Second Spin Cycles

One of the bigger draws in restoring vintage mountain bikes is getting to know a builder through his or her work. It is why I like to focus my work on smaller, custom builders where each and every bike represents a specific design unique in some element(s) and which when placed along a time line marks an evolutionary step in their thought process. Among such builders Doug Bradbury is one of my favorites and his bikes are major focus of my restorations.

This particular bike was built around 1988, probably the later part of the year. Doug started making bikes for customers in 1987 and only made 24 bikes that year and another 27 in 1988. During that time he experimented with different tubing, gusset design and methods of joining the rear and front triangles. The earliest bikes had a chaninstay designed that strongly resembled the Mountain Klein and which looked like a combination of two flat U shaped sections welded into a single piece which joined the bottom bracket shell and then mates to the chainstays. This bike is the next iteration of that concept which uses box sections to form the chainstays and then welds directly onto the bottom bracket shell.

The gussets on this frame still follow the early design of tall on the top enabling a taller head tube and a flatter one on the bottom at the down tube to head tube interface.

Of the obvious evolving elements that can be seen on the early Manitous is the transition to a larger seat tube. The earliest bikes had a constant diameter 1 1/4" seat tube which over time transitioned to 1 1/2". If you put a select few 1988/89 Manitous in line you could see that 1 1/5" tube almost growing up from the bottom bracket until it spanned the entire seat tube with a necked down portion above the top tube to accommodate the 26.8mm post as the larger 31.6mm posts used in later bikes were not yet available. These seat tube transitions were at first accomplished by splicing the two different diameter tubes together with a welded junction. As I've mentioned before in another writeup these junctions were a stress riser in the frames and a common failure point. This frame had a minor crack at this junction which was expertly repaired by FTW.

Keeping things stiff at the bottom bracket junction was obviously a major concern as evidenced by the almost 2" diameter externally butted down tube and square stays. These bikes had very little lateral flex in the BB under load.

Keeping things sorted at the front was Doug's segmented fork with a 115mm front hub resulting in very precise steering yet still relatively compliant and comfortable on longer rides. I've done a few 20+ mile rides on my old 90 DBM and never felt like I was getting tired of the rigid fork.

Although the hubs appear to be widened Bullsyes they were actually hand made by Doug and his crew especially for his bikes. The common setup on these bikes was 28h in the front and 32h in the rear. The wide hubs made for stronger wheels and enabled even heavier riders to comfortably use lower spoke counts without sacrificing strength and durability.

Though Doug wasn't known for experimenting with drivetrain I did find a few photos among old archives that showed a couple bikes running a wide rear ratio with a 2x front. So for this bike I decided to try that with a 13-32 rear freewheel and a 32/40 front on a Shimano 6206 crankset. I haven't had a chance to try this in the dirt, but in theory and with some tweaking this could be a fun setup.

Though crude at first glance this design is nothing but efficient and appropriate for the task it was meant to perform. There are no flourishes and not much in the way of elegance, the welds are on the rough side. All of that however doesn't do anything to diminish the way these bikes look and more importantly they way they ride. By the time this and the later bikes were made they were much more than trials bike and turned into very capable mountain bikes. Their roots were still in technical riding, but Doug's experience over the years resulted in a well rounded design that could tackle most terrain with light footed surety.

These bikes are really pretty amazing pieces of mountain bike history. They represent a spirit of freedom and adventure, and are built with a degree of performance that enabled the lucky few who had a chance to buy one access to the outdoors and to ability to partake in that adventure. Personally the Bradbury Manitou is one of my favorite bikes and I consider myself infinitely lucky to have found one in my size and appreciate each and every outing I have on it.

I was looking back at the history of when I got this bike and started working on it and realized it had been over two years in the making. I still can't believe my luck in finding and getting this bike, and really enjoyed completing the restoration. You can see the original post documenting the finding of the bike in Doog Bradbnury's attic here. If you pick up a copy of Dirt Rag #206 you can see a nice write up on the bike and a bit of the history background of how it came to be and what it represents in terms of the development history of the Yeti Alloy Racing Composite (ARC).

I've discussed the unique details of this frame in the past and so I won't go into that detailed discussion yet again in this write-up and so I encourage any of you who are seeing this bike here for the first time to read the prior post in the link above.

What follows is the culmination of two plus years of restoration, repairs and research to complete one of the first prototypes of the fabled Yeti ARC and the actual, two time World Cup winning race bike of Juli Furtado. The build here represents the bike as it was at the start of the season. I didn't have a ton of info to go off of to complete this restoration. The most complete set of photos came from a French magazine and it showed the configuration of the bike at the very start of the 91 season. The parts appeared to have been directly taken off of Juli's C-26 and were perhaps later swapped back as she changed a few items throughout the early part of the season. I could have taken a few liberties and ran XT STIs or even a few XTR bits which Juli got early to test, but this initial build really spoke to me with its milled out brake lever and shifter mounts and the simple, tried and true XT components. I also really liked the lack of the ARC decals on this bike as it really predated that naming convention and so as a complete package it was really the ideal choice IMO.

Finding the original stem would have been impossible so I turned to the man who without a doubt made it for Juli back in the day, FTW. Frank did an impeccable job making a replica steel Yeti stem, even going so far as to use old stock tubing and aging it to give it that worn look.

Frank also wrote down the dimensions of the stem underneath, just like he would have done all those years ago. I love those little touches on bikes like these as they make the whole project really stand out and give it a degree or authenticity that is difficult to pull off otherwise.

Unlike Juli's later ARC which had a few brightly anodized components, this early build is rather sedate. The few splashes of color present are courtesy of the bright ODI Attack grips and some day glo orange Onza decals.

Custom, hand machined cable stops were the earliest iteration used on the ARCs. The 2nd version of the ARC actually had riveted on FRO cable stops welded onto a triangular piece of steel.

I did my best to locate original decals and replicate missing ones but there were two decals I was unable to locate and I didn't have sufficiently detailed photos to go off of in order to replicate them.

As far as actual collectable mountain bikes old team or race bikes are my favorite bar none, I love all the team unique details, sponsor decals and the race pedigree. Sadly, I have yet to come across an old race bike (with some serious chops) that actually fits me, seems MTB racers back then were short. Sigh...

The one piece continuous rear section and the BB junction with the FRO like wishbone is THE detail that sets this Yeti apart from other ARCs after it. Only two prototypes were made with this design and this is the only one remaining, the other was cut up by Chris Herting during the development of the ARC-AS softail.

When I got the bike the seat tube was cracked, a silly thing given that it most likely broke not because of use but rather because it was left with the seat binder bolt tightened which put an excessive load on the nearly 30 year old and brittle material. Once again FTW came to the rescue and with some careful localized blending I doubt anyone would ever notice that a repair took place here.

This is one of the few ARCs that didn't have a cracked headtube, almost hard to believe!

The fork on this particular bike is what's commonly referred to as the 2nd generation Bradbury Manitou. For all intents and purposes it's identical to the Answer Manitou 1 released in the later part of 1991 at which time Doug slowly stopped making his own forks. This fork has slightly longer travel compared to a stock unit, and by slightly longer I mean it's closer to 2" as compared to 1.5". That's in ideal circumstances and with softer bumpers. Set up with a blend of medium/firm it still gets about 1.5". All those extra stanchions are good for in reality is to slacken the front end.

I don't care how many times I see this serial number it never gets old...

The small size of this frame makes for a really busy rear end with cables running close to each other and forcing somewhat tight runs of the brake housing. Luckily the old style 6mm housing is softer and conforms a bit better to the tight routing. Running low profile brake in the rear and was a nice touch and I'm happy I was able to find enough info about the bike to catch this detail.

I'm sure people will disagree and point to some amazing fillet brazed steel beauty, but for me this is one of the sexiest rear ends on a bike ever made. Think about it for just one moment, the entire rear end is made from one continuous Aluminum tube, that's with contoured chainstays to boot!!!

Keep thinking about it!!

As another epic projects come to a close I can't help but reflect on the scarcity of finds like these and the opportunity to work on something truly amazing. When I first got into collecting and restoring mountain bikes these bikes seemed unattainable and almost otherworldly. Most of us assumed they were broken, busted and buried under a mountain of rubble or simply lost to time. Since then a surprising number of them have turned up and made their way into the hands of collectors. I've been fortunate to have a few pass through my hands and am happier for it. However there was always a finite number of them and now fewer left unaccounted. So, while I'm proud of this work and happy to have seen it through to the end, I'm left feeling a bit sad that this particular ride is over and that I may not get another opportunity like this for a long time to come if ever again. So, I'll take my time making a few last tweaks here and there and relish the time I had to work on it and remember that it helped connect me with some truly amazing people and the relationships that came from that. In the end I think that's a good story and one I'll remember long after the smell of melted elastomers and fresh rubber is gone from my memory.

Love it or hate it, this frame has loads of character. It wasn't enough for Richard Cunningham and the crew at Mantis to create one of the more unique frame designs of the 80s with the X-frame, but they decided to up the ante by incorporating their elevated chainstay concept and create the Valkyrie.

The Valkyrie or the Valkyrie EC as some refer to it became on the of the more iconic mountain bikes concepts and essentially sparked the elevated chainstay revolution, however brief it may have ended up. The original X frame was first built in 1986/87 and as best as I can surmise 15 or so non-elevated frames were made. Richard put to torch to each one personally, and they were essentially his magnum opus. The elevated Valkyrie came out in 1989 and remained the only steel Mantis available until 1992-93 when Richard sold the company. Although I have not dug too deeply into the build quantiles of the elevated version it seems that many more were made, and I'd put forward a figure of 50 or so frames as a possible build total.

Before I get into it, here are some interesting figures you may want to think about before you really judge the bike. First, an average mountain bike is made of approximately 10 pieces of tubing (HT, ST, DT, TT, stays, BB shell and maybe a brake bridge) - the Valkyrie has 13 plus all the little braze ones. Then there are the sheer number of welded junctions at 28 (not counting the cable guides/stops and the compound joints in a few places) vs the normal 15 or so... all of this means that a lot of work went into this bike!!

I've been working on this bike since around 2014 when I bought the frame on eBay in a rather sorry state. Basically only the frame was salvageable as the rest of the components including key things like the stem and fork were not correct. I was able to source a fork by sacrificing a Mantis XCR which made do with a Rock Shox RS-1. I was lucky to find an original Mantis stem down the road and so the game was on.

For the build I decided to go with a mix of American Classic, Shimano XT and featuring Cook Bros cranks and Grafton Speed Controller brakes. I have never used AC components and have always liked their quality and aesthetics. I always thought that the later elevated Valkyries were ideal candidates for a high end build and so rather than go for the typical heavy on the anodizing Ringle/Grafton build I opted for a more subtle but still somewhat edgy build. About the only thing I didn't use from AC were their quick releases as they were mostly painted black and I was unable to find a nice enough pair that when stripped would polish up nicely. So, that remains as something to correct in the future.

There are so many details to talk about on this bike. Starting with the overall frame construction there are two things that I think people notice first. One is of course the elevated chainstay, which for many people today is quite unique. Those of use who were around in the late 80s and 90s instantly recognize it as a has been design trend, but still interesting. Personally I think the regular X-frame was perfect as it was and I feel that incorporating the EC design into it was the wrong decision. It makes the bike heavier, much much more flexy, prone to failure at the seat tube joint and lastly and maybe most on the nose for me it makes an otherwise gorgeous bike look like something from a sci-fi movie. It just looks a bit too edgy and I think that is in stark contrast to the quality of craftsman ship that went into making it. I don't know, it's just too much for me.

The second major talking point is of course the main triangle with its unique twin lateral cross members. The design concept here was to use smaller diameter and therefore lighter tubing and achieve the same or even greater level of overall frame strength. RC has said in the past that he got this idea after doing some frame strength testing for Gary Fisher and they ended up testing an old Schwinn frame and realized that it was incredibly strong compared to the light weight steel Fisher frames of the time.

This being a late product Valkyrie the ends of the laterals have smooth shaped ends as opposed to the the earlier scalloped ends featured on the early X's. Personally I prefer the older versions (see my old 87 X frame) but whichever one you like either design makes for a wonderfully intricate headtube junction with the downtube.

The Mantis stem is a beautiful design. The ovalized section of the stem creates a strong joint at the quill portion and the fillet brazed junction with the handlebar clamp puts just the right amount of flair in a highly visible and less stressing joint. I really enjoy the mix of TIG and FBd joints on this bike and the thought that went into the choice between outright strength and the aesthetics. The internal brake cable routing is clean and results in a fairly smooth cable action. Under most circumstances I feel that the later Mantis bikes are best served with an aftermarket stem as RC stopped making these stems around 88-89, but I also really like the way it looks on the bike and have seen original elevated Valkyries equipped with the stems so I feel it's the perfect choice for this bike.

A Little more detail of the handlebar clamp transition. The little ridge on the centerline is reminiscent of the filed ridge on the early fillet brazed XCRs.

RC has said before that he left most of his fillets un filed, however this bike shows very smooth welds all around. So, I'm not sure if he changed his tune in later years or if some other welders did the finishing work resulting in the smooth, flowing fillets found on this and some other later Valkyries.

The amount of little guides and cable routing tubes on this bike is borderline funny. In a way they are all interesting little touches that add character. Another way to look at them are fixes required to enable the crazy design of this frame to still support the basic functionality that enables this bike to actually be ridden.

I think it's interesting that RC put all this work into the welds on the frame only to leave the fork with the relatively rough by comparison TIG welds. He did comment that he used TIG welds where they were needed for strength which I recognize the fork crown requires, but he could have put a light fillet over them to let the fork at least match the frame for aesthetics.

The American Classic headset is one of the more unusual designs, echoing some of the early Mavic designs. The headset eschews classic headset wrenches and I must say is somewhat challenging to install if the threads aren't perfect. I still really dig it!

I haven't ridden this bike, but I'd imagine there to be a fair amount of compliance in the BB shell...

One of my favorite viewing angles on this bike (no pun intended)

Fun aside. The decals on this bike are actually chrome inlays that were laid down and painted over and then the masks removed. This specific material was originally used on Merckx frames.

I may be a bit hard on this bike, but it's a degree of criticism usually resulting from a deep appreciation that can only be achieved by investing several years into a project. The elevated chainstay Valkyrie is a close derivative of one of my all time favorite bikes (the X frame) and to top it off I have spent nearly four years restoring it and building it up resulting in very high expectations. For me the first innovation that resulted in the original X/Valkyrie was the one and I would have left it there. In my opinion that added not only character but was practical and resulted in a fabulous ride. The elevated chainstay modification adds pretty much nothing but complexity. I say this largely based on the learned complexity in building this bike and off of input of others who have some serious saddle time in one (ride review on the non elevated Valkyrie here). Though I have to admit I haven't known anyone who's had any significant hours on both, a testament to how rare these bikes are.

So in the end I think this is a rad bike, a crazy outlandish design, executed with a high degree of craftsmanship and flair. It's a standout design that is sure to get attention anywhere it goes and if you don't demand the world from it can be a capable mountain bike.

I've been a fan of Grove Innovations since I first discovered mountain bikes back in the 80s. They were never quite in reach when I wanted one, and by the time I could afford one they were no longer available. Living out west for the past 14 years I was lucky to come across a couple of Groves, but in the end there was only one that mattered, the Hard Core. I've written about my personal Hard Core before, but until recently I had relatively little understanding of its development history. I'm working on a more detailed writeup on that subject, but for now I just want to share this bike as it's one of the more rad Groves I've ever had the pleasure of working on.

Chief among the traits of the Grove brand are the outrageous paint jobs and this bike doesn't disappoint. With its five color neon fade with artfully applied splatter this is a head turner no matter which angle you approach it from. This particular Hard Core is the 7th one built (09/89) and still carries most of the traits of the original prototype. While it has the massive 2" down tube and the segmented fork it still uses a modified rear triangle from an Assault and a normal 12.7" bottom bracket height. The later Hard Cores eventually moved to a 13.5" high bottom bracket and had a unique rear triangles design and a larger down tube. In a way these early Hard Cores were a beefier, more aggressive Assault and not yet the rock garden crushing freeride machines they ultimately evolved into.

The sleeved seat tube cluster is a direct carry over from the Assault and was ultimately replaced with a larger seat tube for the main "production" run of the Hard Core.

I've said before to anyone who'll listed, but in my opinion the build construction on Groves is really amazing. Although the features can appear large and vulgar at a distance, if you look closely you can barely see any evidence of construction, it really does feel like the bikes were welded from the inside out. The subtle details such as the scallops on the fork dropouts or the brazing on the horizontal dropouts of frame are a testament to the skills possessed by the craftsmen who built these bikes.

I always thought the chain stays on this bike looked a bit spindly in contrast to the oversize main triangle, but they give the rear end a degree of compliance that enhances the ride. The rather stiff front end results in very precise steering and a imbues the rider with the confidence to approach most obstacles head on, while the inherent flex of the rear end balances things out and actually makes this a capable cross country bike.

This is one of the stiffest bottom bracket junctions in the industry, absolutely zero flex!

