled upon some tricks that enabled me to ride in heat in humidity like I'd never managed to do before. And last winter, I discovered that riding in sub-20 degree temperatures was also very doable with the help of strategic layering. But equally important is the attitude. We have to be curious, interested. We have to want the experience. 

What is my idea of perfect riding weather... Probably high 40s to low 50s, with heavily overcast skies. I feel most alive then; the raw energy in the air makes me want to ride faster, further. But in the end, it's not about the weather, but about finding comfort in whatever is thrown at me, about feeling coddled by the beauty of the surrounding landscape. 

North Wind, Meet Dirt Roads: the Rawland Nordavinden 650B

The Nordavinden is a newly released bicycle model from the small West-Coast company Rawland Cycles. Earlier this year I featured a friend's Rawland rSogn, which I could not ride because it was too big. At the time Rawland did not make a bike in my size, but they informed me that one would be coming out later in the year. We talked about a test ride, and as luck would have it, a demo bike was ready just before D2R2. I had it in my possession for a nice long weekend - most of it spent riding local and not so local dirt roads. 

Norwegian for "the north wind," the Nordavinden was designed as a lighter, sportier frameset than its more rugged predecessors: a zippy bike with low trail geometry that accepts fat tires. Full geometry and tubing specs are available here. Like all Rawland models, the Nordavinden is designed in California and handbuilt in Taiwan. 

The larger sizes are built for 700C and will fit a tire up to 35mm. The small size is built for 650B and will fit a tire up to 42mm (pictured here with Grand Bois Hetres). 

The frame is designed for sidepull or centerpull brakes. The demo bike came fitted with Rivendell's (discontinued) Silver big-mouth sidepulls. 

The dramatic curvature of the fork is immediately noticeable - prompting lots of low trail questions from those who saw the bike whilst in my possession. The trail is 30mm, with 650Bx42mm tires. 

Unlike its predecessor rSogn's double plated crown, the Nordavinden's fork crown is the more minimal Pacenti Artisan II, with lighter fork blades. 

The "ice blue" paint is a light, shimmery sky-blue. I tried to take some pictures that eliminated the shimmer and showed the true colour underneath. In person, the shimmer makes the blue look lighter. Compared to the (very similar) colour of the rSogn, the Nordavinden is cooler and a bit more saturated. 

Looking at the Nordavinden next to the rSogn (front), they are similar at first glance, but less so upon closer inspection. The Nordavinden has an almost level top tube (1.5° slope), compared to the rSogn's more prominent slope. The Norvavinden's appearance is sleeker and more roadish - with fewer braze-ons, narrower tire clearances, lower bottom bracket, shorter chainstays. 

Still, the Nordavinden is sufficiently versatile, with eyelets for fenders and braze-ons for a front rack (on the fork blades; optimised for Rivendell's Nitto Mark's rack).

The frame itself is welded cro-moly steel, with some decorative flourishes.

A Rawland chain-slap protector is included with the frame set,

As well as a Rawland seat collar.

The size Small is described as a 54cm frame, measured by its top tube. My ideal frame size for a road fit would have a 53cm top tube, but the small Nordavinden worked nicely with a slightly shorter stem.

Rawland advertises no toe overlap in any of their frame sizes. This held true for me (in size 38 clipless shoes), with room for a fender.

The demo model was built up with Velocity Synergy rims, White Industries hubs, a SRAM Apex drivetrain, 

Chris King headset, Soma threadless stem and handlebars, Tektro short reach brake levers and bar-end shifters. The build was not done for me specifically, but I did have a say in stem length and handlebar width, to ensure the bike would fit me. Were this my own bicycle, I would do some things differently for sure. But sometimes it can be interesting to use unfamiliar components.

For shifters, I had a choice between SRAM brifters and bar-ends, and opted for the latter. Prior to this I had not used bar-end shifters in over a year, and it took me a bit to free my brain from Campagnolo ergo mode. By the end, the SRAM bar-ends grew on me, though I still prefer Campagnolo ergos on my own bike.

