Purple Handlebars: My Invisible Bike

In May 2011 I test rode a titanium roadbike by local manufacturer Seven Cycles. Unexpectedly, this turned into my renting a demo model for the remainder of the summer, culminating in this review of the bike. After much hand-wringing and testing of other bikes, this Spring I got a Seven of my own. Both Seven Cycles and their sister bike shop Ride Studio Cafe sponsor this blog, which afforded me the opportunity to purchase the bike at a manageable price point. My new bike is a Seven Axiom S - their entry level titanium road/race model - fitted with a Campagnolo Chorus group. Other than submitting myself to an extensive bike fit process, asking for no toe overlap, and specifying my preference for a level-ish top tube, I did not get involved in the frame specs. "Just make it the same as the one I test rode, only in my size" was the extent of my input. We also went with the same components as the demo bike I rode last year. On Seven's advice, I bought the bike bundled together with pedals, shoes and fancy computer. The complete bike was handed over to me in ready-to-ride condition. I have not kept track of the milage properly, but I estimate it to be around 1,000 miles at present. The kind of riding I've done on it so far has included solo rides, club rides, some metric centuries, and one overnight imperial century - all mostly road.

It took me a while to write about my bike, and I am still not sure what or how to do it. The problem is that it feels so oddly natural, that it simply disappears from my field of awareness. I feel myself pedaling, but I don't feel the bike. And because I don't feel it, I don't think about it. I don't even look at it much. When I do look at it, I am riding it - so even when I try to conjure up an image of "my Seven" what I am really picturing is the cockpit view of the handlebars, wrapped in purple bar tape. The bike itself is just not there. How can I write about something I don't feel and photograph something I don't look at? It feels forced. And so that's been the dilemma.

But of course the bike is a tangible object. Titanium frame, carbon fiber fork. I watched the frame being welded. I know the guy who built it up with components. The bike is real. As far as aesthetics, there are certainly those who are crazy about titanium, but I can take it or leave it. I don't hate it - and Seven's frames have some nice design elements that I particularly appreciate, such as the curvy chain stays and super clean welds. But I don't love it like I do brazed and lugged steel. While aesthetically I am neutral, functionally I have come to see benefits. I like the ride quality. I like the durability. I like the light weight. I am okay with feeling "aesthetically neutral" about a material in exchange for these benefits.

As is common practice with titanium frames, I left mine unpainted. There is no need, as titanium does not rust. If the surface gets scratched, I can simply buff the scratches out. Easy, and truly low maintenance. The unfinished frame gives the bike a matte silvery look that contributes to the neutral effect. There is nothing to see here: No colour, no lugs, but no ugly messy welds either. The welds are subtle, delicate-looking puddles at the joints.

A technically interesting aspect of the bike is Seven's proprietary 5E fork. The curved blades give it a more elegant look than the more typical straight forks, and, some would say, have a positive effect on ride quality. Even more interesting are the adjustable dropouts that allow for these forks to be made in a wide range of rakes (36mm to 58mm) - something that is not commonly done with carbon fiber forks. Among other things, this enables them to make small bikes without toe overlap.

There are different opinions out there about carbon fiber forks, one of them being that they are prone to sudden breakage. This was my own understanding of the situation initially. But over the past year I have read up more on the topic, have talked about it with a number of framebuilders (including steel-loving ones), and have come to the conclusion that it's not as simple as "carbon fiber is more fragile than steel." As far as anecdotal evidence, I personally know many more cyclists who have damaged or destroyed steel forks than I know cyclists who have damaged or destroyed carbon fiber forks. Carbon forks may not be pretty, but I believe the modern high-quality ones are strong and safe. One is not obliged to get a carbon fork with a titanium frame. But last summer I liked the way the Axiom demo bike rode so much, that I did not want to change any part of the equation, so I went with a carbon fork. I do not lose sleep over this. I don't notice it.