This is one of my favorite parts of the bike, mainly due to the color selection and the transition located right at the brake posts, but also the size and shape of the brake bridge and how it mirrors the chainstay bridge.

I haven't measured them in comparison to the later ones, but the Suntour dropouts on this bike appear thicker and chunkier than the ones used on my 91 HC. Also the brazing on the stays where they join the dropouts are a little less refined than on the later bikes.

This has to be one of my favorite grove paint jobs thus far. I could almost see some green worked in there, but as it stands the transitions are amazing and while it's a cliche it's just damn vibrant.

The only thing I don't like about this bike is its size. If it were only one size larger I would be tearing it up but sadly it's just too small for me. It does offer some excellent inspiration for a paint job for my Assault though.

I'm almost ten years into my second foray of collecting and restoring vintage mountain bikes and have arrived at a point where I feel like even my modest collection is weighing heavily on my mind. Seeing the fallout of the MOMBAT collection liquidation, and feeling at times burdened with the constant maintenance and upkeep of twenty plus bikes, coupled with the cost of missed opportunities due to the financial investment I have in my collection, has given me pause and caused me to rethink my goals. When I started back into the vintage MTB scene in 2009 I cared much more about simply owning bikes than I did about riding them or documenting their history. Over the past few years though I've felt a shift in that focus and now I much more enjoy getting out and riding and simply just talking to people about them or more recently writing about them. Another factor was our move from SoCal to Maryland last year. In early 2017 I packed all of my bikes and due to multiple moves and a load of new life adventures fewer than a fourth of them have come out of their boxes in the last 16 months... that fact alone made me realize that some of them I don't really miss and could probably live without.

Over the past ten years I've owned some amazing bikes, some moved on but many of them are still with me. I've let go of some bikes that I would have put in the "I'll never sell this" category in the past. So, the idea of reducing the count even further is a hard pill to swallow, but I've come to realize that if I don't I risk the chance of falling out of love with bikes and I feel that at this point in my life it could be quite irreversible and very detrimental to my overall well being.

So, with that in mind I've decided to set some realistic and achievable goals for the 2018-2019 timeframe. I didn't think I could just drop it all, nor do I really want to, but a drastic cut is necessary. While this would be the first calculated and purposeful reduction, it's not the first in general. Getting ready to leave LA (and shortly after arriving in MD) prompted me to sell off a few bikes I wasn't really riding, or in one case that I had a better version of and that I felt would find better homes elsewhere. Among that list were a couple heavy hitters including, 1983 Mantis XCR, 1989 Yeti C-26, 1985 Yeti #1, 1990 Bradbury Manitou, 1986 Yeti FRO, 1989 Yeti Ultimate and a 1990 Fat Chance Yo Eddy.

After these cuts my personal collection numbers about 25 bikes and I've decided that a manageable goal should be 10 or fewer vintage mountain bikes by the end of 2019. With a list that includes a two WTB Phoenixes, a Cunningham, couple Kleins/Merlins/Manitous and a few others notable mentions cutting any single one feels like a daunting challenge. The fact remains that some of these bikes rarely get ridden and simply keeping them around to collect dust doesn't seem like the right approach from my perspective. So, I've set two goals for myself to try and get things under control. The first objective is to get down to ten or fewer personal bikes by the end of 2019. The second is to reduce and focus the work I undertake as Second Spin to five or fewer bikes a year and make sure that they are bikes that offer a unique experience from both the technical execution perspective of a restoration but also gain the opportunity to ride some unique bikes and explore the boundaries of technology in the early days of mountain biking. A third goal is to expand my involvement in the broader mountain bike community via engagements like my new column in Dirt Rag and a few other channels I've been working on including a brand new website aiming to document history of the bike brands I've grown to know and love over the past ten or so years.

In support of the first, and to be honest primary objective I plan on pushing forward to complete remaining personal projects, dust off a bikes I've owned for a while and which haven't seen much use and lastly update reviews on my favorite bikes and see where they all rank and stack. In the near term I'll be redoing photo shoots and ride reviews on a couple bikes which have been a staple of my riding fleet but maybe have received some upgrades or modifications and are due for a refresh or update.

Hopefully many of you will follow along (look for the #ThinningTheHerd hashtag) with me as I try to manage this process and make some arguably difficult decisions. Personally I'm looking forward to a renewed focus, some introspection and hopefully a lot more free time to engage on new and interesting pursuits related to vintage mountain bikes and their history.

I figured I'd kick off the #Thinningtheherd series with a bike that while vintage, and a mountain bike resides outside of the group of collectable bikes I'm working to reduce to a manageable level. As such I'm considering giving it a coveted 11th spot on the list of keepers. That remains to be seen though.

Upon moving to Maryland I noticed that there were very few mountains nearby and that in order to rack up any serious miles I'd need to work commuting into my repertoire of weekly biking. None of this was in the brochure... Naturally I parlayed this into a new requirement for a commuter bike, because bikes right? I knew I didn't want anything super roadie or high end mountain but did want something cool and vintage inspired. I remembered reading a bunch of reviews on the Wicked and everyone always described its ride as much more compliant than that of a Yo Eddy. While this doesn't really fit my MO for a mountain bike I thought it might make a nice commuter. So, as usual when the chance came to snag a nice 19" Wicked with a custom Igleheart segmented fork I plopped down the green and had myself the makings of a street sled. This particular Wicked is a somewhat hard to find 21" frame was welded by none other than Fat Chance's head welder Scott Bangston in June of 1989.

A quick rummage around the ole storage shed turned up a nice set of Mavic hoops, a salsa P7 high rise stem, some WTB dirt drops and Dura Ace bar cons. Aside from a hunt for some Shimano 105 Aero brake levers the rest came together quite easily and I was able to pull the bike together relatively easily.

Knowing that the commute didn't hold any significant elevation gain I decided to ditch the granny gear off the Shimano M730 cranks and keep the 34/48 middle and outer and toss on a 12-21 corncob freewheel with a Dura Ace 7410 rear derailleur for a semi sporty 2x7 combo. All in all the setup is pretty decent and unless I'm feeling tired I tend to stay in the big ring and row the rear to accommodate the occasional increase in grade or headwind as I round the airport.

The drivetrain looks clean and uncluttered and is quite functional for its intended purpose. I could probably tweak it a bit, but overall I'm quite happy with how it turned out.

This is my first bike in a long long time with anything other than a flat bar and I have to say I really like it. I suppose that a wider bar might be better suited, but hanging in the drops is pretty comfortable. I like to change up hand position from time to time and find that riding on the hoods feels a bit cramped. I suppose I could go for non period correct drops like Salsa Woodchippers and improve the overall ride position. Something I'm willing to consider.

While I might not choose the barcon shifters for an off road application they work quite well here and I like the feel and action of the levers. All in all getting to spend some time with this cockpit convinced me to try it on my upcoming steel WTB Phoenix built, albeit with non Aero levers and WTB shifter perches, so somewhat different. In terms of a commuter this setup is pretty dialed in and over an hour long commute I find versatile and comfortable. Not sure how I'd feel about any long distance treks, but luckily it's not something I have to worry about for now.

One of the big surprises of this build were the absolutely amazingly smooth Mavic hubs. These things are so underrated that you practically never see them used on older bikes. These hubs here are actually the road version rather than the MTB oriented Dakar models that can be found on older bikes from time to time. What they are is nothing short of phenomenal though. The bearings are some of the smoothest I have felt in a long time and the build quality and fit and finish are also second to none. I almost want to find another bike to build around these wheels... Maybe in keeping with the theme here I'll do a Mavic bearing build on the Team Comp...

One of the highlights of this build is the Igleheart segmented fork with a rifled steerer tube. The fork alone made buying this bike a no brainer and has proven to complement the frame superbly. The domed dropouts are a very cool custom touch and while they make removing the front wheel slightly cumbersome they give the bike an aggressive and yet still classic look.

While the Wicked could have been purchased with a segmented crown fork originally as a custom option it wasn't very common choice. The stiff quality of the fork would have counteracted the compliant nature of the frame which would be better complemented by a curved blade unicrown.

Chris Igleheart is largely credited with the design and manufacture of the original segmented Yo Eddy fork and is currently building the forks for brand new Fats built by Chris Chance and company. The quality of the craftsmanship on his fork is amazing and the fork is as beautiful to behold as it is to ride.

I always loved that little piece of web between the seat stays. It's a nice touch and in my opinion an easy to way to tell a Fat apart from other bikes, that and the bullet stay caps.

In terms of some storage and cargo capacity I mostly rely on the Oveja Negra frame and saddle packs with the Bruce Gordon rack only filling in on days where I need to take my laptop home. I really love the Oveja Negra products and would love to build a bikepacking bike someday with some of their larger capacity bags. Someday...

I had the Brooks saddle sitting around from another build and never really had a good use for it, but it really works here. Like I said earlier, aside from a few specific components and the bags I mostly built this bike out of things I had lying around and somehow it all came together to make a pretty rad machine. The tires are Compass Rat Traps and so far, aside from a couple snow days they've been amazing. Quiet, smooth, fast and light... just not cheap. I'd recommend these to anyone looking to cover some ground and do so in relative comfort. I'm running them at around 65-70 psi and the ride is nothing short of supple.

This bike was a surprise find, a fast and effortless build and a total thrill on the trail. I have made a couple small tweaks along the way, mostly to improve the cargo capacity and safety but mostly it has remained in the same configuration since day one. I was going to swap in some gucci brakes but decided that the M732s are fine for my purposes and left good enough alone.

So where does it rack and stack on the list?? Well, it doesn't hold a candle to most of my off road bikes on any aspect, but then again that's not why I built it. Prior to getting this bike I commuted on the Merlin and surprisingly I hated it. While I love that bike off road it was just terrible as a day in day out rider. Maybe it's like driving a Porsche in traffic, it's fine but all along it years to be out on the open road pushing the rec counter deep into the red. This Wicked however has no such problems. It and by extension I am fine ambling along through a crowded bike path, doding oblivious runners or in an all out sprint through a winding section of the trail. It's fun in the dry and poised in the wet and dare I say it looks freaking hawt! So, the final verdict is...

If you've been following my posts over the past couple of years you've undoubtedly seen this bike make a couple appearances. This was one of the few bikes I owned where I skipped all of the fancy photo shoots with vintage tires and went straight for the dirt (see first post here). This was always going to be a rider, and while it's no slouch when it comes to rarity and cool factor, it doesn't necessarily wow at first glance. Now as I attempt to narrow my collection and spend more time riding, I am making my way through my stable and making some hard decisions about what to keep and what to pass on. People collect bikes for a multitude of reasons, but at the top of my evaluation criteria is how a bike rides. I've had this bike for about 18 months now and have put significant miles on it and I've gotten to know it pretty well and feel that it's a good time to clean it up and give it a proper photo shoot and establish its place in the lineup.

In the way of background this bike is the prototype Titanium Phoenix built by Steve Potts for Mark Slate in or around 1997. The eventual Ti Phoenix came out officially in 1998 as a production model along the the steel Phoenix. Although not a mainstream bike by any means the original Phoenix was already regarded as an all around great bike and so the development of a Titanium variant seemed like a natural step to take. Because, you know... everything is better in Titanium!!

The seat tube cluster is another unique feature of this frame. The production Ti Phoenix had an oversize 1.5" seat tube which necessitated the use a bottom bracket mounted, e-type front derailleur. This particular frame, has a 1 3/8" seat tube which enables the use of a more traditional 34.9/35.0 clamp on front derailleur. To reinforce the seat tube at the seat cluster is reinforced with a thicker wall sleeve which is then welded to the rest of the seat tube, hence the visible bead just below the seat cluster.Rounding out the details on geometry, the bike sports a 71 degree head tube, 72 degree seat tube, 16.0" chainstays, 42.5" wheelbase, 2.8" of trail. This makes for a bike that is capable in tight and technical trail riding, stable on fast and sweeping fire roads and a very adapt climber.

Early builders of Titanium bikes suffered from a lack of material availability. By the mid 90s however Titanium was becoming more mainstream and a multiple manufacturers were supplying the industry with a greater diversity of tubing sizes as well offering to make custom tubing. This transition enabled companies to essentially build oversized tubing Titanium bikes, which in turn resulted in lighter and stiffer frames with a previously unattainable degree of performance. Unlike Merlin which had been building Titanium bikes since the mid 80s and was now exploring ultra light tubing, WTBs first and only foray into Ti focused more the overall result as a system rather than pushing the limits of any one design dimension. So, while my 21.5" Merlin XLM weighs in at around 22.4 lbs the 19.5" Ti Phoenix tips the scales at 25.8 lbs, with 0.6 lbs of that difference attributed to the frame. However, for whatever reason that weight completely disappears underneath you when riding the Phoenix and in some ways I feel like the weight may work for my riding style. What I mean is the XLM while super light, nimble and quick to accelerate feels like it bounces off of obstacles (see my Adroit review for a similar feel) and is easily thrown off course, while the Phoenix is very planted and sure footed. It has better traction, handles technical sections much better and never really feels heavy.

The custom, hooded dropouts are quite trick and work really well. I actually really like the way the stays are welded right to the dropout dome which I think creates a strong junction.

When you look at a Phoenix, either a steel or Ti one you get a sense of a minimalist design. Sure, a lot of design effort went into the bike, and the craftsmanship quality is excellent, but it looks spartan and bare next to many contemporary bikes. This design aesthetic reflects the overall style of WTB and its founders. Unlike the vast majority of the then flourishing mountain bike cottage industry WTB always created subtle yet effective products. They never bought into the anodize craze, never made white tires and aside from an occasional flashy paint job pretty much stuck to the basics; making good looking stuff that worked in the real world. This is perhaps why their bikes and components are among the most desirable vintage MTB gear out there.

The pressed in bottom bracket distinguishes this Phoenix from production bikes, but it's somewhat limiting in the way of drive train options. Luckily it came with a spindle length that supports running Suntour Micro Drive cranks which when coupled with an 8-spd 11-28 M737 rear cluster actually makes for a really usable gear combination. I've thought about going up to 32 rear cassette, but so far I've not felt like there was a situation where I couldn't push the granny.

The Ti Phoenix carries over the 140mm rear spacing which allows for a reduced dish wheel, making for a stronger and stiffer rear end. This feature was a carry over from Cunninghams and became standard on the steel Phoenix starting in 1996.

To accommodate the wide spacing a custom WTB New Paradigm rear hub with a wider axle was used. I've had to shim the hub to dial the play out of the axle, but aside from that it's working out pretty well. I feel like this hub is one of the weaker products to come out of WTB and if I weren't such a stickler for a correct build theme I'd swap it out for a Chris King in a heartbeat, who knows I may yet do it.

There weren't too many companies making oversized 31.8mm seatposts so since the introduction of the Phoenix in 1993 WTB made their own posts available. Essentially a Suntour XC/XC-Pro seatpost head cut off, sleeved, press fit into a custom made 1.25" Aluminum tube and pinned in place.

While not as fancy as the early hand made quill version of the Powerband stems the later threadless models were still pretty fetching.

Unlike the later versions of this stem which feature the cheaper looking, flat clamp bands this particular version has the machined, beveled clamps found on the quill stems. I've seen this on some of the earlier releases of this stem, but it's hard to say how long WTB sold them in this configuration. By 1997 both the quill and ahead version had the ugly flat clamps, and eventually they used a normal pinch bolt clamp like most other manufacturers.

Perhaps the crown jewel of this bike is the WTB Speedmaster Lever Link brake. This design marks the final evolution of the Speedmaster brake and while it's a bit finicky to setup it's such a great brake to use on the trail. The Lever Link (along with the Saber cam, which this particular brake once used as evidenced by the hole on the NDS arm) were WTBs answer for suspension forks which would not support the traditional Roller or Toggle cam versions. The designs were complicated and came a bit too late and never caught on. Consequently they are some of the rarest brakes ever made which is a shame as they really are pretty amazing!

The rear brake is a Toggle cam version of the Speedmaster and while the came had to be modified to support the cable routing the setup is fairly standard. The Toggle Cam or TC as it's commonly known is truly one of the best brakes on the market. The excellent lever feel, the ability to adjust brake reach for worn out pads and the solid

I had to adjust the shape of the cam plate, not the actual profile of the cam to ensure cable routing was smooth and linear.

One of the best rear ends in the business

I really can't stress enough how great this brake is. If you get a chance to ride a bike equipped with one do it. They are really one of my favorite brakes out there.

Ovalized chainstays are a cool feature, too bad tire clearance is tight and this 2.25 is about the largest tire the rear end can accommodate.

If this bike really is the prototype Ti Phoenix, it would also make it the first Titanium bike made by Steve Potts! That's a cool bit...

The lack of a serial number lends credibility to the prototype story.

