It’s been a good week for getting back onto the design + prototype wagon. Here I’m prototyping the new (and well overdue) full leather ride pouch. After making it up, a few things are changing as more interesting ways to achieve the same thing but with added function cropped up. Once this process down 100%, it’ll be onto more bags and the like, which I have been wanting to do properly for too long now.

Also got the tubing sorted for one of the new frames in the works.

Hand pressing snaps into Bomb Truck shorts

We have been working slowly on our frame designs here, something if you follow us on Twitter you might have caught wind of. It’s a simple line consisting of three ‘real world riding’ frame configurations, all made in the US from US made materials and components. Reading that, I can hear alarm bells going off as the thought of ‘handmade in the US’ floods you with pictures of boutique prices. We have a few surprises in store for you…

One of the frames, the ‘M1′, is a 5.5″ travel trail bike and with materials selected, suspension engineering by Sotto Group completed and the basic design already done, it’s time to consider the nitty gritty of clearances and detailing. Naturally, the thought of tyre clearance for the rear has come to mind and a few have already suggested that we should consider allowing for the 650B size.

Now I’ll be the first to say that I am a pretty die-hard 26″ guy, especially when it comes to FS bikes. My aversion to 29″ is no secret and we decided last week not to do a hard-tail MTB as everyone involved in this undertaking has reservations about the 29″ format; even if the 29″ fad is sweeping the world, generating sales where there might not have been any, we’d prefer not to build a bike we don’t believe in rather than pay lip service and cash in. Don’t get me wrong here, for some people, in some places, the 29er is a fine format but it’s not something for all people everywhere; which unfortunately the marketing machines of the big players are doing their damndest to tell everyone with alarming degrees of success, killing the 26″ HT market in the process.

For a FS bike, I think the 29″ format is daft. Simple as that and I don’t care where you ride. In saying that, my strong reaction to 29″ FS bikes has nothing to do with being ‘anti 29er’ but everything to do with the pure mechanics of it. Adding 3″ to the wheel size of a FS bike not only messes with the stand over (already a challenge as travel increases) but also throws the wheelbase well out of whack, messes with the gearing selections/range, places ever greater levels of stress on the frame and generally causes everything to be over engineered, if you are doing things correctly. The net result is a bike that is bigger, weighs more, has less travel and all for the net gain of what, I am not quite so sure.

In the mad fad, it seems a FS 29er is everything people actually do not want but seem to still be asking for! Talk about being caught up in the hype to the point of hysteria!

So, for us, the ‘M1′ was slated to be 26″.

Enter the 650B.

650B sits squarely in the middle of 26 and 29″ and is one of those quirky ‘French things’ from road bikes. There was interest in it for a short period in the MTB world until the 29″ monster trounced it, returning to the shadows. But as the inherent problems of designing a 29″ wheeled FS bike worth a damn become more and more apparent (where a 3″ travel bike is NOT worth a damn), people are once again looking at the 650B wheels as a potential format, evidenced by ever increasing murmurs that the likes of Fox, Rock Shox and DT Swiss are all ‘at it’ for 2013.

But why? Is this just another drive to sell more new format crap no one wants/needs (your choice)?

The reasons are pretty simple to be honest. On the outside, the most enticing prospect of the 650B format is the promise of the faster rolling 29″ but with much, much fewer of the downfalls. The 650B wheel size does not demand any great resizing of frames, meaning much of the tried and true 26″ geometry can be used and even many current frames could accept the wheel. As a result with just a wheel, shock modification (or swap) and fork change, many out there will be able to move their existing frames and parts to the 650B format, rather than pony up for a completely new 29″ bike that they may or may not like. That right there is a pretty big draw card which just might see it take of properly if supported – ‘plug and play’… almost.

From our point of view, the key aspect to thinking the 650B format is worth allowing for is that we do not have to reinvent the wheel (there’s a pun there) and design something that is really a stab in the dark – a 29″ FS frame. When you combine that with knowing that what you design, and ultimately will be offering, will do everything you promise for 99% of the people out there, the 650B allowance is a winner.

For myself, I am more than curious about the 650B format as I can see that it will have some clear advantages over the much beloved 26 and none of the appalling traits of the 29 when used in a FS application.

Need4Speed: Insight from Phoenix Fly on Vimeo.