Since I first got the bike in spring, it has undergone only a couple of minor changes. I changed the saddle twice (from Berthoud, to Selle Anatomica, then back to Berthoud), trying to determine which one was more suitable for long rides. I also switched out the original 23mm tires (Michelin Krylion) to 26mm tires (Grand Bois Cerf) - mostly just to experiment, but I think I'll keep them this way for a while. Otherwise, the bike has stayed the same. I have several saddle wedges and bags that I use, depending on the sort of ride I am doing, so it usually has at least a tool bag underneath the saddle. Unlike some other road/racing bikes I've tried, it carries weight in the rear very well - including a large Carradice-type bag full of heavy stuff. I have not tried weight on the handlebars yet. As far as geometry, it is basically a 52cm x 53cm frame with a 2° sloping top tube, mid-trail front end, and a steep seat tube. The frame and fork will fit tires up to 28mm. The drive-train is 50/34t in the front and 12-29t in the rear. I prefer to stay seated and spin when climbing hills, and so far this gearing has allowed that for most of the riding I've done. The Campagnolo ergo levers feel extremely intuitive to use. The Crankbrothers pedals have been easy and problem-free. 

As far as limitations, I have noticed only one so far: When doing a 100 mile ride, toward the end I wished the handlebars had roomier "shoulders" behind the brake hoods. I am still not sure what kind of rides I will mostly be doing on this bike, but if I end up consistently riding it long distance I will consider different handlebars. Likewise, I may want lower gearing, should I ever do the kind of climbs that call for it. This bike was not designed for racks, fenders, wide tires, and the like, and so it isn't really meant for touring, transportation, or off-road use. So far it has proven to be more versatile than I expected, but it remains at its best as a light bike for spirited local rides. It is then that the bike is at its least noticeable: It's just me then, flying through thin air. 

To explain the disappearing bike phenomenon, maybe I need to go back to the day I got it. I showed up for a Sunday morning ride at the Ride Studio Cafe on my old bike, and when I walked in the door someone was pointing toward the back of the store excitedly, mouthing "your bike is here!" I headed that way and saw a small group of people, crouching and leaning over what was presumably my bike. They were discussing the unusual decals (made using a non-standard font) and the leather saddle. Feeling shy, I stepped aside and watched them all watching my bike. By the time the crowd dissipated, it was time for the Sunday ride, and it was somehow just assumed that I would ride the new bike instead of the one I arrived on. In retrospect, it might have been wise to test ride it at least around the block before a 30 mile club ride, but there was no time. I barely had a chance to look at it in its unridden state. We headed out and before I knew it, I was pedaling and panting and braking and shifting in a small group of other riders, the wind in my face. Only later, as I rode the additional 10 miles home at an easier pace, did the reality that I was taking my new bike home set in. How did it feel? I really could not say, other than that I did not feel it at all. And that set the tone for our relationship: The bike absented itself politely from my cycling experience. I can tell you whether I ride fast or slow, how many miles, how hilly it is, how tired I am in the end, what sort of things I see around me - but I don't know what to say about the bike itself.

In my review of the demo model last year, I was excited about how fast the Seven rode. Since then, I have ridden other road/racing bikes. They are fast as a category, and the Seven Axiom is just one of many excellent fast bikes out there. What makes this particular bike well-suited for me is the intuitive, weightless, painless feel of it in addition to the speed itself. I do not feel the rough roads. I get less fatigued after riding than I do on other bikes. The fit feels perfectly natural. The components are seamlessly integrated. It really is as if the bike isn't there. When asked to describe it, I draw a blank and what comes to mind are the purple handlebars I see while I'm riding. Not very informative, though in a way maybe it is.

Van Nicholas: 'Dutch Bike' Redefined

Over the winter holidays I hosted a rather unusual guest from overseas - a titanium Dutch bike. Van Nicholas is a small Netherlands-based manufacturer of titanium road, touring, mountain and cyclocross bicycles. A reader suggested I try a Van Nicholas after I reported enjoying other Ti bikes, and thanks to him a test ride was soon arranged. What made Van Nicholas particularly noteworthy, I was told, is that one of their models - the Amazon - made for a uniquely comfortable transportation bicycle, combining aspects of the workhorse utility bikes Holland is known for with the special properties of titanium. Add to that a couple of fancy features afforded by modern technology (a 14-speed Rohloff hub and a belt drive), and the Van Nicholas Amazon seemed very interesting indeed.

Based on my understanding of the sizing, I asked for a 54cm bike. The bikes are customizable, and so I also asked for it to be fitted with swept back handlebars, a leather saddle and flat pedals. The American distributor (EU Cycling Imports) sent the demo model to the Ride Studio Cafe in Lexington MA, and they put the bicycle together for me. I took it home to test ride and brought it back two weeks later, after which the bike was returned to the distributor. It should be noted that the Ride Studio Cafe carries a certain local brand of titanium bicycles, which is technically a competitor of Van Nicholas. But this did not seem to bother anyone and the RSC displayed the Van Nicholas right on the sales floor along with the Seven bikes for customers to admire. It was a treat to see two different titanium brands side by side.