As I said in the beginning, WTB took an awesome bike and made it amazing! The combination of Cunningham geometry, Titanium tubing and Speedmaster brakes results in a bike that is at home in virtually any terrain. I've ridden this bike on varied terrain on both coasts and through it all it's one of my favorite bikes. I've done long 9 mile 4000' climbs, I've descended on fast and technical terrain, conquered short, wet and punchy climbs and through it all the bike makes it all effortless. I've read a description of the Phoenix on someone else's blog (can't recall who) when I was first researching the bike and they said that "the wining quality of the Phoenix was that it appears to disappear beneath you"- I wish I'd come up with that, but it's completely true. Perhaps the only bike I like to ride more than this is my Cunningham. So, while the fact that this bike is a solid, no doubt, keeper it does set a very high bar for the steel Phoenix I'm building and frankly I'm not sure my stable has room for two. Perhaps a shootout between the two bikes will be a good way to settle it.

Grove Innovations was never a huge brand, it never attained the popularity of Fat Chance, Potts or Ritchey to name a few. For the most part it remained a regional favorite much like Brave, Ted Wojcik or Off Road Toad. Lucky for me I happened to grow up in that region and have always had an affinity for Groves. Because of that fact I may have looked past what some people consider as quirky designs and have spent considerable time working on and riding Groves. What began as an adolescent interest has matured into an adult appreciation for not only the unique ride and the wild paint jobs but also the craftsmanship and the history behind the people who made these amazing bikes.

This is the first time I've had a Grove Assault and as far as Assaults go this is a pretty cool one. Not only is at a very early frame (#7) but it's an ex-team bike with a custom paintjob only available to factory sponsored racers. The bike as show is for the most part how it was raced back in the 80s and 90s. I've made a couple small changes including installing a pair of Grove Hotrod cranks and swapping black XT components in for the old silver ones.

Unlike the Hard Core which was designed to be a free ride (before that was a think) bike and the X-Fame while meant to be a traditional riding bike looked anything but, the Assault was the traditional or classic looking and riding bike in the lineup. Employing what was at the time considered race geometry (70 HT, 72.5 ST, 16.75" CS) the Assault was built as an all our race bike.

I've been working on restoring an Assault for myself for some time and the paint job I was trying to achieve just isn't working, so when this bike came across my desk I was very excited. Sadly, though it's just too small and I don't think I can make it work in the long run. That being said I'll focus this post more on the quality of the bike and attempt a ride report when my Assault is complete.

I think that because most people overlook Groves due to the somewhat quirky nature of some of their designs or because those that have them focus so much on the paint few people really take a close look at the quality of the bikes.The construction of each and every Grove was done by a small group of passionate enthusiast and each bike was made by hand. One of the things I learned about Grove at a get together of former Grove employees is that a contributing factor to Grove's ultimate demise was their inability to ramp up production to meet demand. Now I recognize that there are multiple reasons that could have caused that, however after speaking with Bill and Randy they indicated that they just couldn't find enough people who could do the job in a manner they were happy with. Effectively their attention to detail, the degree to which they meticulously combined TIG welding and brazing on each frame was not suitable to a mass production process. One might argue that others were able to do that and prosper (Ritchey comes to mind), however if you pay attention Tom outsourced a lot of his work to Taiwan and only hand built a small portion of his frames. Those foreign built bikes are no slouches but they lack that personal touch that some people really want and apparently the team at Grove was not willing to relinquish. So, in the end Grove faded but luckily not before they made some amazing bikes!

Grove wasn't the first to do top tube cable routing, but I really like the way they split the cables across the two sides, it's not as cluttered and gives it a bit more balanced look, not to mention the impact on weight distribution <G>

I'm also partial to the forward facing seat post binder, keeping the binder within the boundaries of the main triangle looks more attractive to me and I don't know whether it's a placebo but I feel like I don't rub against the QR lever as much in this orientation.

Rear triangle includes an elegant brake bridge and stiffener bar. Cable routing is fairly clean (assuming I've done it properly) and overall things are pretty tidy and clean.

The Grove Hot Rod cranks are one of my favorite vintage mountain bike components. Unlike the Bullseye cranks, which while cool looking these are actually functional. Apparently Bill actually designed the two piece cranks before Roger Durham of Bullseye, but his design was superior. Not only did the Grove cranks employ a functional sealed cartridge bearing set (2 pers size) but rather than use a spline on the mating side for the loose crank arm he employed a machined triangular interface which enabled easy alignment of the arm and a kept it from shifting under load. I'm planning a dedicated post on these sometime in the future.

Love love the uniqueness of the crackle effect on these Hammerheads. These paint compounds are no longer available and for the most part achieving these types of finishes is a lost art.

Though it's just an add on decal, the Team moniker makes the bike standout. As far as I can tell the decal and the paintjob are the only differentiating factors of this Assault from one you or I could have bought back then.

The Assault is exactly what I think a vintage mountain bike should look like. So, while Grove Innovations never attained the mainstream population that brands like Fat Chance or Merlin enjoyed their bike should not be thought of as lesser in any way. In my opinion, ounce for ounce they posses all the quality and capability of virtually any competitive bike on the market at the time. While I haven't really given this bike a proper off road trial, at first blush it appears to be a fun and responsive bike and I'm looking forward to more saddle time to really get to know the bike.

I fell in love with Titanium when I got my first Merlin, coincidentally that's also when I fell in love with Merlins. My first Merlin is an 88/89 and though not the earliest Ti bike it's hardly the pinnacle of sophistication as far material and frame design. By the time the mid 90s rolled around Titanium had been fully embraced by the bicycle manufacturers with no fewer than 15 offering Titanium models. In response to the increased adoption of Titanium alloys by the bicycle industry the metal manufacturers began offering custom drawn tubing to meet the individual demands of the manufacturers. Merlin being the first adopter and one of the largest builder of Titanium bikes was definitely pushing the envelope of ultra light frame construction.

The XLM (Extralite Mountain) was first introduced in 1995 and was meant to be the most advanced and lightweight Titanium mountain bike Merlin could make. As such the tubing was custom drawn and unlike other Merlin models is double butted on most sections. Merlin first introduced the ultralight concept with the Extralight road bike in 1993 and transferred their experience from building ultra light yet stiff frames to mountain bikes. The result was a sub 3 pound rocket ship designed to work with the latest mountain bike suspension forks and components on the market.

I set out to build this as an aggressive XC bike and wanted it to be something I could ride and be about as modern as a vintage MTB could be. With that in mind I decided to try a somewhat more modern suspension fork over the recommended Judy (more on that later) and breaking with tradition opted for Shimano's M950 grouppo. While I didn't intentionally set out to make an ultra light bike, I ended up using an all Titanium cockpit with Seven Cycles stem and bar and a Syncros Ti post. With all that thrown together the XLM tips the scales at 21.38 lbs with modern 2.25 tires to boot. In comparison, my rigid 1988 Merlin is around 24.7lbs and the 97 Titanium Phoenix with a Judy SL is around 24.2 lbs.

Though not really period correct the Seven Cycles bar and stem work really well and from a lineage perspective are well suited for a Merlin. An Ibis Titanium bar and stem would be more appropriate but I wanted to get this thing built and ridden and wasn't too concerned about making a 100% period correct bike. Given I'm not too inclined to build very colorful bikes and prefer a clean and subtle build most of my Titanium bikes end up looking rather stark. I find that a little dab of color is often needed and like to use different color headset caps, here I ended up going with blue after trying out green and mango. It's not much, but just a little pop of color to offset the otherwise spartan build.

While I am of the opinion that arrival of the M950 grouppo heralded the end of the vintage mountain bike era I must admit that it was some really good kit. Even by modern standards, at least to the limited extent I have experience with actual modern stuff the M950 group stacks pretty well, brakes aside obviously.

I absolutely love Shimano's M900 XTR group, I run it on most of my personal bikes and have always felt it was a remarkable product. I have to admit that Shimano crushed it with the M950 and the overall performance is far better. Shifting is crisp, precise and by comparison effortless. With M900 and most of the groups before it you really had to plan your shifts a few moments early, with M950 that's mostly gone. You can have virtually any gear on demand anytime. While still relatively easy to find today, I predict that in a few years time M950 will be highly sought after and aside from just normal attrition will become as scarce and expensive as M900 is today.

I mentioned the brakes earlier, and of course while not nearly as good as modern disc brakes the introduction of V brakes, which again were a first with the M950 group really drove the nail into the coffin of many of the cottage industry brands making fancy cantilever brakes. I should point out that linear pull brakes had been around for a long time before Shimano made the V brakes, but none were executed as well from a setup and usability perspective as the M950 XTR Vees. I will point out that the pads were a weak point and were loud and chattery. One of the first things I did was change them out for Kool Stops which further improved the performance of these otherwise great brakes. Love it or hate it, the carbon booster is period correct and functional. The XLM is not the flexiest frame, but with the booster in place the rear brakes feel very solid and responsive.

I really like the detail of the seat post collar. The whole design is quite functional and clean. Obviously the larger diameter seat tube would have necessitated a larger diameter seat post, which while increasingly common by the mid 90s was still not as easy to source as a 27.2. So Merlin added an insert to the seat tube effectively shimming it down to 27.2 and then wrapped in a custom seat collar that evenly distributed the clamping force over a larger area. Nicely done boys!

I love the sculpted cable stop for the front derailleur, it's about as minimalist as you can get and a testament to both the craftsmanship and dedication to weight savings Merlin poured into the XLM. All of the stops on this frame seem smaller than other frames, at least the frames I have seen.

Though not rare, the classic 5 bolt spider was a less common option for the new M950 group which was I believe the first to introduce the 4x100 BCD standard which is still dominant today.

It's really amazing to see how far Merlin and the Titanium suppliers progressed in a relatively short amount of time. At the onset of the Titanium bike tubing was so simple, sizes were limited and the builders were still learning how to work with it. Therefore the designs were simple, if not crude. Most notable was the rear triangle. The early bikes had a very simple form enabling the stays to route from the seat tube / bottom bracket to the rear dropouts. Little allowance was given for tire clearance and the end result was not as stiff as it could have been. Fast forward a few years and the rear triangle is a compound shape made of double butted tubing with multiple bends and curves resulting in a beautiful and functional design enabling the use of larger tires and a very laterally stiff yet still compliant rear end.

Not exactly sure why Merlin decided to add rack mounts to this frame, maybe the dropouts were common with the other bikes or maybe they considered that hole added weight savings.

So, what the verdict??? Well, the ride is pretty good. The bike is light, responsive and very predictable. Now, you take any older bike and put on a relatively modern fork and modern large volume tires on it and it's immediately transformed. So, it's hard to say what is really in play here but while going out on some of my favorite local trails the Merlin felt at home in most terrains. Despite its relatively large size the handling is quick and the bike feels agile. Being taller I often opt for a larger sized frame (20" in classic terms) and I feel like often times those larger frames feel a bit sluggish and are not easy to throw around by adjusting my CG, this is less of an issue here. I was trying to think back to my days on Newsboy and see how the XLM compared to it. I remember being wholly unimpressed with the Newsboy, and aside from a sort of unremarkable feel I remember thinking it was a bit of a gate in anything technical (both were 20.5" frames). So, there's that. In terms of comparisons I feel that the XLM is really most like my 94 Klein Adroit. Now, while the Adroit is rigid both bikes are very light and made of just about the thinnest, largest diameter tubing available. In my opinion while that makes the for the lightest and stiffest bike possible, it really makes the bike feel kind of dead or well, hollow. I found that it was sort of bouncy and unlike say the Cunningham or Ti Phoenix it got perturbed rather easily. All that means is that I can't lose sight of my line or track, especially when going through technical sections. This is further exaggerated by fatigue, especially on longer rides and result in a loss of confidence or more frequent offs. The other issue I have, and this is less the bike rather than my build decision is the way it feels with the 80mm SID. The XLM was designed around a Rock Shox Judy and the frame was corrected to support a fork of that travel range. As I mentioned I went with an 80mm SID thinking it should be ok, but that 17mm ended up making more of an impact than I imagined. So, while I appreciate it on technical flat and downhill sections, steep and punchy climbs cause the front wheel to lift and clearing obstacles is also more challenging than on some of my other bikes. In the end I'd probably chose to go back to a Judy or try to limit the travel on the SID and drop the front end down a little bit.

I'll try to get a couple more rides in on this bike this season, but I can't really see keeping it long term. The Ti Phoenix while a couple pounds heavier and running less advanced drivetrain is just a ton more fun than this bike. I can't imagine that swapping in a lower travel fork on the XLM will all of a sudden bridge that gap. So, for now as far as thinning the heard is concerned this bike is a goner!

Unless you've been living in an ice cave or under a rock there is a very good chance that if you're into mountain bikes you've heard of Steve Potts. Steve is among the few of the early mountain bike pioneers who never stopped building and will still deliver you an amazing mountain bike to this day. This 1987 Deluxe is an amazing example of Steve's fillet brazing and one of the nicer fades I've seen on his bikes. All in all it's a really sublime bike with flowing and graceful lines, a true work of art that looks equally good in a gallery and on the trail, as long as it's a mellow trail!

The matching Potts stem is one of the nicest steel stems ever made. These stems fit over a brazed on stub on the fork steerer so the end result is sort of a hybrid threaded / threadless setup.

One of the cooler pieces on this bike is the Fixed Angle Seat Post (FASP) which was a custom option on WTB related bikes. Commonly found on Cunninghams it's a far less common sight on other bikes as it was custom made for each frame to match it's geometry exactly, as you couldn't adjust the angle of the seat once it was made.

A fillet brazed Type 2 forks fitted with a WTB Speedmaster Roller Cam brake rounds out the front end.

I really love this paintjob, it reminds me of classic American cars with the long, drawn out pool cue style fade. The choice of white, blue and gray gives the effect a degree of subtlety while still really standing out.

For some reason the combination of the slim tubing, narrow tires and lack of a seat stay mounted brake doesn't really look good on this bike. Maybe it's the extra large frame that results in the extra length of seat stays above the tire line, but it's just a bit drawn out for my taste.

Wide spacing with a huge bail out rear gear. Good odds the freewheel was custom built to achieve the spread, especially given the attention to detail on the rest of the build and the shop that originally sold the bike.

This bike has stays for days!

The detail of the fillet brazed Type 2 crown is really amazing, really one of the nicest fork designs ever made. Not the lightest, especially in full bling mode, but it simply oozes style.

I find it sort of funny that a bike with so much attention to detail just runs the cables directly over the BB shell. I never really understood this. Not only does it result in excess friction but every shift and brake actuation wears away at the frame. At least CC added a plate to his bikes...

Now, where can I find some 30 year old electrical tape to seal up that grease port???

In the end bikes like these are just a bit too elegant for my taste. I love looking at them, studying the details, and I suppose it would be fun to ride on a smooth fire road on a cool crisp fall day wearing old hiking boots, jeans, flannel shirt and a bandana. However once the looking and admiring is done my cup runs fulls. If I can't find constant joy in exploring a new trail or just having fun ride without worrying about damaging the bike then my interest is diminished. That being said this is a refined bike for a connoisseur to appreciate and take out on nice, leisurely days to hang out at a get together and discuss with other like minded folks, which is something I just don't do that often.

You wouldn't know it at first glance, but behind the subtle and unassuming facade of this bike hides a truly amazing and fun machine. It's taken a little while but I think I pretty much have this bike dialed in and would love to share this update with you.

I originally bought this bike back in 2012 and it took me just under two years to complete the restoration and my initial build. Back then I was just getting my initial exposure into the world on WTB and the Marin culture and this was to be my first bike bearing a nearly complete WTB group.

My first attempt was pretty good (see original post here), but not great. I lacked a proper fork capable of running roller cam brake and a few details remained to get sorted out, but despite that I quickly fell in love with the ride.

Fast forward a year and a Potts CCR donor and my original vision for the bike was nearly complete. While the original Koski fork was actually quite nice, it did chatter a bit under heavy braking and the combination of rear RC and front Shimano cantis felt imbalanced. Adding a custom painted Steve Potts Type 2 and a WTB SpeedMaster roller cam gave the front end a welcome shot of adrenaline. A couple small changes and mods including swapping the white turbo for a nice perforated black, the somewhat boring M730 crank was replaced by a much cooler Cook Bros RSRs complete with matching caps, a wide Titanium bar and a few small tweaks like adding black anodized RC cam plates and color matched o-rings on the Ringle cam twists completed the build. I came very close to getting a WTB fixed angle seat post and a fillet brazed Potts stem which would have been the icing on the cake but that didn't pan out.

I'm incredibly happy with the end result. The build sticks with an overall WTB inspired theme which although may not have been a default configuration for most back in the late 80s, it makes for a sophisticated and yet highly capable off road group.

I've had the chance to build a couple Merlins over the past couple years, and they builds are always challenging. Well, at least in my opinion. Personally I find that Merlins, compared to other bikes have a pretty narrow range of build options. I think WTB or IRD angles are pretty much the best two routes aside from a classic Shimano or Suntour build, but aside from that I feel like loud builds just don't work for these classic frames.

Among the 1" Merlin frames this particular design is more or less the most trail worthy one. The very early bikes (check out this 86 Fat Chance Ti which is really one of the first Merlins) are quite unique and arguably more desirable but due to limitations of materials the tubesets were small diameter and the resulting bikes were flexy and not very memorable off road. By contrast this design was one of the more refined and short of the s-bend stay bikes which are hard to find with 1" head tubes and roller cam mounts which is something I really wanted for this build. By the time this design went into production Merlin had developed its own Titanium 3-2.5 tubeset. The 3-2.5 designation refers to the alloy of Titanium used in the construction of the tubing, it's 94.5% Titanium, 3% Aluminum and 2.5% Vanadium.