For the past half year, I have been lucky enough to be riding on Easton’s Haven wheel sets. I say wheel SETS as I scored both the Aluminium AND the Carbon versions to use. Unlike many reviews, I have used both sets extensively under my 95kg (!) backside for months on end so feel comfortable in saying that they have actually been extensively, and thoroughly, used.

So, what is there to be said about these wonders? One would think I should be full of praise and joy. I did not pay for these wheels but they were paid for, so Easton did not ‘give’ them for testing. As such I am not obliged to say anything good about them if I don’t want to… but I do… for the most part.

If you are someone who missed the hype first time around, to recap just what the Haven’s are: The Haven’s are Easton’s top of the line mountain bike wheels, touted to be able to withstand the worst of punishment. The UST rims use a proprietary nipple system mated to (apparently off the shelf SAPIM 2.0/1.7/2.0) straight pull spokes, all laced to a purpose designed hub. Each wheel is put together by hand (there’s even a sticker that says so!) and represent the pinnacle in Eaton’s ability to design and make lightweight, tough as nails wheels.

They are not cheap and the carbon’s cost as much as some people’s fancy bikes!

The first thing thing that strikes one about the Havens, depending on which version you have, is that they look ‘money’. I have a set of the magnesium coloured aluminium’s and when combined with the graphics and very polished magnesium coloured hubs, they are hard to miss. The carbon’s are more subdued but the graphics again make sure people know what you are rolling on. Drill deeper though and I have to say I love the hubs. From 2011 on, the hubs, both front and rear, are switchable between various standards. The simple system of unscrew the tensioner, pull out the axle adaptor and put in a new one is pure simplicity. The tensioner too is also nice as many wheels that run on sealed bearings lack this feature, so if they become sloppy, they stay that way. The Haven’s can be adjusted to take up any slight wiggle that may develop over time.

Weight wise, light is the word. The Al’s are light, 1650grams for the set and the carbon’s are lighter again @ 1450 grams. So yea, these are performance driven wheels and the price tag says as much (even allowing for variations, or indeed CRC, they are not cheap).

Enough of the techno guff. How do they hold up I hear you ponder?

When I first put the Al Haven’s on a proto frame I was running, I was convinced the wheels were ‘soft’. On the trail they squirmed and flexed and generally were just a little yuk. I though was under a misconception as it was the crap tyres that I was using that had the sidewall stiffness of a wet noodle (I like Conti tyres that have firm sidewalls and ride ‘stiff’). When I got around to putting new Conti rubber on the wheels in a tubeless config. the wheels came to life. Their weight meant that they rolled fast, accelerated faster and their stiffness had them tracking like they are on rails. Overall they ended up being everything Easton has been claiming. Got to say I was pretty chuffed.

But all was not well.

I had been running the carbon’s on my carbon hardball, you know just for that totally overblown, ridiculous look (I even have matching Haven carbon bars!). The carbon wheels run the same construction and parts set up as the Al rwheels, so by all accounts they should perform every bit as well as the Al versions. And they do, even better… to a point.

You can easily notice the different between the two wheels. While the Al’s are stiff and fast, the carbon versions add extra snap. If you don’t know what I mean by that, generally your average wheels will be ‘there’; they will do the job but won’t have much in the way of life to them, ie. they are somewhat lifeless. Performance wheels have spunk. They tend to be lively and add a dynamic feeling to the bike. The carbon Haven’s are lively and snappy – they react to… everything, giving a bike a very lively feel. Riding them you feel like you are riding a GP bike! Like the Al, they track like they are on rails but being 200 odd grams lighter (that’s 200 off the rolling mass), they accelerate even faster. I feel like a fake on these wheels as they seem to spend a lot of time laughing at me.

The carbon’s though, started popping spokes.

First one went. I noticed it by chance and even kept riding the wheel for two weeks missing said spoke – the rim remained dead straight. But then another and another popped and now the rear wheel has three missing spokes. It’s hard to say if it’s the wheels, the construction or a bad batch of spokes but if I had paid the national debt of a small country to buy these, I would have not been happy. Granted Easton offers a no questions asked warranty (that’s how confident they are) but still, three spokes on a brand new wheel?

On the other hand the Al’s have been flawless, which makes me think that maybe it’s something to do with the spokes themselves, a bad batch maybe – that happens and I can buy that as an excuse. Regardless, I have not replaced the spokes yet as I am using the Al and keeping the carbon’s for a new upcoming build, so can’t comment right now on the replacement process. On the outside, it looks simple enough and does not seem to involve anything fancy.