Van Nicholas came into existence 12 years ago and was founded as a brand in 2006. The frames are designed in Numansdorp, Netherlands, built in the Far East (I was not told which country), then finished, assembled and tested back in the Netherlands. The titanium tubing differs in thickness and composition based on the frame model and size. The Amazon is made with stout tubing, designed for touring and for supporting heavy loads. The frame is unpainted, with a brushed matte finish. The headbadge is chemically etched into the frame. Components that come standard with the build are high quality. The stem, seatpost and seat collar are also titanium, branded with Van Nicholas insignia.

The tiny titanium bell is pretty impressive. I forgot to ask whether they sell some of these Ti parts separately, because I certainly would not mind a titanium seatpost and bell.

The many braze-ons for cable routing keep the cables very neat, which is a good thing because there are lots of them thanks to the Rohloff hub. There are also braze-ons for racks, water bottle cage bosses, and everything else one would expect from a touring frame. 

The fork that comes with the bike is carbon fiber, labeled "VNT Elements" - a house brand I think. There are cantilever/v-brake bosses on it, which sort of horrifies me even though I know this is not uncommon nowadays (but how does the carbon fork withstand the force of the mighty v-brake?..).

Special dropouts that can be split apart for the belt drive and also accommodate the massive Rohloff hub, with a built-in mount for the "belt keeper" that prevents the belt from slipping in snowy and muddy conditions.

Brooks Swallow saddle with titanium rails, FSA Metropolis handlebars, Rohloff twist shifter and Brooks leather washer grips. The brown leather accessories warmed up the titanium frame and I found the combination appealing. The handlebars are a modern take on the classic upside down North Roads and this added a touch of an almost vintage look to the whole thing.

When I first saw the bike, more than anything I was overwhelmed by all its bells and whistles. A titanium frame, a carbon fork with canti mounts, a Rohloff hub and a belt drive all on the same bike? It was a lot to wrap my head around. I am glad that at this point I'd ridden several other titanium bikes, and also another bike with a belt drive - so that at least all of these elements were not simultaneously new to me.

The Rohloff hub was the one feature I had not tried before. On first impression I immediately disliked it, because it made the bicycle ridiculously rear-heavy. On a lightweight titanium frame this was especially noticeable: I'd pick up the bike by the top tube, and the rear wheel would pull it backward like a ball and chain. I am not a fan of multi-geared hubs, and anything beyond a 3-speed I usually find annoyingly inefficient. I could already anticipate the same happening with the Rohloff: At such a monstrous weight, surely the 14 speeds with the alleged 526% gear range were a gimmick that in practice would not live up to the numbers' promise.

Taking the bike on its maiden test ride, I headed straight for the hills of Lexington MA to test this hypothesis. And my hypothesis proved to be incorrect. I approached a long, unpleasant hill and was able to climb it at a leisurely pace by utilizing the 3rd and 2nd gears. I did not feel the bike's rear-heaviness whilst in motion and spun without getting out of breath or even especially exerting myself. If I lived in a seriously hilly area, I could travel to work like this in ordinary clothing without getting sweaty. Later I rode the bike to my art studio, which is also on top of a steep hill, and in 4th gear I did not feel this hill at all. The Rohloff hub is heavy and that has its drawbacks, but I found the range of gearing it provided to be very satisfactory and on par with my derailleur-geared bikes. I am wondering now to what extent the performance of the hub in this case had to do with its interaction with the titanium frame. On a heavier frame, would it still get me up the same hills? This question remains open, so please keep in mind that my experience with the Rohloff so far is limited to this specific bike.

The Rohloff shifter took some getting used to, because if you are accustomed to standard twist shifters this one functions in reverse: For a lower gear you twist toward you and for a higher gear you twist away from you. I did not manage to get used to this during my two weeks with the bike and would occasionally shift in the opposite direction than I meant to. I was very glad however that I did not have to constantly switch gears just to ride at the pace I wanted to in the city. The 9th gear was my standard gear, and unless I ventured into hilly terrain I pretty much stayed in it. The bicycle responded very well to my pedaling efforts both uphill and on flats.