It's sort of funny that back in the day words like Titanium, Carbon or the type of Aluminium alloy used in the construction of the bike were prominently featured as a part of the branding. In fact, here it's dual use as it's both the model name and primary material of frame construction.

While there are multitudes of forks capable of mounting roller cam brakes, the Potts Type 2 stands a head above the rest. Not only is the design an absolute classic, but it is a simple joy off road. It's lighter and stiffer than most forks of the era, and yet highly forgiving and compliant. Keeping in theme with the orange o-ring of the WTB / Chris King Grease Guard headset thee fork received a little bit of orange pin striping at the transition between the crown and blades.

Drivetrain options for the late 90s were still pretty limited and if you want reliable performance, then Shimano's XT group was the way to go. This bike is equipped with Shimano XT derailleurs, thumbshifters and brake levers. The bottom bracket is a press in unit with a 17mm Titanium spindle. I'm not sure whether it's a testament to how much I've ridden this bike or the fact that the BB bearings are grossly undersized, but I'm on my second set of bearings in less than three years. The hubs are WTB classic with a custom built, wide range Dura Ace freewheel. Cook Bros RSR cranks with Shimano SG rings round out the drivetrain package.

There is a lot to talk about on this bike, but perhaps the most noticeable are the WTB SpeedMaster Roller Cam brakes. As I said earlier this was my first WTB equipped bike and having grown up on cantilevers and Shimano U-brakes, these brakes were an eye opener. It took a while to learn how to set up these brakes, and I'm sure have room to improve, but they are simply amazing. As this bike is a full on rider I usually switch to modern Kool Stop Eagle pads, and I didn't have time to put on the proper WTB pads to complete the package, getting vintage tires on was enough of a chore. Also, I'm noticing that this bike has yet to receive upgraded pad holder washers like the rest of my WTB fleet. The beveled washers look nice, but are prone to cracking so I had some replacements made in the style that Charlie Cunningham used on his bikes.

I've always loved the seat cluster on these bikes. It's tidy and simple but then you get this cool cable guide made out of Ti tubing and precisely bent around the seat tube. This little bit gets me everytime, it looks like they must have filled them with sand or used a mandrel bending machine as there is no evidence of any deformation as a result of the bends. In addition to that the seat binder was machined out of a solid Titanium rod to ensure durability over a long expected life. Just a testament to the craftsmanship and thought that went into these bikes.

I'm not very big on stickers on my bikes, but this one seemed not only fitting but also kind of subtle and so it doesn't really feel ostentatious.

The water jet cut dropouts were made out of solid chunks of 6-4 Titanium alloy which was much more durable than the 3-2.5 used in the tubeset. While I'm not sure how much use the bike had when I restored it, but the derailleur hanger was in perfect alignment. No matter how you cut it that's over 25 years of use, worth every penny.

Back in the day Titanium bikes came with a variety of finishes. GT and Litespeed were known for their highly polished look, while Merlin, Dean and a few others went for a more satin finish. The latter is definitely not as exciting, but it tends to hide scuffs and scratches and ages really nicely, and is very easy to maintain.

The cockpit is pretty basic with a Salsa Moto stem, a wide WTB Titanium bar and Shimano XT controls. I suppose a Cook Bros or IRD stems might be a bit more saucy, but the Salsa Moto is a classic design and was commonly spec'd on Merlins back in the day.

head on

Final comment on the BB, I think you can clearly see how small the tube and the corresponding bearings are. This is the only real design flaw on this bike, and the only thing that keeps me looking for a 1" s-bend frame with roller cam mounts. The BB junction is quite flexy and the bearings are prone to frequent failure. While this is by no way a deal breaker, I would much rather have a larger diameter, threaded BB shell and a stiffer frame.

While this bike lacks the later model's Grease Guard equipped bottom bracket, all of the remaining bearings are so equipped. This system though long forgotten and a bit of a joke in some circles represents the way some people used to think about bikes. They were meant to not only perform, but last and be easy to service. Sure sealed bearings are nice and can be replaced, but not infinitely. I've had several Ringle hubs that would no longer retain the bearings firmly after pulling the original pair. I've seen modern carbon bikes exhibit the same problem. With this system your year end ritual is quite simple, just inject new grease and wipe away the old, done!

While this Merlin is hardly rare or truly exotic it's easily one of my favorite bikes and at the top of my keeper list. It's a bike I can spend hours on an feel comfortable and one I can go out on and hammer for an hour. At least hammer as much as I can on any bike, which isn't all that much. Suffice it to say, it's a great all around bike that has very few if any limitations when compared to other bikes of the era, and is in fact more durable than most. Lately biking has been became a much bigger part of my mental fitness, I need a good ride to keep myself sane. For that I need a bike that becomes an extension is not something I have to think about, and this bike is just that. You just got out and ride and the bike is there with you, doing what you want and accommodating your mood and ability right then and there. I feel like I never have to worry about gearing, braking, or scratching the bike. It all just works and adds to my enjoyment and ability to stay in the moment. Maybe that's why I like this bike so much.

If you're on the lookout for a vintage Ti bike I strongly recommend an early Merlin (see my review of the 1996 XLM for comparison), you can easily put together a competent build for under a grand and have a cool and historic bike that you can ride on any given day and come away with a big smile. Trust me on this one!

It's strange, I feel like I've known this bike for a long time and at the same time it feels completely foreign to me. Allow me to elaborate. The WTB Phoenix was designed to essentially be a poor man's Cunningham made in slightly higher volumes and more broadly available. While it's far from a common bike these days, they can still be found with relative ease, at least when compared to a Cunningham. Being fortunate enough to own a Cunningham and a Titanium Phoenix I feel like I should have a good sense of what to expect from this bike, and yet I'm feeling unsure. I've wanted a steel Phoenix for some time and I've seen very few in my size and even fewer available for sale. So when an opportunity came up to trade a Manitou for this bike I jumped on it and started what would become a two year restoration.

Being a relative newcomer to the Marin MTB culture I am far from an expert on these bikes, but I'll do my best to describe the Phoenix, its background, production characteristics and variations and hopefully some nice knowledgeable people will politely chime in and offer corrections. A bit of history then. Everyone knows the story of WTB. Charlie, Steve and Mark got their start in the early 80s making mountain bike components and in many ways revolutionized the mountain bike industry with their innovations. Steve and Charlie continued to make bikes on their own throughout that time with Steve building to this day, but for the first decade of WTB's existence they didn't make a bike. Then in 1992 they released the Phoenix. A limited production, hand-made steel frame based on the design of the Cunningham racer but executed using oversize Ritchey Logic Prestige tubing and welded by none other than Steve Potts.

The initial bikes were offered with 1" head tubes, standard 135mm rear spacing, were not corrected for suspension and could be ordered with mounts for regular brakes or as an SE model could have mounts for roller cam brakes (seat stay or chainstay). The fork was a Potts Type 2 and would match the brake choice on the frame. These earliest Phoenix SEs are now the most sought out by collectors. Later on as suspension started catching on you could get a regular or SE version of the frame with geometry corrected for a suspension fork. Over time the headtube was increased to 1 1/8", rear spacing boosted to 140mm and suspension corrected frames became the norm. This particular bike is a 1994 SE model (serial 94305) and was originally built around a suspension fork and therefore has the corrected geometry.

However this is no ordinary Phoenix. It was previously a part of the MOMBAT collection (see archived link here) and Jeff obtained it from a former WTB employee. The story goes that this was a prototype or development frame made from lighter tubing (perhaps True Temper) and featured some unique design features and component selections. While there really is no way to prove this story one way or another, here are a few things to consider. While WTB started with Ritchey tubing in 1991, according to their literature by 1995 they had moved to True Temper. So, the idea that sometime prior to 1994 they would begin experimenting with True Temper tubing seems to make sense. I also recall reading that Charlie's own Phoenix was made with True Temper, so perhaps this was something they were messing around with and made available internally. Second, aside from Charlie's own Phoenix and my Titanium prototype I've not seen another one with a Cunningham/Potts style pressed in bottom bracket. As far as I can tell all of the Phoenix frame had a threaded BB shell and I've not been able to find any documentation that would indicate it was an option.

The rest of the frame is pretty standard and from a few feet away you couldn't tell the difference between another one. Then there is the matter of the components. The most striking and unique bit is the front Saber Cam version of the SpeedMaster brake. WTB wanted to adapt the roller cam brake to work with suspension and they experimented with a couple designs including the Lever Link (which you can see on my Ti Phoenix here) and the Saber Cam. I'll get into this brake more later, but suffice it to say it was a flawed design and was never offered for sale to the public. The rest of the components are more or less standard WTB fare, except some have unique colors which weren't standard or common. The grips are clear which was an an option you could get, but very rare. The front hub is an odd off-white anodize which wasn't common, silver and black were. The rear brake and hub are a version of gunmetal but are much more blueish in hue than other gunmetal parts I've seen. This could easily have been a trial batch or perhaps just a weird artifact of aging. The rear brake also has extra holes for pulley and post mounting, further evidence of experimentation which is on the one hand was not uncommon in general in those days, but also something you'd expect to see on a factory/employee test bike. I think that about covers it. For this build I tried to preserve the original part selection with the exception of the Judy fork which I swapped in favor of a suspension corrected Type 2 fork and new WTB grips as the old clear ones were rather worn. I kept the Saber Cam brake for photos but after a few spins around the block decided that it will go in favor of a Toggle Cam. On to the photos!!

The WTB Edge

As was the custom in those early days (and remains now) many bike manufacturers were vertically integrated and provided their own brand of components to outfit their bikes. While the same is true here, WTB started the other way around making components first and then created a bike on which to hang all those bespoke components on. In fact the only non WTB made or designed components on this bike are the Shimano XTR drivetrain and Salsa QRs. Literally everything else on this bike has either a WTB stamp or was designed by one of its founders.

The fork is a Potts Type 2 which was made specifically recently by Steve for this project. Following some good advice I asked Steve to use some NOS Shimano Dura Ace dropouts instead of the modern PMW units he uses for his current builds. This made the fork look and feel much more like the proper vintage one and doesn't stand out as a newly made fork might on an older bike.

I decided to repaint the bike as the old paint job had some significant corrosion and spidering underneath as well as some serious wear. For this purpose I decided to send the bike back to Rick at D&D who originally painted the bike and he was able to replicate the same exact color. So, while it's not the original paint, it's the same paint done by the same guy. For the fork I decided to add some flair and go two tone. Unlike a Potts LE of the time the Phoenix was seen as more of a workhorse bike and so the typical paint jobs were a single color, but I felt that a little flair here was ok. The fork has a longer A2C to account for the corrected fork geometry and Steve was able to get that done really well and extend the crown down a bit to ensure that the brake bosses sat safely on the reinforced part of the fork.

While I was originally going to start the bike with a dirt drop setup I was running into some issues adapting the M900 XTR STIs to the DKG designed Shiftease adapter plates and decided to punt on that setup for now in favor of the more classic WTB PowerBand stem and Titanium flat bar. I have a custom made and painted to match Potts LD stem with a WTB/Specialized RM2 bar and will eventually set that up to see how it performs off road.

This stem design is one of the more unique designs of the time and gets a lot of looks / comments. This particular stem is a steel version, but WTB did make a small number of Titanium stems. I would pay dearly for one of those!! I actually had to have replica bar clamps made for this stem as I got it with the original clamps missing.

Rounding out the front end is a WTB / Chris King Grease Guard headset in very shiny silver. The bike originally came with a black WTB/CK which had a threadless top cap adapted to fit the old style cups. Given I wanted to use the PowerBeam stem I opted to have a threaded fork made and happened to have a nice silver WTB/CK stashed away which I think looks better than black on this frame.

The Phoenix was designed with massively sloping top tube and consequently required an extra long seatpost. In order to do that WTB had use a large diameter post which was not readily available back then. Their answer was to fabricate a whopping 31.8mm post by using the head off of a Suntour post pressed in and pinned into a custom shaft that is approximately 500mm long. A WTB Fixed Angle Seat Post would be cooler, but is impossible to find for all intents and purposes.

The post is further adorned by the WTB / Specialized Team saddle with Titanium rails. WTB and Specialized had a close product development relationship and this collaboration extended to virtually all aspects of the Specialized catalog including this seat. WTB would eventually go on to manufacture their own line of seats including the wonderful SST, but for this project I decided to go with the co-branded Specialized model.

Moving on with the list of WTB components are the SpeedMaster brakes, with a Toggle Cam in the rear and the aforementioned Saber Cam up front. As I mentioned earlier I opted to stick with the original mismatched colors for the hubs and rear brake. On the off chance this irks me in the long run I built up a spare set of silver WTB Momentum hubs and have a spare WTB TC in silver to swap in for the rear. But, for now this setup is working for me and preserves the quirky nature of the bike.

The Toggle Cam is easily one of if not my absolute favorite rim brake. It feels more positive than the Roller Cam, isn't as prone to dirt and grit mucking up the rollers and offers easy adjustability for pad wear without having to mess with the cable. Getting the cable routing on the Phoenix just right takes a bit of work, in fact after I took these photos I fiddled with it some more and ended up moving the cable to the top of the cam plate and dialed in the brake lever micro adjustment screws to take up some of the slack on the rear brake cable. The lever feel and pad engagement feels spot on and I can't wait to try it on the trails!

The Saber Cam is another story though. While it's neat to have every type of SpeedMaster brake in my lineup I don't see this thing really working out. The flaw with this design is that the cable pull on the brake arm and the action of the cam are opposing each other. So, as you apply the brake it actually pulls the arm away from the rim until the cam engages and pushes it back. This hardly seems efficient and while the brakes do work, I don't really feel like messing with the system in practice. The actual Saber Cam on this bike looks like it was some sort of prototype, either that or heavily modified from its original form. The arms also look unfinished or something as they lack the smoothness of production units. The brake feel is fine and if you didn't look closely at the way it operates you might assume it's all well and good, but unfortunately I feel like this particular concept is best placed in the cabinet of curiosities or used as a conversation starter.

Rounding out the complement of WTB components are the New Paradigm hubs laced to Power Beam rims and clad with Specialized Ground Control Extreme tires in a whopping 2.5". The Phoenix along with the some of the later Cunninghams were all designed to fit these new large volume tires. For whatever reason removing these on my Cunningham is fairly trivial whereas here it's quite a chore. This Phoenix has standard 135mm rear spacing, but by 1995 WTB adapted the Charlie Cunningham 140mm spacing standard. It would have been neat if this frame had the wider rear spacing, but I'll have to make do with 135.

Gunmetal WTB components are some of the rarest out there and while gunmetal brakes and classic hubs can be found, I've yet to see another gunmetal New Paradigm rear hub.

Like I said the Shimano M900 drivetrain are the only non WTB related components. I originally wanted to do a Suntour XC-Pro build but given the New Paradigm cassette hub and my desire to have a dirt drop option getting the Suntour kit to work well would have been a challenge and I'm a total sucker for M900 XTR. It's tried and true and as far as vintage MTB components go it's the best stuff out there. Suntour would have been a bit more in keeping with a WTB inspired theme as the two companies collaborated a lot, but I just couldn't see an a way to have a very usable bike. Maybe if I ever find a way to modify a New Paradigm rear hub, or switch to classic with a Suntour freewheel I'll consider converting, but I doubt it.

All in all I think this bike came out really really great. There may be a few tweaks and some fiddling left to do to get it dialed in, and there is still the whole matter of the dirt drop cockpit but at this point all I need is a break in the weather and some time to hit the trails. I'm really looking forward to doing a ride review and am trying to keep my expectations in check, which is hard given all the hype about this bike and my experience with its kin. Stay tuned for an in depth ride review in the coming months!

I love Bradbury Manitous, what can I say? I never really get tired of working on them and am always thrilled to find another one. However with only 318 ever made, and definitely fewer remaining it's not that often you come across one. This particular bike lived the past twenty or so years in Montana where it was awaiting restoration. The current owner bought the bike in the 90s from the original owner and rode it for some time and then it got set aside. Fast forward a few years and the elastomers in the early Manitou fork gave up the ghost, the drivetrain started faulting and the new owner decided to restore the bike. But as these things often go the project got hung up on the details and the bike got put away as a skeleton of its former self. After several years of false starts the owner decided it was time to let it go and somehow found me and offered me the bike. While at first it looked like a basket case with the fork disassembled, wheels bare without tires and the drivetrains mostly in pieces a little careful cleaning and organizing revealed a really well taken care of and preserved example of what is Doug's more evolved design. This 1990 version of the DBM is probably the most common as Doug really hit his stride in terms of number of frames built that year. While I've worked on nearly identical bikes before (links here, here and here) each one is still unique and interesting. What sets this particular bike apart from the others is the gray paintjob. I've discussed this before, but as a quick refresher Doug mostly left his frames as bare Aluminum and only had a couple small batches painted. The most widely known are the baby blue ones, but with the finding of this bike and a few others I've seen it's now apparent that gray, black, silver and clear coated were also made in small numbers. This is hardly significant, but it's a neat little fact and I enjoy piecing these things together along with the build log.