Overall, the Haven’s are one product that live up to the claim of the manufacturer. They are light, strong, look good and are well designed. Other than the carbon’s issues with spokes, they seem very well made. Would I actually buy these is the likely next question. Over any of the offerings from Mavic at similar prices, yes. My Crossmax wheels were woefully shit. Over a set of hand built custom wheels? that’s a harder call. My man Dave built a set of wheels recently that are not that far off the mark weight wise and are every bit as bling, maybe blinger, but for a lot less than the Haven’s.

Personally I think I’d go the custom wheels… Hope hubs make a lovely loud sound. But if you like wheels that come with a warranty and have the cash to spend, you can’t go much past the Al Haven’s. I personally can’t recommend the carbon’s though. Not because they are not good, they are. But at their price I just can’t see how they are any better than the regular version other than being 200 grams lighter – and there are better/cheaper/easier ways to save 200 grams on a bike.

Easton.com

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5.50am.

Far to steamy for that time of the morning but the quietness was nice; no commuters jamming the bike path.

I cross the main road at the end of the path and head over to the flyover. That’s when he appeared.

Silent. I didn’t see or hear him at all. The morning commuter on his Kona.

He zipped passed me and sped off. I’ll catch him on the fly over, easy.

But it wasn’t.

He kept ahead and sailed off the footpath to cross the intersection; the cleanest, smoothest hop I’d seem in a while. He made no noise, just a ‘pop-hop’ and off again.

I got close half way over the flyover. I had reeled him in that little bit.

But then it was onto the bridge climb. A fast down and then up to the apex of the bridge. Maybe 4-500 meters all up.

Feeling good, warmed up, and pushing my single ‘big’ ring, my pace was not slow… his was just faster, smoother.

Better.

I hit the apex of the climb, I can still see him. Maybe, just maybe, I can pull him in on the drop down to the switchback path.

Not a chance.

Just as quietly as he arrived in my ride, he vanished. He dropped the hammer and was no where to be seen.

No where.

That dude was fast.

To you Sir, whoever you are, I tip my hat.

Done and dusted with Mountain Cycle, I was cleaning up my files when I came across a wad of drawing scans I did that defines the design process of the Mountain Cycle San Andreas 2.0; from the period of 2008-2011 I was involved with Mountain Cycle and in 2009 was tasked to design, manage and oversee (the Taiwan based owners chose to manage production and QC themselves) the first new line of frames the company had seen for some years.

The design process used to create such bikes, or products for that matter, is one that for many remains a mystery – it’s understood that somewhere someone does something and at the end a finished product is spat out of a factory but not much more. So rather than bury this away, never to be seen again, I thought some out there might find the whole process interesting, or at very least slightly entertaining.

Industrial Design is the design of, no, not industry but products. The more suitable name for the profession is ‘Product Design’ and for better or worse, it plays a central role in everyone’s everyday life, at least in the developed world. From the spoon you ate your cereal with, to the car (!) that drove you to work and the computer that you are reading this on, a Product Designer has spent more than a few hours to conceive, design and develop the numerous products you have interfaced with so far today. In the world of bicycles, for those companies that invest in design beyond the traditional, it’s no different.

It all starts with a brief.

The brief is completely dependent on the aims of the company and what it’s end goals are for the project in question. In some cases it may be as simple as designing something to fit a certain price point or market, to fill a gap in their line, or it could be far more in depth, tying in all manner of different factors to create what are called ‘masthead products’. For Mountain Cycle, designing the San Andreas 2.0 was to take the bull by the horns and design a bike that not only took on the namesake of it’s legendary predecessor, but which was also the masthead of the company. It was no small task considering the legendary status of the original and I knew no matter what we did, it was going to offend someone somewhere – as is usually the case in such projects where the core customers are emotionally attached to the original design.

2001, The original

The concept. An idea derived from the base criteria.

Even before I begun, I knew that the design was going to be a single pivot (SP). Not only was SP a mainstay of pretty much all previous Mountain Cycle frames but it’s also something I firmly believe is the ideal system for people that ride hard, a lot – it’s simple, effective and easy to maintain (read my thoughts on this here). With this in mind though, I also wanted to introduce a rocker into the system to fine tune the shock’s travel path and ultimately make it more suitable to an air shock.