It's been explained to me how Rohloff hubs work, and apparently it is like having an internal derailleur with a double crankset. So if I understand this correctly, there is a gear at which point the mechanism automatically switches not just between the internal rear cogs, but also from one internal chainring to another. A couple of owners of older model Rohloff hubs tell me that whatever gear this happens on can be problematic - either sticking or misfiring when one attempts to switch in or out of it. I tried to figure out which gear this was, and judging by the extra grunting/clicking I was hearing, it appeared to be the 6th gear - a gear I only used when going uphill. I made a point to switch in and out of it a few times and did not experience any problems in the course of my test rides. In general, neither the Rohloff hub nor the Gates belt drive gave me any trouble over the 55 miles I spent riding this bike through the hilly countryside and stop-and-go city traffic. The drivetrain was very quiet and sort of faded into the background.

While the Amazon comes with braze-ons for racks, the demo model was sent to me without any and initially I fitted the bike with a medium sized saddle bag. There were also no provisions for dynamo lighting, and I used my own battery lights.

Later we installed a Freeload rack on the bike, so that I could transport packages and my laptop pannier. Aside from one ride done for the sole purpose of testing the bike on hills and over longer distances, I mostly rode the Van Nicholas for transportation, since that was the context in which I was testing it. Its proportions work well for this purpose. The long (456mm) chainstays allow for optimal pannier clearance; the relaxed head tube angle and long top tube prevent toe overlap with the front wheel. I wore my chunkiest winter boots to test ride the bike and there was not even a chance of toe overlap, which was great.

The handlebars, despite being somewhat swept back, are set very low and you can see that my position on the bike is rather aggressively leaned over. Ideally I would prefer handlebars that are not necessarily higher but more swept back. In other ways the bicycle fit me very well and at 5'7" I was happy with the 54cm frame size. The handling felt familiar and predictable. Not like a classic Dutch bike exactly, but like something I've ridden in the past. Maybe like a Ti version of my Rivendell, were it set up as an upright bike. For transportation cycling I like this type of handling very much.   

But my favourite part of the Van Nicholas ride quality was how it felt over rough roads. If you look at the lower righthand corner of the picture above, you will notice there is a ditch in my line of travel. Unfortunately, many roads in the area where we live look like this, and often I end up riding right over those ditches and potholes, because to avoid them would be to zig-zag incessantly. The Van Nicholas was fine with this type of road surface, despite being fitted with tires only 32mm wide (the frame's maximum tire clearance is 2.35", so it is possible to fit much wider tires). I could ride through a ditch like the one you see here and feel only a distant echo without the bone-shaking feeling. As I've written before, I've noticed this same detached "echo" feeling with several titanium bikes so far, so I don't think it would be out of line to speculate that the titanium plays a role here.

On a critical note, the v-brakes were insanely strong and difficult to modulate. I was not brave enough to demonstrate this, but here the Co-Habitant shows what happens when squeezing the front brake with moderate force. We would have to mess with the brake to adjust it in a way that would prevent this, but decided to leave it alone and instead I simply used the rear brake only.

Test riding the bike briefly, the Co-Habitant also noted that he was unable to comfortably ride it hands-free (I would not know, as I do not normally ride hands-free anyhow). The frame was a couple of sizes too small for him, but I doubt this played a role. It could be that the weight of the Rohloff hub and the saddlebag made the front end too light for hands-off riding.

Me, I was very pleased with the handling and the ride quality of the Van Nicholas Amazon and would have been tempted to covet it for my own if it were not for the diamond frame. Try as I might, I am just not comfortable riding diamond frames for transportation in my everyday clothing. Yes I can do it, but I prefer not to. My long coat or skirt inevitably get caught on something as I swing my leg over to mount or dismount the bike, and I am too clumsy to handle this on a regular basis. So despite the great ride quality, the amazingly versatile Rohloffhub gearing, and the silent and maintenance-free belt drive, I ultimately feel more comfortable on my own bike. I should note that Van Nicholas does make a ladies version of the Amazon, but I find the MTB step-through frame design unbearably ugly. Looks are not everything, but the welded titanium and the carbon fork already stretch the limits of my open-mindedness and I am only human. If they managed to make a more attractive step-through or mixte option however (like this please!), I would be in trouble and would desire this bicycle very badly. Offering a dynamo lighting package would also be a huge plus on a bicycle like this - whether it is used for touring or transportation.