I just realized this, but this bike looks a lot like an early Yeti ARC to me. It's gotta be the color that makes it look that way. Check out the Johnny O'Mara ARC I restored a few years ago and imagine it without the 3DV components and the two bikes are not far off.

Tidy drivertain featuring polished Cook Bros RSR cranks and Shimano Deore XT 7-spd derailleurs, the front with a custom made 35mm band clamp.

While I really like the painted Manitous, the welds are a little bit smoothed out or filled in by the paint and it takes a little bit away from the look and feel of these bikes.

The other thing that struck me about this bike was the choice for the original owner to outfit the bike with IRD Switchback brakes. Doug was a fan of IRD components and his early bikes used IRD posts and u-brakes, but I had never seen one with this style of brakes. While I don't like them in practice they look great and are cool to see on a Manitou.

The first generation Manitou fork on this bike was just about the cleanest I have ever seen. A fresh set of elastomers and wiper seals brought it back to life and ready for trail time. I really like these early forks. On the one hand the crown and upper portion of the fork looks so beefy and then you have these spindly dropouts. Boost spacing (115) was the norm on these forks and to achieve it Doug had to build or in this case modify existing hubs to accommodate the unusual for the time spacing.

I was just thinking about this the other day, the Manitou stem might be the first of the mountain bike stems machined from Aluminum billet on the market. Doug started making these in late 87, and the Ringle trail stem which I used to think was the first didn't come out until 1989. I think Charlie Cunningham an WTB made some Magnesium and Aluminum stems early on, but I don't think it was more than a handful. I can't think of another machined Aluminum stem made that early. Hmmm... gonna have to research that some.

Matching black pulleys are a nice touch. Curious why only the rear brakes are like that.

I am really starting to like this gray.

It's a bit tough to see, but for some reason the head badge is on upside down. I have to assume it was an accident, but either way it's pretty funny. Also, who puts a Merlin Titanium bar on a Manitou?

All in all this bike was a very pleasant surprise and a rewarding restoration. Unlike so many I've had recently it was relatively trouble free, everything was there and mostly in good shape. The build had some unusual components that somehow all work together and the end result is very appealing IMO. Luckily these bikes have enough small differences that even though I've built close to 20 at this point they are still fun and enjoyable to work on, here's hoping for another 20!

We've all had those projects that take a long time to finally track down or proverbially 'land', or ones that sit there languishing for ages while you find that missing piece or maybe there is a major repair that takes a while to complete to your degree of satisfaction. Well, for me this Mantis was all those rolled into one hot mess. I was looking back at the date on the original photos I had of this bike and was shocked to see they were from March of 2013. Then I remember that getting the bike took a while and a quick search of my emails revealed that Richard Cunningham first emailed me about the bike back in the summer of 2012. Had I known what I would be getting into with that bike when I first got it, and that I'd find two others in much better shape I may have passed on it. But now seeing it all done and looking amazing, I'm kinda glad I stuck with it. After all it adversity builds character or something...

The bike had an interesting history. As I mentioned it was RC who scored me the lead. The current owner said he purchased the bike from the original owner a long time ago, perhaps in the late 80s. At the time the bike had been painted in a wild neon multicolored tape peel style paint job, the remnants of which were still present on the fork steerer when I got it. He rode the bike for a while until it was apparently stolen as retribution for some sort of drug deal or something like that. Fast forward a few year and the guy was visiting some of his old, ummmm.... friends? in Mexico and saw the bike there and apparently stole it back. He then stripped the cool old paint and painted it Chevy engine blue to hide the brand and details. I don't know how much of that story to believe but it sounded interesting at the time. He held onto the bike for a few more years replacing worn parts and making some questionable upgrades, but at some point the bike went into storage and sat around for a few years. When he decided to sell it he reached out to RC looking for some guidance on value and RC sent him in my direction. After a few months of negotiation we agreed on a price and I took it home. At the time it was the first fillet brazed XCR to surface and so naturally I was quite happy, that is until I started digging into it a bit.

I'll spare you guys some of the technical details as I've discussed them before in the post for another XCR I restored a few years back, so feel free to check that post here. I have since found a good scan of the original XCR one page flyer and have included it in this post in case anyone wants a bit more info on the bike. I'll try to focus this post more on the actual restoration of the bike and some pics of the finished product.

Here are a few pics of how I originally found the bike. As you can see not only is the bike in rough shape with damage to the seat binder but also a majority of the parts are missing. Luckily the fork was there, though it was not without issues. More on that later.

I saw the damage to the QR binder right away but it was just the tip of the iceberg. Further inspection revealed small cracks in the seat tube and some buried damage in the seat cluster. In addition the rear brake cable routing was converted from full length housing to a more modern cable stop design.

I'm not sure why someone would try to cut off the QR, perhaps the original assembly that was housed inside the binder and was somewhat unique to this frame was missing and someone assumed they had to remove the binder and get a collar. In the end it seems that they opted to install a traditional QR instead. None of that mattered as the seatpost used was undersized and so the whole area was pretty rough and it was immediately obvious a new binder assembly would be needed.

Being that RC got me into this mess I reached out and asked if he'd come over and check it out and maybe help me with some repairs. A short while later he paid a visit and we chatted all things Mantis, which was pretty cool. Side note, among all the people responsible for the early days of mountain biking RC is a class act. Talking to him is never feels like one sided conversation where either I ask a lot of questions or he waxes on poetic about the impact he made to this and that. It always pleasant and informative without being overbearing or holier than thou. Anyways, moving on. RC agreed to repair the frame and I sent it to him a few months later. Well, as things go RC moved from LA to SD and didn't have easy access to his airplane shop and wasn't really able to make any progress on the frame, damn! Prior to sending the frame to RC I reached to Ken Beach (henceforth refereed to as KB) to make a new seat binder assembly. KB did a killer job on that even providing a Suntour QR cam fully assembled into the new binder, which was actually a left over original Mantis inventory.

In case you haven't heard of him, KB was the founder of Gecko cycles and got his start at Mantis and had a few spare parts from those early days. He put together a new binder bolt which I had provided to RC along with the frame. RC recommended I reach out to KB about the repair saying that he would probably do an even better job.

Ken didn't disappoint, the finished product speaks for itself though. Although I only snapped pics of the seat cluster repair, he also properly repaired a previously damaged rear brake post and reinstalled the proper cable guides for the rear brake. In addition I managed to talk him into making some replica stems, bars and another fork for some other projects I had in work. Naturally while looking over the original fork from this frame (frame and fork have matching serial numbers naturally) he found a crack and ended up needing to replace one of the blades.

The stems with triangular face plates were the original Mantis design and were later replaced by the more traditional clamp style with fillet brazing at the clamp. The early style stems called the S-1 were painted silver while the later stems were chromed. The bars are straight gauge 6061T6 Aluminum with 0.120 wall thickness and Ken made some perfect full length replicas in a couple of bend options.

The remaining parts were the custom seatpost, modified Campagnolo cranks and Campagnolo quick release adapted to work in the seat binder bolt. I managed to find an authentic mantis post (check pic in the final gallery below) so luckily I didn't need a replica post for this XCR. KB provided a Suntour lever which worked perfectly, but all the wheel QRs would be Campy and so like the original equipement I wanted a matching Campy QR for the seat post. Getting that done actually required sacrificing parts from three complete QR / binder bolt assemblies. The QR arm from a wheel QR, the larger diameter rod from a Suntour seat QR and the female end of a campagnolo seat binder bolt, plus a spring from a Shimano XT seat QR.

The cranks are normal Campy Record road cranks with a 130mm BCD which RC had originally modified to accept a 74mm BCD granny gear. I found a couple sets of cranks and had them polished and reanodized and then with some big help from Tashi over at the Vintage Mountain Bike Workshop had the drive side arm match drilled to accept a granny gear. Fun fact, the bolts used to mount the granny gear are the male half of a Sugino seat binder bolt. Campy made actual adapters like these but they were very expensive back then, and silly money now. So, both RC and I opted for the budget version.

After assembling these I realized that RC seemed to have actually used Campy track cranks and not doubles, so I shaved off the inner chainring stops and added a countersink for the chainring bolt to prevent anything from snagging the chain while shifting. In the one of these cranksets took probably 15 hours of work to complete, small price to pay for perfection. Each crank would be mounted with a Campy alloy bolt and covered with a Campy cap.

Once all of the parts were made and the frame repairs were complete all that remained to get the decals and get the frame, fork and stem painted. For this project I decided to go with the legendary Joe Bell and unlike all the other XCRs I've seen which were painted red we decided on a custom metallic baby blue. I think the end result speaks for itself...

The drivetrain on this bike is comprised of Suntour Mountech derailleurs, Phil Wood hubs with a 6-spd Shimano 600EX freewheel and Suntour power shifters. The front gear chainrings are 28/42 and the rear spread is 13/34, making for a fairly usable 2x drivetrain, that is if you're fit.

The raised fillets are a trademark of these early Mantis bikes, they are very distinct and unlike any mountain bike of the time.

The headset is a Specialized alloy which was one of the nicer mountain bike headsets on the market in those days and a great alternative to using road headsets.

Tell me that's not one of the sexiest fork dropouts you've ever seen.

Here's a good shot of the Mantis seat post. Because long seat posts were not common back in the early days of mountain biking many builders resorted to making their own. In this case RC made a custom Aluminum shaft and then cut off the head off of a Shimano DX BMX seatpost (which back then were cheap and plentiful) and pressed it into the shaft and then swaged the shaft down to secure the head in place. The seat is a Selle San Marco Anatomica and I managed to find on in Hungary, thanks eBay!

The seat cluster is easily my favorite part of this bike. Not only does it function really well with easy open/close action the final integration looks amazing, nearly organic.

Once again, I am simply floored at the work KB did on this bike. I've had a couple other early Mantis frames in the shop since this bike and you can't tell that this frame was repaired. It's really great to have access to all these great craftsmen who not only were there originally but are still involved in the industry and willing to lend their skills to keep these machines alive!

Brakes are refinished Shimano M700 Deerhead units which fully refinished right down to the toe adjusters! Tires are IRC X1 in 1.75 width, which match the sport demeanor of a race bike.

From what I heard from ex Mantis racers and riders these bi-plane forks were not the strongest, but they sure look amazing.

One last little tid bit and one of the more challenging parts to find for this bike were the Durex Ambrosio rims. These were some of the earliest purpose built lightweight mountain bike rims and were specified on only a few high end bikes. While light and fairly durable the rim walls were not rolled and so tire beads would easily pop out of the rims, or so I've been told.

I really can't believe that this bike is finally done. Looking at it sitting here I can't help but feel a strong sense of both relief that it actually came together but also accomplishment that I managed to get it together despite all the frame issues and the seemingly never ending hunts for the rare and obscure parts needed to complete the build. With any luck I'm hoping to get this bike a spot at the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame in Fairfax, which I think would be a fitting end for a rare and beautiful machine like this one.

I've gone on a bit of a Manitou bender in recent months finishing four of these amazing bikes. It still just boggles my mind how long I searched and waited to get my first Manitou only to now have four sitting here all built up. It's really funny how things work out.

The particular frame in this post (first on the left) came from Doug Bradbury and was one of the frames sitting around his garage after he moved to Crested Butte. The frame is what I'd call and early-mid version of Doug's evolution featuring horizontal rear entry drop outs, box section chainstays, large gussets, externally butted down tube, pressed in bottom bracket and a necked down seat tube. Though Manitous famously lack serial numbers those design details combined with a few date verified entries in the build log book place this bike squarely in 1989. Below are a few photos of the frame as I got it from Doug, as you can see it was in pretty rough shape with a lot of oxidization all over the place. Another notable 'feature' of this frame is the sleeve on the seat tube. As Doug was experimenting with larger diameter tubing for his bikes he wanted ran into a lack of oversize seat posts. This mandated that the upper portion of the seat tube used small diameter tubing and there had to be a transition between the large and small tubing sections (as seen on another Manitou here). Initially the junction was down low on the seat tube and over time moved up until sometime in late 89, early 90 the entire length of the seat tube was 1 3/8 with only a small section above the seat tube necked down. This design proved to be problematic and of the three frames like this I've had all three were cracked at the junction. This particular frame must cracked a long time ago as Doug did the repair himself with a a large sleeve over the junction and the sleeve had about as much patina as the rest of the frame. This leads me to believe that the frame got a lot of use after the repair and so the quality of the repair is pretty good.

Heavy levels of oxidation and wear were all over the frame, but particularly bad on the BB junction. This early frame used box section tubing over the entire length of chainstay unlike the later bikes which used 1/4" plates at the BB junction. I've always liked this design for the amount of work it must have taken to build. The later design was simpler to manufacture and offered more tire clearance, but I feel this version is a bit cooler and more desirable.

The pressed in bottom bracket on this frame is also a short lived feature of early Manitous. As Doug started experimenting with wide hubs (think boost) he needed a longer bottom bracket shell and spindle to accommodate the chain line. Nobody made wide bottom brackets suitable for mountain bikes at that time so Doug did what many other builders did back then and used pressed in bearings and and a long (145mm) tandem bottom bracket spindle. Some of his early bikes even utilized grease guard style bearings, like the ones used on Cunningham and Potts bikes of the era.

The restoration of the frame involved mutliple levels of both mechanical and manual sanding and polishing over many many hours, but in the end I think the results speak for themselves.

I initially built this bike with a rigid fork, but kind of liked the look of the first generation Bradbury fork and happened to have a clean example with wide spacing which I think looks great on this frame. As I mentioned earlier when I got the frame from Doug is bare, without any parts. I was lucky enough to get a cache of old wheels and hubs from Doug but only a few complete stems which I have long since used up. Given I had a few more frames to complete I decided to make some replica stems and that's what you can see on this bike. The stem is virtually identical to the originals made by Doug and I kept the cable guide allowing me to use either a rigid or suspension fork.

While the fork was in great cosmetic condition the elastomers had long since given up the ghost. I rebuild them using new elastomers from suspensionforkparts.net which work nicely and are the only way to revive these iconic forks. I really like these forks, they don't do much for big bumps and they don't offer a lot of rebound but they just make things fun. In my opinion they look cool, much better than an RS-1 and they are very reliable. So, while it's undeniable that an RS-1 was a more complicated and probably high performance fork, I for one have never been impressed with one and they were rather unreliable often times blowing seals on long rides leaving you with a sloppy sack of oil for a front fork. That being said, I kind of feel like I should at some point do another RS-1 build, too bad I sold all my forks.

The front hub on this bike measures 115mm and was custom made by Doug. There were several variants of these hubs over the years. Early on Doug modified hi-e hubs with wider center bodies and longer spindles. Later on he started making his own hubs modeled after Bullseyes, again with wider centers and longer spindles. This enabled him to build stronger wheels to the point that a 28h front wheel was effectively as strong as a 32h or even 36h version.

Having just recently completed the gray 1990 DBM with front and rear IRD Switchback brakes I feel like I could throw and IRD brake on the front here, but I'm not sure it would be right on an 89, I think those came out a bit later. Still, the XT brakes while very functional lack a little bit of wow factor leaving some opportunity for future upgrades. I only had some Grafton brakes around and given the U-Brake on the rear I'd have to break up a pair of them and I just didn't want to do that.

The drivetrain is very basic 18 speed Shimano M730 XT, with Dia Compe brake levers which Doug seemed to like given how many pairs he had lying around and on bikes. The only thing I've been considering changing are the cranks as or maybe just swapping the chainrings for black ones, bike needs a bit more contrast, too much silver.

I was just thinking that in reality I don't actually know if the frame is cracked under this sleeve, for all I know Doug did it as a preventative measure. Probably not, but still a fun thought exercise. Time to hunt for a boroscope.

The rear IRD progressive brake features a custom made stiffener brace made by Doug for his bikes.

Rear hub is also a custom made boosted take on a classic Bullseye design. Measuring at 145mm the rear wheel was effectively dishless, again making for a stronger and stiffer platform. One of the traits DBMs have on the trail is what I affectionately dub their crudbuster capability. Much like a nice pair of fat skis busting through some crud a Manitou is rarely perturbed by trail conditions. A lot of this sort of thing comes down to rider skills, but normalizing around my riding style I've come away appreciating the Manitou's prowess and removing rather than adding risk attributed to technical trail riding from the equation. It probably boils down to knowing that if I point the bike there through that patch of rocks I'll come out the other side pointing the same direction rather than getting knocked off course or having to manage the traverse however brief it may be. Just my $0.02...

Th photo above and below show my favorite bit on this bike. I can still vividly remember the layers of oxidation I had to remove and the polishing approach that cleaned the tubes while trying to preserve the details of the welds... This was quite a challenge but it feels great to have the frame look this good in the end.