Lastly, I always thought for an aluminium frame, the BB, swingarm and rocker pivots should all be part of the same central assembly to ensure good long term alignment and stiffness and with these key criteria in place, a rough ‘package’ of datum points was established to start working around as the basis for the design concept.

Early Concept sketch

The simultaneous greatness and failing of the original San Andreas was the Monocoque frame. Failing because monocoque frames generally suffer from a ‘one size fits all’ syndrome, either that or you require tooling for each and every size, tooling which becomes very costly to establish and a real issue to modify or update (pretty much like carbon frames). Add to this, the subframe sizing/multi-position solution employed by the original to work around the single size mainframe really was a little half arsed – nice in theory, not so great in practice as it repositioned the COG (center of gravity) differently on the same wheelbase.

For the new San Andreas, a more traditional arrangement needed to be employed, one that would allow for a relatively easy resizing of the frames while eliminating the need to modify the base tooling. This of course would not be in keeping with the gist of the original and while I knew we would put noses out of joint and offend people, the realities of modern Asian based volume production had to be allowed for – there is little room, or (often) interest, for flexibility or doing things out of the ordinary.

The most logical conclusion was to use a down tube (DT) and then create the feeling of the original monocoque and subframe, elements that defined the San Andreas, via a Top Tube (TT) arrangement – but one that could be trimmed to size. Doing this would be creating something that both took the San Andreas forward but also showed a lineage from the original.

Many have said that this style of design is closer to the older Mountain Cycle Fury of the early 2000′s, but interestingly a little known fact was that the ‘Fury’ frame was devised as a cheaper, easier to produce, San Andreas; I always have felt that the Fury should have been called something closer to San Andreas, SA 1.5 maybe, rather than Fury, making the continuation of the marquee over time easier. Looking at the Fury frame, one also realises that as a design it’s rather efficient so designing something in the way that was being looked at, but NOT be a new Fury, was not an easy ask.

Once the idea of a monocoque style ‘TT’ was settled on, the job was to design and define the form of the tube itself, as this was going to become the focus of the frame. By this stage, Sotto Group was involved to provide an engineering and suspension solution, so trading back and forth, we came up with the concept of passing the shock though the ‘TT’ via what became known as the ‘Shock Tunnel’. Doing this allowed a form to be created that was smooth and seamless, not broken or forced forward as would have been the case if the ‘TT’ were to be interrupted, or not, by the shock.

Having Sotto on board also meant we could employ a SP suspension system they had been working on that perfectly matched what I had originally been thinking about; but took the concept to the next level. The ‘Turntable’ system, as it came to be known, fine tunes the shock path and rate through a rocker that revolves around a patent pivot system. The net result of this was each bike designed to use the Turntable system could be fine tuned to achieve maximum effectiveness from the suspension, all the while being anchored in a central ‘block’ as I had envisaged.

With the core foundations now set in place, over a period of a month or so, the design and development of the frame took shape.

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As can be seen, the original designs for the TT were a lot more ‘crisp’ with a far more developed aesthetic. The original design would have seen the whole ‘TT’ formed as a single piece through hydraulic pressure forming, also known as ‘hydroforming’. Unfortunately, the owners of Mountain Cycle ultimately chose not to make the spend on the initial tooling cost to create the hydroforming dies for budget reasons, so we elected to making the tube through the more basic monocoquue process of pressing two half shells and welding down the centre – the same way the original frame was made 20 years earlier. The cost savings using this method ultimately were marginal, as the increased amount of time required to set up the initial moulds, increased labour content, complex welding jigs, seam welding and resulting defect rate ultimately would outweigh the initial tooling investment of hydroforming over the medium to long term.

It was in moving to the monocoque process, that much of the ‘crisp’ detailing was lost from the tube; the pressing methods utilised to create the half shells are unable to achieve the finer level of detailing able to be gained through hydroforming. As a result, the final design ended up being much softer than originally conceived.

Once the from and overall mechanics had been decided and agreed on, Sotto built the frame in 3D via software called ProEngineer. As Sotto was to work directly with the factory in Taiwan for the pilot run process and the initial tooling set up etc., they undertook all the 3D work, something quite often undertaken by the Product Designer who then passes over to the engineer to refine and engineer further. Finally, once the frame was fully realised in 3D, we could assess the design more comprehensively and make alterations and amendments as needed.