The Van Nicholas Amazon is a unique bicycle in that it is durable enough for year-round, all-weather transportation and comfortable on bad roads, while also being sufficiently light and versatile to handle serious hill grades over long distances. Something like this cannot be achieved without the Rohloff hub and the lightweight Ti frame, which makes its high cost inevitable. But for those who can afford it and for whom the diamond frame is not an issue, the Amazon is worth looking into.

Van Nicholas bicycles are available with both stock and custom options, and the full specs, geometry and other details of the Amazon are available here. More of my pictures can be viewed here. Many thanks to Van Nicholas and EU Cycling Imports for the opportunity to try this bicycle.

Titanium for Transportation?

Over the weekend I am test riding a titanium bicycle from the Dutch manufacturer Van Nicholas that was enthusiastically recommended by a reader. I will be posting a review in the future, but for now I have some general thoughts on titanium bicycles as transportation.

I've been thinking about this more and more after test riding several Seven transportation bicycles over the past few months, including this belt drive cafe racer. While their idea of how a transportation bicycle should be set up is not quite the same as mine, I have to say the ride quality was divine. I could go over all the roots and bumps I wanted and feel nothing.

This is the same sensation (or lack thereof) I had reported after many miles on the Seven racing bike I had on loan over the summer: Riding it with 23mm tires over bumps and potholes, I would feel only an "echo" of going over them, as if it were happening to someone else. At the time I was careful not to attribute this sensation to titanium per se, because I had no experience with other titanium bicycles. But it did make me curious to go out and try some others. This wasn't easy, because titanium bicycles are not exactly common. Still, I managed to briefly ride an older Merlin with 28mm tires. While the ride was completely different from the titanium Sevens, I did experience the same "otherwordly" sensation over bumpy surfaces. Around the same time I also briefly tried a steel and a carbon fiber Seven, and they did not feel like the titanium Sevens. 

Another encounter with titanium took place when I test rode a Brompton over the course of several days. I had heard that bicycles with small wheels tend to have a harsh ride quality, but the Brompton felt just fine. The Co-Habitant pointed out that this could be because the model I'd borrowed was fitted with a titanium fork and rear triangle. "Nonsense," I said, "It can't possibly make a big difference!" But when I returned the Brompton I made it a point to try the all-steel version immediately afterward. Darn, I could feel a difference. The model with the titanium fork and rear tringle had a softer ride quality over bumps. I say "darn," because I was biased toward not wanting to feel a difference: that was one factor that prevented me from actually buying a Brompton, as the titanium model is considerably more expensive.

And now there is the Van Nicholas. This is a touring/commuter model that rides not unlike a titanium version of a Rivendell. At the same time, it has the "echo-like" quality I've noticed in the other titanium bicycles I've tried, and in combination with the 32mm Schwalbe Marathon Supremes I just do not feel the road. It's as if the bike rides on balloon tires, but without the heavy sensation these tires sometimes have.

Having tried about half a dozen titanium or partially titanium bicycles at this point, I can say that I do feel a common aspect in their ride quality independent of manufacturer and geometry - namely the manner in which they dampen road vibration. This alone would make titanium a good candidate for a transportation bicycle, simply because it makes for a comfortable ride without the need for super-wide tires. In addition, titanium does not rust and does not require paint. The frame should be absolutely fine in the winter and in the rain with virtually no need for maintenance. Any scratches can simply be buffed off the surface. Combined with an internally geared hub, which would further reduce the need for maintenance, this type of bike could, in theory, be indestructible - lasting for decades with minimal maintenance. And of course the light weight of titanium does not hurt. The downside? Well-made titanium bikes tend to be painfully expensive - if only because they are typically handmade by small builders.

One framebuilder in the Netherlands has been making titanium Oma-fietsen(!), which I find completely intriguing and would love to try some day. In the meantime, the only other woman-secific titanium frame I have seen is the ladies' version of the Van Nicholas Amazon, but I don't find the design appealing. I wonder whether there would be demand for elegant titanium loop frames in the US, where weight and hill climbing ability tend to be particularly important. While I am generally not attracted to welded frames, the ride quality and other features of titanium have drawn me into becoming increasingly interested in this material and its applications. What do you think? Does titanium appeal to you and would you consider it for a transportation bicycle if it were more readily available?