This little cable run is just fun, I don't know I love these little not well thought out add ons on these bikes. The cable routing on the early Manitous is all over the place, however by mid 1990 Doug had moved pretty much everything to the top tube and thee housing runs were cleaner and more direct.

I'm sure I sound like a broken record at this point, but these bikes just look the part of a race bike. In the end that's kind of what I love most about this era of mountain bikes. If it looks fast standing still it's likely to be fun off road and nothing rings truer here. This bike, with its giant repair and all is still so freaking amazing. Take one part rugged trials bike, tack on some forward thinking technology and wrap it in a handmade package and you have what in my mind represents the reason why I am so passionate about vintage mountain bikes. No fancy paintjobs, no crazy loud anodized parts just subtle performance for people who want to ride and explore. Period, end of story.

I've been a big of Merlins for a while now and have settled around late 80s, early 90s evolution as the ideal mix of refined construction, classic style and off road handling characteristics. That being said, the earlier earlier bikes are somewhat more unique and interesting. There are fewer of these early bikes around and so getting a hold of one is a bit more challenging, relatively speaking. I've wanted to build one of these for a while, but wasn't really willing to pony up for one given I don't think it would be different enough or better than my 89 Merlin. As luck would it have it a friend of mine wanted to do a Merlin build around this frame using another Merlin as a parts donor bike and asked me to do the restoration, works for me!

At first glance it's pretty hard to tell the different evolutions of these bikes apart. A closer look reveals a few details. Probably the most obvious thing is the weld quality. Merlins are historically known for their flawless welds, which is definitely true for the later bikes. Well, those welders had to learn and it seems obvious that the learning came over the course of building many hundreds of bikes, like this one. This is frame #190, placing it somewhere in 87/88 and representing something like the 3rd iteration of the design. The welds here are chunky and rough compared to my bike (#1849) but much nicer than some of the earlier one like #50 and #80, so clear signs of improvement.

Unlike some of the previous iterations this frame no longer uses swaged head tubes and bottom brackets shells, it seems that Merlin was able to get larger diameter tubing suitable for those applications. A few other minor details include one piece cable guides routing all cables on the down tube and a seat stay mounted roller cam brake. Apart from that you have to really be anal retentive to notice little details like the slightly abrupt end of the seat tube and stick on one piece decals rather than transfer style decals used on later frames.

The build is a nice a mix of Wilderness Trail bikes and Shimano XT with a Steve Potts LD stem supporting WTB/Specialized RM-2 dirt drop bars. The fork is a bit of a mystery. It looks like someone just sort of made it. The dropouts are welded into the open ends of the blades without any sort of caps or ends, the welds are rough and the general finish looks rattle can.

The WTB fixed angle seat post is one of the more unique features of this bike and remains the elusive missing piece for my personal Merlin. Sadly these are hard to find in general, and most of the ones I've seen have been rather short.

Man I want that post, only in black!

I have yet to build a personal dirt drop mountain bike and this Merlin is certainly a tease, it's a shame it's a bit too small for me as I'd love to give it a try on the trails.

Clean and simple XT, in my humble opinion there is nothing better on a Merlin.

I've discussed this before in other Merlin writeups, but here it is again. The 30mm Merlin BB shell is the Achilles heel of this frame design. Not only does it make for a flexy junction, but it relies on relatively small bearings which wear quickly. They addressed this later on by integrating WTB's grease guard system, but it was still suboptimal in my opinion.

It should come as no surprise that a dirt drop Merlin would come from PCC. The original bike didn't have all of the WTB equipment aside from the rear brake, but it provided a great foundation for the final build.

I mentioned the seat tube finish earlier. What I'm primarily referring to is the sharp cut on the top and the slightly longer length above the top tube. Later bikes had a bevel on the outside of the end and the stub above the top tube was shorter. The seat binder was also a bit more refined knocking down some of the sharp edges seen on this frame.

Nothing better than a Potts made LD stem if you want to run dirt drops. When it comes to vintage bikes involving these sort of builds it's really tough to cut corners. In this case all the parts sort of fell together and everything more or less worked right off the bat. The only thing I left alone was the 8-spd rear shifter. The previous owner had upgraded the bike over the years including a modern 8-spd drivetrain including the barcons. Rather than swapping them out, I chose to put them into friction mode and all is well.

All in all this bike holds a certain allure for me. Quantitatively I know it won't be better than my Merlin, it won't be lighter or faster or any of those things and yet it's more unique and quirky which keeps me thinking it would be cool to have one. This is the slippery slope many collectors face and eventually have to reconcile. Sure, with enough money and space you can have one of each iteration or color or whatever, but personally I struggle justifying allocating my limited relatively limited resources to pursue collecting subtle variations of each make and model. I suppose my goal is to identify the bikes I like and and then find the best possible version of each one and then hang onto that bike! All the better if along the way I get to check out the competition on someone else's dime!!

Richard Cunningham started building bikes in 1981 and officially launched Mantis in 1982 offering two models of bikes; the TIG welded Overland and the fillet brazed Sherpa. Both bikes shared 4130 oversize chromoly tubing and geometry only different in construction techniques. Both bikes were designed with a slight bend towards comfortable touring but accommodating of the idea that sometimes things get hairy. That being said it wasn't until 1983 that Mantis released the XCR which was meant to provide a platform for all out racing while the Sherpa and Overland became the defacto touring bikes. Like the fillet brazed XCR the Overland was only available for the first couple of years with both bikes getting replaced by the composite XCR starting in 1984, but the Sherpa remained in limited production for another couple years. It's hard to know for sure, but my limited serial number log indicates that approximately 20-30 Sherpas may have been made in it's four to five year production run.

I've spent a lot of time recently working on cough-cough, modern bikes and looking at these relatively slack angles and that crazy long rear end feels odd, but for the time this was relatively sporty geometry. The Sherpa and XCR were very similar in both their design and construction, with the Sherpa employing longer (18" vs 17.5") chainstays made out of standard 4130 chrome moly tubing vs smaller Columbus stays on the XCR. Both bikes had approximate 72 degree head and seat tube angles and similar builds including a Mantis stem, bar and seat post. Aside from the name decal you'd be hard pressed to identify the two at a distance. One nice thing about the Sherpas over the XCR is that they came standard in a variety of elegant metallic colors to the base Imron red on the XCR, a color I never really liked.

If you've not seen it before the Mantis three bolt stem can be a bit confusing. It features TIG welded construction on the quill and stem with a removable Aluminum face plate to enable easy bar swaps and provide a cable stop for internal cable routing. A very slick design that's truly one of a kind.

The fork here is the same exact unit used on the XCR and it's as elegant as ever. The bi-plane style of forks are some of the more distinguished hallmarks of early MTBs. Many of the first MTB manufacturers used this design, but few made them as nicely as Richard.

While aesthetically pleasing these forks were not known to last, at least not on the XCRs. One interesting fact about the early Mantis bikes is that the forks and frames wore matching serial numbers, so you would likely know if the fork wasn't original. In this case the numbers match so we can rest assured this fork is original. Odds are anyways that if a fork was replaced it would be done so with a new unicrown model which was the design Mantis moved to on most bikes starting in 1984.

The raised and filed fillet on either end of the top tube is a signature Mantis feature and was only available on the Sherpa and the 1983 XCR. Richard did make a few custom one off bikes and a couple of them were also adorned with these beautifully sculpted transitions.

top tube fillet side

Unlike most modern bikes, unless they are something that came out of NAHBS most modern bikes are all function and offer little in the way of flourishes or what I'd call personal touches. You pick a bike based on technical specs and maybe some degree of brand loyalty, or maybe just go with what's on sale because they are all so damn similar anyways. On these older bikes, and especially something like this Sherpa there is so much to notice, so much to appreciate. So even though I just finished the XCR (which I wrote up here a few weeks ago), I am still quite thrilled to have a chance to work on this bike and take in all of it's finer details.

seat cluster rear

I like how Richard integrated rack mounts into the seat stays, looks much cleaner than externally brazed on bosses.

One of the main differences I've noticed between this Sherpa and all of the XCRs I've worked on is this above the bottom bracket, Henry James style derailleur cable routing. This was the way the 82 bikes were shown in the Mantis brochure, which is why I initially thought this bike was an 82, however I recently got a hold of the first cut of the 83 catalog which also had this same exact style routing. The later 83 brochures showed the revised style of routing and so I imagine at some point that year Richard switched over. I've seen one other Sherpas with cable stops at the top of the down tube and one just above on the seat tube with a piece of housing connecting them which served as the routing for the front derailleur, with the rear still using the welded on guide. The XCRs had a custom made guide underneath the BB shell.

As I mentioned earlier on the major differences between the Sherpas and XCRs was the heavier duty and longer rear triangle on the Sherpa. The bullet ends on the stays are much more pronounced here and really give the bike a beefier though hardly brutish feel.

Once again the details in the metalwork on these bikes are simply stunning. This is one of those times I wish I had the space and funds to keep each and every single bike I come across, sadly this is not the case.

This has become one of my favorite shots to take, I especially love it on Manitous with their dishless rear wheels.

Stem top

Suntour Mountech derailleurs with Shimano Tourney Takagi XT cranks.

The Suntour Mountech rear derailleur is an interesting design with a custom integrated top pulley which sits above the cage pivot mechanism. About all I can regarding this unit is that it does function. Suntour evolved this design eventually including a three pulley system which was poorly received and ultimately the more modern design was introduced with the XC series of Suntour MTB components.

I only rode my 83 XCR a couple of times and as best as I recall I didn't really care for the very upright feel of the bike and definitely didn't feel very confident with the drivetrain and brakes. By most people's standards my most modern bike is quite ancient, however I feel that for most people a good mountain bike from the early to mid 90s is likely to be less of a limiting factor than say fitness or overall skills. However, these early 80s bikes really require you to slow down and ride entirely differently that you would on bikes from the 90s or even late 80s. You have to get your head out of the saddle and plan your shifts and braking points well in advance. Handling is good enough for most trails, but bikes were larger and so you're higher up than you might on a new bike and a big bike is sometimes tough to get around in tight quarter. With all that in mind I quickly realized that this wasn't a bike I would try to ride hard and eventually sold it. I have a feeling the same would be true for this Sherpa. However, I really wish the weather would improve so that I could take the opportunity to take a second try and see how this bike would fare on the most gentle east coast trails where I now live.

I've had this idea to write a traditional bike shootout ever since I started this blog, I just never thought I'd lead with three bikes I never even heard of when I got into vintage MTBs. I always figured I'd compare a Klein, Yeti or Fat Chance, but seat time, experience and a bit of fortune has led me in a slightly different direction.

I've written at length about each of these three bikes before, you can check out the photo galleries and ride reports for each of these if you go back a few posts on my blog, but I recently got the idea that comparing them to each other would make for a good time and a fun read.

I suppose the big question is why compare three seemingly similar bikes rather than a more diverse representation? Over the past several years I've had the chance to ride a good number of what many would consider great riding vintage mountain bikes. That list includes heavy hitters like a Fat Chance Yo Eddy, Yeti FRO/ARC, Klein Adroit, Bradbury Manitou, Grove Innovations Hard Core and Mantis Valkyrie to name a few. All of these and several others have spent a fair amount of time in my regular rotation until these bikes arrived. I still love the Hard Core and Valkyrie but I tend to reach for one of these three more often. Maybe one day I will do a broader comparison or shootout featuring those or other bikes. While it may be news to some, I and many others consider the Cunningham as one of the best rigid bikes ever made and arguably THE best vintage mountain bike. The Phoenix was meant to be derivative of that design that were available to the public, so it stands to reason that they should also be amazing bikes. So, at the moment the thing I want to investigate is whether WTB improved on the Cunningham design in someway and was there any further improvement in going from steel to Titanium? Each of these bikes has a unique character and disposition on the trail and my experience with them thus far leads me to believe that comparing and contrasting them by riding them on the same trails and capturing not only the objective differences such as segment time or speed etc, but also getting into the more subtle and subjective aspects of how each bike dealt with the terrain should yield a clear winner. Not saying it's going to be easy, but I do think it'll be fun.

Over the next couple weeks I plan to ride each bike twice on a loop I'm very familiar with and one that has a lot of diverse terrain including, punchy climbs, tight and fast single track, couple technical sections and a few longer climbs to boot. I'll log times for each bike and take some notes on how they managed each part of the trail and then report on the results in as concise of a way as I can.

Obviously I'll need to find a way to normalize for the Judy fork on the Ti Phoenix, but other than that the bikes are equipped similarly enough that the comparison should be fair across the board.

1992 Cunningham Racer

Key Specs : Front and rear WTB TCs modified by CC, 118/140 hub spacing, CC made Type 2 fork, oversize FASP, Cunningham stem and 28" Ti bar, blend of Shimano M900 XTR and M735 XT with an 8-spd 12-32 cassette and 26/36/46 front rings on Specialized cranks, Onza Canis 2.25 tires.

Weight : 24.56 lbs

Quick summary : One of my all time favorite bikes, fits me like a glove and probably the one bike here I have the most hours on. The ride is stiff though comfortable for long hauls, handling is precise and predictable, not as toss-able as the others.

1997 WTB Phoenix Ti (original prototype)

Key Specs : Front WTB LL and rear WTB TCs, 100/140 hub spacing, RS judy fork with speed springs and Risse GEM cartridge, oversize WTB post, WTB stem and 27" Ti bar, blend of Shimano M900 XTR and Suntour XC-PRO with an XT 8-spd 11-28 cassette and 20/32/42 front rings on Suntour MD cranks, Onza Canis 2.25 tires

Weight : 25.73 lbs

Quick summary : My most modern bike, and consistently the one I log my fastest times with regardless of terrain. Extremely compliant frame with probably the most versatile drivetrain combo I've ever assembled.

1994 WTB Phoenix SE (lightweight prototype)

Key Specs : Front and rear WTB TCs, 100/135 hub spacing, Potts made Type 2 fork (suspension corrected), oversize WTB post, WTB stem and 27" Ti bar, Shimano M900 XTR drivetrain with an 8-spd 12-32 cassette and 26/36/46 front rings, Schwalbe Nobby Nic 2.25 tires

Weight : 24.89 lbs

Quick summary : The newest addition to my WTB lineup and my recent go to bike. Not as stiff as the Cunningham, whippy handling that makes for a very easy to throw around bike.

Much like Preston Tucker and the Studebaker brothers, the legacy of Bill Grove and Grove Innovations is at risk of being relegated to a footnote in the annals of mountain bike history. Grove never attained the popularity of brands like Fat Chance, Potts or Ritchey, and for the most part it remained a regional favorite like Ted Wojcik or Off Road Toad. Having grown up in central Pennsylvania, I have always had an affinity for Groves; because of that, I feel a responsibility to cultivate and maintain an appreciation of these bikes and the people who built them, lest they become lost to history and time.

Grove and company had been making bikes and components as a small operation since the early 1980s. By the late ’80s, they were looking to expand the business. Enter Randy Moore. Moore was the owner of the Bicycle Shop, one of the larger bike shops in central PA and Grove’s primary retailer. Around 1989 he acquired a large stake in Grove, taking an active role in running the company and working with the team on developing products. Moore was known as one of the early mountain bike pioneers in PA and was part of the Bomber crew, who… well, let’s just say they took a contact-sports approach to riding bikes in the woods. Wanting a beefier bike, Moore asked Grove to make him a version of the Assault using tandem tubing. Grove delivered this prototype: the Hard Core. According to Moore, the bike never fit him well, so it was passed around the Grove camp, ridden and raced by other folks as part of the Hard Core’s development. Here are a few pics of the bike as it looked when first built, to be honest I'd much rather have the crazy original paintjob, but the orange and black splatter is pretty cool.

As a fan of Groves, I’m particularly interested in seeing how the models evolved and capturing the changes between early prototypes and production bikes. One of my favorite bikes in my stable is the 1991 Hard Core, which by all measures is the production version. While the Hard Core and the Assault look similar at first glance, a closer look reveals some subtle differences. One of the hallmarks of the Hard Core was its 13.5-inch bottom-bracket height, a real boon when trying to clear the countless fallen logs and rock gardens common in central PA.

This is Hard Core #7, aside from the lack of the bash guard and slightly different shaping of the top tube it's essentially the same bike as the original prototype. You can see the original writeup on that bike here.

This is my 1991 Hard Core which in my opinion represents the best iteration of the model (see original writeup here). The high bottom bracket takes a while to get used to as it puts the rider higher up than most bikes, but once get comfortable it's really a fun bike to ride. By contrast, the prototype accomplished the same task with a massive bash guard. Moore, not the most proficient bunny-hopper, wanted a way to smash through obstacles without damaging his chainrings. As far as I can tell, only this Hard Core and a Grove trials bike received such a bash guard.

Another difference between this prototype Hard Core and the original Assault is a smaller seat tube and seat cluster on the Hard Core, which resulted in a flatter and more ovalized top tube at the seat-tube junction. I highlight this because the degree to which the 1.5-inch top tube and the staggering 2-inch down tube were shaped and then seamlessly welded is really a testament to the skills of the craftsmen who built these bikes.