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After the final round of refinements were translated back into 3D and everyone was happy, the process began to tool up for prototyping and initial production.

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While several steps both Sotto and myself deemed essential prior to actually starting on tooling and production starting were skipped, and as I had made the call to CNC all of the required parts for the initial runs (as opposed to going straight into costly and time intensive forging tooling as the factory would have preferred), pretty much everything worked out first time around with minimal of fuss (luckily); only a few minor changes had to be made, requiring new CNC parts, not modified or even new forging tooling, which would have taken months to do.

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As the design team, we knew the end result could have been better in several areas but overall we all felt the end result is pretty damn good; the aims to create a design that could sit along side the original, as its successor, were met.

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Following on from the San Andreas design, I kept the to the same thinking to create a ‘family’ and we very quickly progressed to design the Zen II, a scaled back and far more traditional design and then go on to produce the Shockwave Two DH frame, a visually far more aggressive version of the San Andreas 2.0 and one intentionally at odds with the current crop of ‘swoopy’ designs. Again, the use of hydroforming to form the Shockwave TT, rather than the monocoque method, would have produced a for more refined design but the end result, all felt, produced the desired results.

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Overall the designs of both the San Andreas and Shockwave frames have polarised people, in a market that I personally feel is driven by a ‘chasing one’s own tail’ mentality. I wrote an article about this some time back, so won’t repeat it here but no one on the team is unhappy with the end results. Ultimately, we all felt the new bikes represent what Mountain Cycle stands for as a brand perfectly – bulldog, industrial machines for riders first. And that’s the job of good design – to embody what a brand stands for.

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Thought it’d be nice to make myself an old skool style urban musette…

It came from nowhere. It started small, an innocuous *click, click, click*. The following week that click began to be a creak and in turn that creak began to sound like an earth shattering groan with each turn of the non drive side crank.

I could feel it though my shoe.

I’m not sure about you but I don’t want to hear anything other than the calming spin of the chain through the jockey wheels. So having a creak like this is, in short, fucking annoying.

So, after two weeks of hopeing it would go away, I pulled the cranks off, put in a spare bottom bracket, pulled off the chainrings and reassembled everything.

*CREEEEEEEEEEAK*

And there is was.

Another few rides pass and nothing changes, so I swap the pedal from my other bike.

And it’s even worse.

What the hell is this?

Off comes the pedal (and the one it replaced) and into the workshop. I pull off the end caps, only to be reminded these ATAC pedals are ‘non serviceable’. Nice. Plenty of grease regardless.

On they go again, plenty of grease on the spindles too.

Then the ride.

2 hours of almost quiet… except for a feint *click, click, click*.

Ok. Ride one leg. Look like a fool but the click goes away. Ride the other leg and still look like a fool. There it is.

But get out of the saddle (both feet on the pedals!) and away it goes. That’s counter intuitive as it should get louder.

I’m at wit’s end.

So I finish the ride, turn off all the various gadgets, stand and ponder. Then in an act of desperation I grab a handful of crank arm and push.

And there it is, I can even feel it.

It’s not the bloody pedals at all, it’s the arm/spindle interface (I thought I ‘sorted’ that??).

Ok, so they’ll come off now and receive the royal treatment.

We’ll see if that works…

PS: it did.

If riding your bike is the *thing* you do, then you’ll know this feeling.

It’s not uncommon, in your riding ‘career’, to have time off. Sometimes it’s forced, sometimes it’s by choice. Sometimes it’s for a lot longer than you thought it might be.

Then the time comes, for whatever reason, and you climb back on your bike. And it hurts. Bad. In reflection though you realise 70% of the hurt is in your head, the hurt pride and the difference of where you left your bike mind and the current reality.

Realising this reality is the crux. You either push through it, or you slip, miss the hold and fall back down.

Sometimes it takes several leaps to make that hold but once you have it, you can push past it. That’s when ‘it’ comes.

From nowhere ‘it’ returns. Unexpected. Without any former warning.

‘It’ is the day when you roll out the door and you have the ride where the gap between where you left your mind and the current reality is bridged. It’s not quite as it was, the alignment is not perfect but it’s close enough and you realise why you ride a bike and how it makes you feel.

It’s the ride you have to have, otherwise you are lost in the abyss. Once you have it though, the burn returns and all you want to do is ride.