I used my own pedals and saddle, and installed two bottle cages. The bike did not come equipped for carrying a front load, as it was optimised to do, so I used a saddlebag when I needed to carry a camera and other items. The bike - as shown here, but without bag and water bottles - weighed just over 24lb. 

I rode the Rawland Nordavinden for a total of 150 miles over the course of 4 days. First was a 30 mile shake-down ride, which included 12 miles of local dirt roads. The following day, I rode a 50 mile route at the D2R2, over half of which was dirt. The day after, I did a 40 mile local ride that included a paved road, a dirt road, and a rather technical dirt trail. And after that, I did a final 30 mile ride on paved roads - including a couple of hill climbs -  before returning the bike. 

What I noticed about the Rawland immediately, was that my sense of balance was different on it than on other roadbikes I've ridden recently. I found tight cornering easier than it typically is for me, and I found it surprisingly easy to change my position on the bike without disturbing its balance - allowing me the freedom of activities I usually have trouble with, such as drinking from the water bottle while riding. I remember similar handling when riding the Royal H. Randonneur last summer, but this time I think I was able to appreciate it more - particularly on unpaved terrain. At the D2R2, I was able to descend on loose dirt and gravel faster than I was comfortable doing previously, and to drink all the water I wanted without having to stop. It certainly added to my enjoyment of the day. The following morning, I rode unceremoniously on a somewhat challenging local dirt trail that I've never been willing to ride before. 

As far as speed, the Rawland is plenty fast and accelerates with no hesitation. There is a snappy, responsive, roadish feel to it. On pavement it is not quite as fast as my Seven roadbike, and it does not climb quite as effortlessly. But as soon as the pavement ends, the dynamic changes. It's as if the two bikes were made to be friends and supplement each other. The Rawland glides over dirt and gravel, seemingly preferring them to pavement. In part, of course, it is the wide tires - which don't bounce me around the way narrow road tires do. But it's also the handling - again, that peculiar flavour of maneuverability that comes with low trail - that makes it easy for me to pick a line through rutted out areas and to corner on loose sections without reducing speed. On a bike with standard front end handling, I feel less confident riding on winding, unpaved roads and trails - especially descending. This preference might be particular to me, I don't know. But I found the Rawland's handling exceptionally agreeable for riding on dirt. 

Notably, carrying weight in the rear was not a problem despite the bike's low trail design. It did not feel much different than riding without a saddlebag, except on steep climbs (with a full saddlebag, the front end "wandered" a bit). I do not know what the bike feels like to ride with a handlebar bag, but I can only imagine that not worse, considering that it's designed for one. I should also point out that I do not know what the bike feels like to ride long distances; my longest single ride on it was only 50 miles. With its front rack braze-ons, a bike like this just begs to be taken on a long, self-supported ride, and I hope to soon read some reviews from owners who've done that.

To think of criticisms is not an easy task here. I suppose I would like the bike even better if it were lighter, though I recognise the weight is pretty good for a bike of its kind. Another thing I can say is that I am fairly spoiled at this point as far as ride quality, and from that perspective the Rawland is not the cushiest bike I've ever ridden. It isn't a harsh ride by any means, but I feel that much of the cush is due to the fat tires - and that with narrower ones I would feel the bumpy roads more. Finally, as I've mentioned already, on pavement the Rawland is not as fast as my Seven - but then I don't think it makes sense to pit them against each other; they are not meant for the same kind of riding. I would not mind owning a bike like the Rawland to supplement my skinny tire roadbike. 

While showing off the demo bike, more than a couple of times I was asked why only the smallest Nordavinden size is offered in 650B. I must say I wonder as well, as it is precisely the combination of the wide 42mm Grand Bois Hetre tires and the handling that draws me to the bike. There is demand out there for lightweight, sporty low trail 650B bikes without having to spend a fortune on custom work. The Rawland Nordavinden retails at $725 for the frameset (available from Rawland Cycles directly). While I cannot vouch for the other sizes, I suspect the 650B Nordavinden is a bike that many would appreciate for road-to-trail riding. 

Many thanks to Rawland Cycles for loaning out the demo bike, and thanks to the Ride Studio Cafe for putting it together.

More pictures here.