Grove made some straight blade forks before the Hard Core was first created. They had beef dropouts made from what looked almost like solid angle bracket. The fork on this bike is arguably one of the first "production" hard core forks.

Aside from the massive dropouts the rest of the forks remained largely unchanged from the early prototypes to the more refined final version.

Although the early Hard Cores including this prototype used pieces of the Assault rear triangle the seat stays and brake bridge were beefier. So, the bike retained some of the compliance but had a solid braking platform with minimal frame flex.

I've never gotten a straight answer as to why Grove chose to run track dropouts on the Hard Core (and the X) but not on the Assault. I always thought that they felt out of place given the burly frame construction, but perhaps the large weldable surface area was just the ticket in making for a sturdy rear end. I've said it before but the gentle fillet brazed transitions found on all Groves were a nice a touch and were a good indicator of the quality of the whole bike.

Being this is an 80s bike it's gotta have a portage strap, just don't plan on carrying a large water bottle in the seat tube mounted cage if you plan on doing any carrying.

Apparently Randy set out to sell this bike in the late fall, shortly after Grove introduced the Warning Orange paintjob. The new owner (from whom I bought the bike last year) didn't like the crazy neon paintjob and wanted some fresh paint and given the fall season and the new orange color decided on an appropriate paint scheme to go with the time of the year. Hence the black/orange fade with black splatter. While a cool color on its own, I'd rather have the rad original colors still on the bike. C'est la vie...

This bike, and the Hard Core in general, helped pave the way for what would become the freeride concept. At the time it was made, it was radically different from the majority of steel bikes on the market. While not obvious at first glance, the Hard Core is a really fun bike to ride. Though heavy by comparison, you forget about that quickly as the responsive and surprisingly nimble nature puts a smile on your face.

I've never written a bike comparison before and for some stupid and diluted reason I thought that taking three similar bikes and comparing them by logging segment times and taking detailed notes would yield a clear winner... yeah right. While I have some interesting data and observations I feel that coming away from this undertaking, as much fun as it is and providing anything more than a subjective opinion will be challenging to say the least. That being said here's where things stand after three rides, one on each bike.

The course:
Living in the mountain bike mecca that is Baltimore, Maryland affords me countless miles of lush singletrack, massive climbs and the kind of techie descents that will throw even the most capable toddler. However, after many hours of riding my local trail systems I've manged to string together a nice ~12.5 mile loop with approximately 1300' of vertical climbing and a pretty good diversity of terrain. It's a loop I now know pretty well and feel that it provides a good setting to evaluate these older bikes. The majority of the course is flowy single track punctuated by a several fast and technical descents with some relatively serious exposure as well as a few punchy and technical climbs. Throw in a sprinkle of rock gardens, stream crossings and some loose climbs and you have a pretty baseline on which to measure most key characteristics of a vintage bike.

Current standings:
Going on nothing but overall course completion time after three runs the Ti Phoenix lies in first place with a time of 1:22:24, in second is the Cunningham with a time of 1:25:56 and pulling up the rear is the steel Phoenix with a time of 1:30:11. Fastest speed honors again go to the Ti Phoenix with a max speed of 30.9 mph (avg 8.5 mph), Cunningham in second with a top speed of 26.8 mph (avg 8.6 mph) and the Phoenix again in third with a top recorded speed of 20.8 mph (avg 8.3 mph).

Data:
Black base line : Ti Phoenix
Purple line : Cunningham
Blue line : Steel Phoenix

Ridge to waterbars : 2.3 miles 8% grade on climb in
Steep climb into the main section followed by a mix of rugged XC style climbs and descents, not much time to rest and lots of opportunities to push all of these bikes. There are several rocky sections going uphill and I only cleared them on the Ti Phoenix.

Chuck Norris climb : 0.9 miles 3% grade
Pretty mellow climb close to the start of the ride, mostly smooth single track that's ripe for attack both seated and standing.

Garrett's DH : 0.9 miles -5% grade
Probably the most fun part of the overall loop, fun and twisty downhill with a few chicanes flanked by fallen trees and featuring upturned rocks and boulders. Can get a bit hairy and definitely helped by some front squish.

Garrett's Pass 2.3 miles
This is XC in a nutshell, couple short climbs followed by flats perfect for an all out push and then leading to a wicked DH I separated out above.

As you can see I was actually ahead on the Cunningham during many of the climbing portions of the ride and it was the descents where the Ti Phoenix pulled away. Of course this is where the suspension fork clearly plays and I have to believe that the two bikes would be neck and neck if the Phoenix had a Type 2 fork. Honestly I don't know why the steel Phoenix isn't measuring up. I feel very confident on it, it's a bit more compliant than the Cunningham and the Schwalbe tires are actually a bit beefier than the Onzas on the other two bikes.

Conclusions thus far:
Hard to really come away from this with a single answer, at least so far. At first I really thought I would be the fastest on the steel Phoenix as I could tell that I was pushing the bike about as hard as I could and rode it the most leading up to starting this challenge. There is no denying that the steel Phoenix is a great bike. Like the others it's very stable, tracks predictably, is easy to handle, has quick handling and is comfortable on longer climbs and rides in general. It's a mix of stiffness between the Cunningham and Ti Phoenix and unlike the other two bikes it's the one where I can really feel the grip the best. The Cunningham is by far the stiffest, believe me or not but my hands and body definitely get tired faster and consequently I'm actively hunting for the smoothest line on all terrain which takes away from my down trail attention. It's probably the best bike for climbing out of the bunch, though that could just be the overall fit of the bike resulting in an optimal climbing position. I did observe that I did the least out of the saddle climbing in this bike and in most circumstances could just power through things. It is however the bike I felt the least comfortable descending on, again maybe due to the fact that it's a slightly taller or larger frame than the other two. But I don't feel like I have a good sense for the traction limits and leaning over hard in cornering has resulted in the front wheel washing out at speed on multiple occasions. The Ti Phoenix is probably best described as the most fun of the bunch. It's easily the most compliant bike, both because of the suspension fork, but also the rear end just feels a bit smoother and doesn't get perturbed easily, meaning I'm less worried about rear wheel placement, unlike the other bikes. Like the steel version it's just so damn predictable, probably even more so that the steel version. This is likely why I've been able to push the it harder than the other two on descents. The best thing about it, and this isn't fair to the other bikes, is the drivetrain and brakes. I absolutely love the way this bike performs, the shifting here is the best by far and the combination of Suntour MD front with an 11-28 Shimano rear end makes for very versatile gearing and really the middle ring is about all I ever use (I get into the granny on the other two). Also the brakes on this bike work better than the other two. The Lever Link up front is a veritable anchor and the Toggle Cam in the rear has the full lock point just dialed in perfectly. I feel like I have the best control of the bike when it matters. Oh yeah, the fork doesn't hurt. I've caught myself wondering on several occasions whether I should get a Type 2 fork made for it... would be neat I think, but not sure I'd chose to keep it long term.

So, three more rides on the same loop to get some more data and see if the trends continue or if things shake up. I also have a few things rattling around in my mind in terms of characteristics I want to focus on for the next rides to try and fill out the overall picture a little bit better. I'm going to give each bike a small tune-up to try and ensure a level playing field and take variables out of the equation. Stay tuned for a wrap up in a week or two.

I've been stalling writing this post for a few weeks now. Sure, I've been busy with other stuff, had other deadlines... but in reality I've been trying to find a way to avoid making any conclusions, because in the end these are all bikes I've come to really appreciate and I don't want to say I don't like a bike that pretty much everyone I know who has one raves about and most other people are trying to find one. But before I get to that, indulge me in a little walk down memory lane and a recap of the final standings on my little short course.

I wrapped up my planned set of rides back in early May and on each of the second rides I really tried to make mental notes on how I felt on the bikes so as to come away with more than just raw data. I quickly realized that numbers alone only paint a small sliver of the overall picture and that I'd need something else to backup the conclusion that was rapidly forming in the back of my mind. I rode the bikes in reverse order of how I started, so as to try and normalize improving fitness and trail familiarity to as much of a degree as possible, and so I ended up riding the Cunningham virtually back to back. I should point out that in the midst of doing this story I started working on another article where I was had my first exposure to modern bikes. My first couple back to back rides on the Marin and ultimately Pivot came around the mid point of this shootout, just as I got to the Cunningham. If you've not ridden a vintage, or even just an innertube equipped bike in a while you're probably not going to get this. But going from a bike with 2.2" tires running at 33-34 psi and then getting on one with 2.6" tires at 22-24 psi is quite revolutionary. However, going back in the other direction can be quite life threatening. Unfortunately I found this out the hard way when I washed out the front wheel on the Cunningham thinking I had a lot more traction than I actually did. That little wipeout kind of shook me and so the first ride out, while good on paper left me thinking the Cunningham wasn't all I remembered it to be. One other thing that I noticed with these three bikes is how easy it was to switch between any of them and the Pivot (which I ended up riding more). Unlike some other bikes in my fleet, like the Merlin and Kleins the WTB bikes never felt awkward or all that antiquated and the general riding position was quite similar to the Pivot. Something to be said about how advanced that geometry was back in its day.

As I said in the earlier parts of this series I've owned the Cunningham the longest (3 years for this one), followed by the Ti Phoenix (2 years) and only just got the steel Phoenix earlier this year. While you might think that this time unfairly skews the review in favor of the first two bikes, I don't think so. I still vividly remember my first ride on the Cunningham and how, well, perfectly suited for me it felt. It was just right from the get go and I never really felt like I had to get used to it,Unlike the previously too large for me Kirby Cunningham or the Potts CCR this bike did it all and did it deftly and without hesitation. The Ti Phoenix felt pretty much the same, but where the Cunningham brought with it a sense of gravity and consequence, the Phoenix was just sheer, unadulterated fun. The bike was just a riot to ride and I felt like I could just push it harder across all terrain. Chock it up to the fork I guess. Well, the steel Phoenix was just sort of in the middle of that. It's a great bike, make no mistake, and while it doesn't have any shortcomings compared to most other bikes in this company it didn't really make a standout impression. It lacks the Cunningham's refinement and isn't as much fun as the its Titanium brother. When I first got on it I loved it, and in a way I wish I hadn't decided to pit it against these other two bikes as in their company it's character is really tested, and in my opinion falls a bit short.

As a quick reminder, this particular steel Phoenix is allegedly a lightweight prototype made of True Temper tubing back in the days when WTB was using Ritchey tubing. I haven't been able to confirm this with any great degree of certainty but based on some background history and a few conversation I've had with the old time WTB crowd the story seems plausible. With that in mind the following conclusion may make more sense. The best way I can describe this bike is that unlike the other two when I push it to my ten tenths I get out of control quicker. It's too whippy, the rear wheel has a hard time holding traction under braking, it gets jostled easier in crud and in rocky terrain. In general it felt a bit harsher than the Cunningham which is a pretty stiff bike. I recall getting a tingling sense in my hands much quicker on the longer descents. As expected the bike was great on climbs and in general it's a solid performer, but just not exceptional, at least in this company. With that I place it squarely in third place.

Now things get difficult. These next two bikes are the ones in my small stable that are virtually always dirty. They're the two that get used the most and are without a doubt my favorite. As far as I'm concerned that's saying a lot. Though I don't have the collection I used to and it's far smaller than some people I know I've whittled it down based on bikes I like to ride. A few notable cuts include a Fat Chance Yo Eddy, Yeti FRO, Merlin XLM, Potts CCR and a Klein Adroit, that gives you a sense of the company these bikes keep. I place these two in the company of bikes like the Bradbury Manitou, Mantis Valkyrie and the Yeti ARC, which are some of my earlier bikes and among my all time favorites for some time now. Another notable mention is my 88 Merlin, but lately it has been feeling a bit antiquated and has not been getting a lot of use. Recently I've been riding my Grove Hard Core a lot and that bike is quickly creeping up in the top tier list, as it is perfectly suited to my local trails and a lot of fun. I tend to prefer bikes with more aggressive geometry and ones that feel quite stiff and planted. I am not a huge fan of thin tubed steel, relaxed geometry designs or bikes that favor lightness above all else. With all that in mind it should come as no surprise that the Cunningham and Phoenix line are up at the top of a very short list.

Let's start with the Cunningham. I feel that if I were fortunate to have Charlie build a bike for me back in 1992, this is essentially the bike I would have gotten. Maybe the stem would have been a touch shorter and a couple degrees steeper, but other than that it fits me perfectly. That there is a huge stroke of luck in an of itself. Beyond that though the bike can be best described as an extension of my body while out on the trail. It's effortless to maneuver around the most technical sections, it's predictable and stable at speed, it's planted on the steepest and loosest of climbs and the design has just enough compliance to make it comfortable on epic days. I've done five to six mile, three thousand foot climbs on it and descended thirteen miles of rocky single track on it and always enjoyed that. That being said, it's a fully rigid vintage bike, and as such is punishing. In comparison to other Aluminum bikes of the era it is a surprisingly more forgiving, but in the end I wouldn't exactly call it compliant. Lastly, it's the kind of bike that for better or worse, everytime you ride it feels like a special occasion. It's a masterpiece to behold and is more, much much more than the sum of its parts. This bike has loads of character and you just can't help but appreciate that. Now, none of that warm fuzzy stuff directly translates to speed or ability to smash through a gnarly section of east coast roots and rocks. This is where, in the world of vintage mountain bikes a bike like the Ti Phoenix distinguishes itself.

The Ti Phoenix takes all of the Cunningham's best traits and executes them in what I consider to be a superior form factor and augments it with some advanced kit in the form of better gearing and suspension. Right from the get go this was a bike that I just wanted more and more of. It never had the special "je ne sais quoi" that the Cuningham did and in general it felt more like a production bike but that didn't stop me from having the most fun on it I had on any of my bikes. While the Rock Shox Judy isn't a standout among suspension forks, the combination of a compliant frame and the fork made for a bike that was not only fun on all of the trails I would typically ride, but more importantly made trails I would avoid on my other bikes because they were too gnarly completely doable and down right a blast. Now, I'm sure some of you are saying if you want suspension get a modern bike, this is really a stupid comparison. I see that point and agree that I'm crossing over some significant boundaries here and am possibly squarely in apple and orange territory. I would say this though, aside from the Judy fork these bike are built with virtually the same period correct kit, and aside from the XC-PRO MD gearing and rapid fire shifters the two bikes have more or less the same. I've tried to imagine the Phoenix with a Type 2 fork on, and can't deny that swapping that in would wipe a bit of that smile off of my face, but I'm not sure all of it.

So, what does it all boil down to? Both are amazing examples of golden age mountain bikes and both still hold up today. If these were girlfriends the Cunningham would be the one that always has your back and you take home to meet the parents while the Phoenix would be the wild one one that you'd take on an all night bender to that crazy club you heard about. The bikes really do have different personalities, the Cunningham is rugged yet sophisticated and makes you want to explore while the Phoenix is aggressive and technical and encourages you to ride fast and push the envelope. I think in the end the Cunningham is the bike I will grow old with, but for now I believe, nay hope I still have a few wild nights left in me and so the Phoenix is the bike I chose to have fun with while I still can.

I've had a somewhat strained relationship with Fat Chance bikes over years. The first few Fats I restored all suffered some damage during shipping, mechanical faults while riding out to do photo shoots or the like. Fearing an imminent curse, I put my personal Fat projects on hold. A couple years later I did finally complete a nice 1990 Yo Eddy (see link here) which I rode for a while living back in California. Ultimately it wasn't a bike I reached for above other steel bikes in the quiver and it was relegated to loaner status, and ultimately I ended up selling it back in 2017. I still have a Wicked I use as a commuter and for that purpose it's really a great fit, however I don't think I would like it as much a dedicated mountain bike. Since then I haven't had the opportunity to work on any of the famous New England made whips. I did hold onto a Team Comp frame for a long time but finally decided to throw in the towel earlier this year when I realized it would be another couple of years until I would get around to it. I'm still hanging onto a couple suspension correct BOI forks in hopes of someday finding a late model (1999-2000) Yo frame or an early Fat Titanium to marry them to. I really liked the idea of the Team Comp and was a bit remorseful about selling it, and so when a good friend offered to loan me his bike for a while I jumped at the opportunity

For those of you unfamiliar with Fat Chance, you’d be hard pressed to throw a rock into the showroom at NAHBS without hitting a bike whose lineage can’t be traced back to Fat Chance. Chris Chance and his newly born-again Fat City Cycles brand are hailed by many as not only responsible for some of the best riding, and most desirable vintage mountain and road bikes, but have directly or indirectly inspired dozens of others to start out on their own, many of who still churn out some of the best bikes in the world. As kid I wasn't a huge fan of Fat, chalk it up to the fact that they were not very common in central PA or that they didn't have a huge presence in the then burgeoning racing scene. Either way I didn't have a chance to experience them in my formative years and so the bikes don't resonate as much with me today. That being said I've come to appreciate the craftsmanship and the point of view that Chris brought to the scene with his brand and how it served as a counterpoint to the then dominating NorCal way of doing things.

With models like the Wicked, Yo Eddy, Slim Chance or Fuckn Fat Chance, and a myriad of vibrant paint jobs featuring wild geometric patterns and multi color transitions, Fat Chance was not your average bike manufacturer. Though committed to quality and performance the brand was always out on the fringe of the fledgling sport of mountain biking and did their best to stave off the mainstream trends.

The Yo Eddy and Wicked are perhaps the best known Fats these days and collectors often times have multiples of each bike in various paint schemes, just because you know… why not? However, if you want one of the coolest and rarest Fats, look no further than the Team Comp. Made only for a short time in the mid to late 80s and in small quantities the TC stands out among an already pretty sweet lineup. Probably best described as a cross between a Wicked and Yo Eddy the TC was Fat Chance’s top of the line race bike prior to introducing the Yo Eddy. The frame borrowed the Wicked’s geometry (71/72 angles, 17 1/8” stays) but used Tange Prestige tubing on the main triangle and fork vs the True Temper 4130 chromoly on the Wicked. This particular frame has the optional roller cam mounts and GP Wilson forged dropouts on both the frame and the optional box crown fork.

I just love this derailleur. Seriously, if I could find one and some cranks I'd run them on my Wicked in a heartbeat... just about the damn coolest derailleur ever made!

I have yet to actually get this bike dirty, but I've heard it is a lively ride with a fair bit of compliance. I plan to pull of the NOS Ground Controls soon and get it out on some local trails soon, so check back for that ride review. The thing that I want to talk about right now is the drivetrain. There isn’t a rarer or more odd set of components than Mavic’s short lived Dakar off road group. Most know Mavic for their rims, wheels or hubs but very few people know that they made drivetrain components.

At best these parts had the same success in the mountain bike market as Renault did in the US automotive market, ok maybe not that bad. Their main claim to fame was getting spec’d onto Greg Lemond’s mountain bikes in the early 90s. I’ve always liked Mavic hubs and bottom brackets, they had some of the smoothest and reliable sealed bearings available back then. The headsets were nice as you could in theory tighten them on the trail with just an allen wrench, which was a nice feature. The main marketing angle for their components was the fully serviceable design. Mavic had always done this on their road bike components and I guess they had hoped that this would play well in the rugged and dirty world of mountain biking. Another interesting part was the virtually infinitely adjustable, under bar wishbone shifters. You could adjust the location and range of motion of the paddles to suit your specific needs. In practice this was actually quite difficult to setup and not so much a feature. Mavic never offered brakes or levers (cassette hubs and cassettes did come out later) so this bike has Shimano brake levers and WTB roller cam brakes. In the end these parts proved too heavy and couldn’t compete with Shimano and Suntour in terms of performance and usability. After maybe two years Mavic dropped the drivetrain and focused on rims and wheels, probably for the best.

Unlike similar options from Stronglight which used needle bearings Mavic used traditional ball bearings housed in plastic races. Though not as smooth as their hubs or bottom brackets the Mavic headsets were known to be reliable, and quite striking to behold.

Mavic cranks were made out of forged Aluminum and boasted one of the lowest Q factors on the market. Aside from the Lemond bikes there were notably featured (alung with Mavic hubs and BB) on the eclectic Bridgestone MB-Zip, the brainchild of Rivendell's Grant Petersen.

The Fat Chance box crown fork is one of the more classic designs from the 80s. Though not known for their strength and reliability they were touted as having a very pleasant ride and are sure easy on the eyes, especially when combined with a WTB roller cam!

The cockpit on this particular bike features a Salsa Moto stem and an early Fat Chance Titanium handlebar. Unlike today's bar which have smooth, crease free bends these early bars are quite rough in their execution.

The Mavic front derailleur came in one size only and used a series of shims to accommodate smaller seat tube diameters. God help you if you lose those shims...

Although this particular bike has a integrated bottom bracket Mavic did make their own unit which was equal in quality to the hubs. Most notably their design accommodated bikes with stripped out BB shells as it would slide in and was secured with threaded on external shells. This required that the edges of the BB shell get chamfered to ensure a proper fit, a small price to pay to keep a bike out of the scrap pile.

Bikes like this Team Comp may not have been ground breaking or innovative in any particular way but it perfectly summarizes what’s so great about this era. Builders and manufacturers pushing forward with materials, construction, geometry and components, in some cases resulting in a winning mix and other times in historical footnotes. I’d like to think this bike is more than a footnote, but rather an entertaining chapter.

Grove Innovations are mostly known for their shall we say more unconventional bike designs. In my experience most people tend to bring up notions of heavy, overbuilt or quirky bikes like the Hard Core or X-frame when discussing the brand. If you've read any of my previous posts you may have caught that the Hard Core is one of my favorite bikes, though I can't deny that it does take some getting used to and it's not the lightest bike by any stretch. Unlike a lot of vintage bike collectors, I'm not a big subscriber to the "Steel is Real" motto and tend to prefer Aluminum and Titanium bikes for my style of riding. That being said I've been trying some more of the ferrous made bikes recently, with mixed results. Building on my affinity for Grove and my desire to try a more conventional design I set my sights on finding an Assault. Although I could wax poetic (and have) about the craftsmanship, innovative design or the hometown angle as the main reasons why I love Groves, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the paint jobs. Groves had among the wildest and most outrageous paint jobs of the late 80s and early 90s. While I've had many Groves pass through my hands, for some reason the ones that were in my size were more subtle. So, as I set out to find an Assault I really wanted one of those wild ones. Unfortunately I couldn't seem to find one in my size and in a cool color, so I nabbed the first one in my size and decided to make it my own.

I found this Assault frame in Florida back in 2015 or so when a fellow mountain bike collector picked it up in trade and didn't really know what it was. He reached out to see if I could help identify it and we got to talking. The original color was long gone and although the fuselage was complete, it was painted rattle can green and devoid of any decals. We figured out it was an Assault but as it was too big for him and after some horsetrading I picked it up for a fair price. As usual personal projects end up taking a back burner and it wasn't until around 2018 that I finally decided to get this bike repainted and built up. I originally wanted a Neon Solar System Grove and so started working with Ollie from Dark Matter Finishing on recreating that paint job. Turns out the crackle effects have chained over the years making the task of faithfully duplicating the original nearly impossible. So, Ollie and I decided to change course and went for broke with neon fades and splatter. The result is nothing short of amazing and I think one of the coolest bikes I've ever had!

I saw this paint job on an early Hard Core and really fell in love with it. There is so much going on, but it all works, well at least in my opinion. This Assault features the full complement of Grove Innovation parts including an Assault unicrown fork, Hammerhead bar/stem combo and Hot Rod cranks featuring an externally greasable reactor core bottom bracket. As was the custom in those days this frame includes a pair of painted to match Specialized water bottle cages.

The split top tube cable routing is a unique feature on the Assault model and reminiscent of the very early Yetis.

If you've been following my builds for a while you've probably noticed that I am fairly formulaic and tend to swim a fairly narrow lane in terms of component selection. For the most part I'm partial to Shimano and then tend prefer the M730/735 7-spd XT or the M900 XTR groups. That being said, I've wanted to do a Suntour build for some time (last time I used suntour was on the 1991 Potts CCR) and was planning on doing so with my 1994 Phoenix, but complications with compatibility made that impractical. I've been sitting on this near NOS XC-Pro MicroDrive grouppo for a little while now and decided to use it on this bike. Aside from a short term setback in the form of non MD compatible Hot Rod cranks (new spider in production at the time of the first post) it all came together nicely and should make for a fun bike. I really like Suntour and the XC-Pro group is really amazing. I particularly like the ergonomics and the feel of the shifters. The brakes are nothing to write home about, but get the job done adequately well. This particular set is an early version and does not feature Self Energizing rear brakes. This group was Suntour's first to feature the Grease Guard system which Suntour licensed from WTB and really makes overhauls very simple. Given I'm using Grove cranks I wasn't able to use the Suntour BB and in the end decided to forego Suntour's headset in lieu of a stylish Chris King 2Nut. So, that leaves hubs and pedals as the only GG enabled components carried on. In keeping up with how most Grove's that left The Bicycle Shop in State College the rims, tires and toe clips are Specialized and grips are Oury. IRD seatpost and Selle Italia Turbo saddle round out the build.

Small touches like forward facing seat binder, sculpted seat tube nicely complement the svelte brake bridge and brake stop and make for a tidy seat cluster. As with nearly every Grove made the welds are just gorgeous and practically invisible.

As I built this bike I realized that there were several versions of Hot Rods and this appears to be one of the later styles with a grease port integrated into the axle on the drive size. Earlier version had a hollowed out axle with an insert that served as grease port, while the first generation simply had a hollow axle. The Reactor Core bottom bracket features double bearings on each side and unique triangular interface between the spindle and non drive side crank arm. These really are some of the coolest two piece cranks ever made and in my opinion far superior to the much more popular Bullseye cranks.

Matching water bottle cages FTW!! Now I just need some Grove branded water bottles.

I have a bit of tuning to do and am still waiting on a MD compatible spider for the Hot Rods before getting this thing dirty. A quick ride around the neighborhood confirms the bike is a good fit and seems to be pretty comfortable. A ride review will be coming shortly!

com·pos·ite

/kəmˈpäzət/

adjective

1.
made up of various parts or elements.
synonyms: compound, complex; More

The Mantis Composite XCR mountain bike was one if not the first composite mountain bikes ever made. Well, maybe not composite in the way we might think of it today, but still no less true in the sense of the word. The original XCR released in 1983 as a fillet brazed steel frame was one of the first bikes made by Richard Cunningham under the Mantis brand [You can see two of the few known 83 XCRs here and here]. Then in 1984 Richard upped the ante and released the composite XCR. The idea behind this bike was the use two dissimilar metals where their specific qualities were best. Aluminum in the front for a stiff pedaling platform and chromoly steel in the rear for compliance. Since you can't weld the two metals the natural solution was to bolt them together. The early XCRs had a traditional double diamond frame design and it wasn't until around 1989 that the elevated chainstay design first pioneered on the Valkyrie made it over to the XCR. The elevated chainstay version of the XCR debuted at the 1989 Interbike show and stayed in production almost until the sale of the company around 1994. Towards the end of Mantis Richard started experimenting with full Aluminum construction on the XCR and a few prototypes were made for the race team. Though more rare and by that measure possibly more collectable those bikes were hastily made and in my humble opinion fall by the wayside when compared with the earlier composite XCR and lack a lot of the uniqueness that make this bike so fascinating.

What I really think is great about this bike is just the sheer creativity and in a way simplicity in it's execution.Sure you might say it looks all complicated, and weird but really if you think about it it's not. Let me explain, if you wanted to build a steel bike and make it really stiff, you'd have to get large tubing which for one wasn't available in a great many sizes and then it would be heavy. The opposite goes for Aluminum (which was rarely use on mountain bikes were rare in 1984) if you want it to be compliant you need to get fancy with butting and custom drawing of tubing which wasn't doable in those early days. So, if you want compliance you take normal thin gauge steel tubing and if you want stiffness you take straight gauge, oversize Aluminum tubing. The problem though comes when you want to marry the two. In case you didn't know, you can't weld dissimilar metals. So, you could glue it, but who in their right mind would do that on a mountain bike (turns out people did), or maybe make some sort of high tolerance press fit, or you could use the oldest trick in the book and bolt it together. Which is exactly what RC did in this case, using Sugino seat binder bolts no less. Can you imagine that order coming in??? I need 3000 seat binder bolts... the person on the other line would think you're really doing well selling that many bikes, only to find out you were using 4 bolts per frame. Then again, RC was known to use Sugino binder bolts as chainring bolts, so maybe they weren't surprised at the volume order. [Side note : anyone know the other example of a bi-metallic mountain bike built later on??? Hint : It's not a duck] The final result is really quite impressive if you take it at face value and rewind the clock to 1984. The bike actually rode pretty well, they weren't known to fail and were quite light by the standards at the time (this bike weighs 25.8lbs). The front fork is steel as well which in a way balances out the rear and makes for a fairly predictable ride characteristic.

The elevated chainstay version of the bike is a bit more flexy in the rear than it's non elevated counterpart, but it's not terrible. At the time of writing this piece I've done a couple laps on the local trails and found the bike pleasant, thought not immensely exhilarating in any way. These were shakedown laps and on old weathered 2.0 tires so I took it quite easy. I plan on putting bigger, modern tires on it soon and properly putting it through its paces. I'm not sure I expect to be surprised but I think it will go down as a bike that captures a point in time very well and basically does its job.

The build is full Suntour XC-PRO with Grease Guard, thought does not feature Micro Drive. When I first got the bike it actually had MD on it, but the rear hub was completely rusted out and I had to replace it with a freehweel version and I didn't have any MD freewheels around so I converted it to the standard or Power Ring version. Aside from that the only other notable feature on this bike are the Suntour made Pedersen Self Energizing rear brakes. These brakes used the motion of the rear wheel against the pads to twist an internal spring which effectively gave you more stopping power... or rather more power applied to the rim, what the tires did with that is a whole other story. In this case the rear stays are a bit soft for these brakes and the result is somewhat squishy and grabby non modulating feeling. Maybe it needs more tuning, somehow I doubt it.

One last thing I like or rather find uniquely interesting about this frame is the contrast between the beautifully brazed and formed rear end and the somewhat crudely welded front triangle with its massive reinforcing gussets. Richard was used to working with Aluminum (he built light weight airplanes) but his technique was not much more than practical, whereas he was quite skilled with the torch when it came to steel and was well known for his un-filed fillet brazed frame.

Walking the expo at this past weekend’s Dirt Fest I couldn’t help but marvel at all the killer new bikes on display. As a fan of vintage bikes a vast majority of my experience with frame construction materials is mostly constrained to steel, aluminum and titanium. Carbon fiber, at least as we know it today was not widespread in the early days of mountain biking. Early attempts at composite bikes started coming on the scene with bikes like the 1987 Kestrel MX-Z and the 1988 Trimble Carbon Cross. Those bikes (which I will discuss in an upcoming web article) were considered a composite construction and unlike today’s true carbon fiber bikes had fiberglass and other materials incorporated into the carbon weave, which was often applied over a core, foam for the MX-Z and Douglas Fir (yes that’s a tree) for the prototype Trimble. These early attempts at building a composite mountain bike were novel and unique but in my opinion fell short of the label of carbon fiber bikes. While it’s hard to pin point with total certainty the first time all carbon construction was applied to mountain bikes this Carbonframes Onyx is certainly a strong contender for that title.

Carbonframes was the first commercial venture of one Craig Calfee who went on to start Calfee Design who are well known for their organic looking carbon and bamboo bikes. While not his first carbon bike, that honor goes to the Sapphire road bike, the Onyx was his first and only attempt at building a carbon mountain bike (oddly enough Calfee makes off road cabon tandems these days). The Onyx is one of the more striking bikes I’ve ever seen, I think it would look equally at home in a modern art gallery or as prop designed by H.R. Giger for the set of Alien.

The mix of organic curves of the frame and the way the carbon tubes are bonded together is contrasted by the sharp corners of the reinforcing gussets, making you think it was not design by an engineer but rather an artist. Turns out this isn’t far from the truth. Craig Calfee gained most of his practical knowledge of working with carbon fiber while working on Olympic caliber composite sculling boats and eventually sailing boats, while pursuing a sculpting degree at the New York City art college. Craig combined those skills with his passion for cycling and started building all carbon bikes around 1988. The Onyx was a revolutionary bike at its time, and seeing it for the first time at the 1990 Interbike in Anaheim must have been breathtaking, . Not only was the frame made of CF and weighing in at around 3.4lbs without a fork (at a time where most frames were over 4 lbs), but it also seamlessly incorporated elevated chainstay technology (I use that term loosely here) which was the new ‘it’ trend in the late 80s. The beauty of carbon fiber is that it is isotropic, and allows you to create structures that have physical characteristics that depend on the direction in which it is laid up. Craig understood this very well and set out to build a frame that is both rigid but has built in damping characteristics. I think if you compare it to the frames of the time you would agree with that to a point, also I imagine it helps being a spindly XC racer. However, with the benefit of 30 years of hindsight and for a guy who tops 200lbs the bike is not what you’d call confidence inspiring. As I write this I’ve not logged many miles on the Onyx, but the few I have combined feedback from others who have ridden it paints a slightly different opinion. The Onyx is a fine bike for an average XC jaunt on your local trails. It’s a fair climber and handles pretty well (courtesy of the short wheelbase). However it’s a different story when you point it downhill and toss in some obstacles, and things go a bit sideways quickly. Basically, if you watch your speed and keep things in check you’ll be fine, but my alarm bells were ringing anytime speed crept up into the double digits. So, while it wasn’t the best bike in the long run it was a true milestone in the development of today’s carbon bikes. As I gear up for the larger carbon story the thing that rings true for me about carbon is that it in terms of mountain bikes it was a technology without a real application that is until full suspension came along. So, bikes like the Onyx, Trimble, MX-Z and the famous Yeti C-26 were early explorations into a world of what could be, and what would eventually enable the radical machines many of us take for granted today.

The handmade, limited quantity production aspect of this bike comes through in the way the dropouts are integrated into the carbon stays.

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