On Bicycle Reviews

Once in a while I get an email from someone who bought a bicycle after reading positive things about it on this blog, only to discover that I also had other, more critical posts about the very same bike. When this happens it is only natural that the reader feels some degree of betrayal, and that I in turn feel guilty. I start to think that maybe I should wait until I've owned a bike for years before reviewing it, and that I should generally try to tone down the enthusiasm in my posts. But frankly, I don't think that would help matters. Having started this blog as a beginner, my preferences are in a constant state of evolution, making me an inherently untrustworthy reviewer. And I think the bigger issue is that all bicycle reviews are to some extent unreliable for these same reasons, and that reading them at face value is a mistake. Just consider the myriad of factors that can shape a bicycle review. Do you keep them in mind when interpreting the author's feedback?

Reviewer's physical characteristics

This one gets overlooked a great deal, but I think it's an important place to start. Consider, for example, that a cyclist's size and weight are going to affect their experience of any given bike. Unless you are similar in these characteristics to the reviewer, you may not experience the same bike in the same manner: a bicycle that feels perfectly comfortable to them may feel overly stiff (or overly flexible) to you; a bicycle that is perfectly proportioned for them may feel ill-proportioned to you.  Physical strength and degree of fitness plays a role as well. 

Reviewer's cycling background

How experienced is the reviewer at the time the review is written (that last bit is especially crucial to pay attention to when reading old reviews from bloggers who have since gained more experience)? And what type of cycling background are they coming from? An evaluation of a bicycle as fast/responsive by a seasoned racer is going to have very different implications than the same evaluation from someone whose experience has been limited to beach cruisers. Same with the notions of comfort, stability, and so on. 

Basis for comparison

What other bicycles has this person ridden and owned? If someone has never ridden a Dutch bike before and they review, say, a Batavus, their impressions are likely to be of Dutch bikes as a general concept rather of Batavus specifically, simply because the whole category is so new and striking to them. Same with racing bikes, mountain bikes, and so on. 

Duration of experience

Beware of statements such as "The bicycle felt great as soon as I started riding it," or "I knew right away that I loved it." And yes, I am probably guilty of making them myself - we all are. But the truth is that our impressions of bicycles change as we experience them across different contexts, and to experience them across different contexts we need time. How often and for how long has the reviewer been riding the bicycle? How long are their individual rides compared to yours? If a bicycle causes pain or fatigue after 50 miles, the reviewer whose rides are limited to 20 miles will be unaware of it. 

Applicability

Does the reviewer use the bicycle for the same purpose, or in the same way, as you would use it? The author's feedback is only truly applicable to the reader when that is the case. But if a bicycle is praised for loaded touring, whereas you are planning to commute on it or use it as a roadbike, chances are you will not experience its ride quality in quite the same way as the reviewer.

Value system

Every reviewer is different in terms of what it is they value about a bike. To some it is important that they feel no road vibration, whereas others could not care less. For some toe overlap is unacceptable, whereas others won't even notice it. Some care mostly about how a bicycle handles loaded, some have distinct seat tube angle preferences, some take note of how cleanly filed the joints of the frame are, some are concerned about the quality of the paintjob. There are loads of issues like this that a reviewer may omit simply because they don't care one way or the other, at least at the time of the review. 

Pattern of bias

Once you read a handful of reviews by the same author, a pattern of bias will usually emerge. Some reviewers criticise the heck out of all bicycles as a matter of course, so a "positive" review from them still looks pretty negative. Conversely, there are those who are enthusiastic about all the bikes they review, and then you have to carefully read between the lines and try to determine what they might be omitting. There are those reviewers who are prone to the "honeymoon effect" and those who keep a cool head. Reviewers' impressions can lean toward the emotional, the technical, the superficial, the overanalytical - you name it. Whatever their specific pattern may be, it holds clues for how to interpret that reviewer's feedback.

No doubt there are many more factors worth considering, and I invite you to share your own strategies for interpreting bicycle reviews. More than anything, I think it is crucial to read as many reviews of the same bike as you can find - and if a common thread emerges, that's when it becomes truly informative. Also, for those bicycles we don't get a chance to see in person, the images offered by reviewers can be more telling and detailed than those provided by the manufacturer. Reviews are usually useful, no matter how biased. But to "trust" a single reviewer because you like their blog or find their narrative style entertaining is, in my opinion, asking for trouble. There is no such thing as a reliable narrator, and bicycle reviews are no exception. 

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In the Raw

During a recent visit to Harris Cyclery I had a rather emotional encounter with a creature I had not seen in some time - a Brompton bicycle in raw lacquer. The raw lacquer finish was offered as a standard choice when we were first considering Bromptons several years ago. And then - bang, it was suddenly unavailable. I forget the precise cause (something to do with changes in finishing technique?), but at some point I was told it was impossible to get one, at least for the time being - which of course only exaggerated my memories of how beautiful and unique the raw lacquer was. I mourned its disappearance and fantasised about its return. And now there it was, in the corner of the bike shop - unapologetically glorious in its nudity.

To be clear, this is not just about the Brompton. In my early days of bicycle shopping I had to be talked down from an unreasonable crush on the Rivendell Bombadil (the original version), which at the time was distinguished by its raw finish. The bare steel frame looked dirty yet shimmery underneath the clearcoat, and the juxtaposition activated some aesthetic hot-button in my brain quicker than I could pronounce the bike's name. In the Brompton this effect is multiplied tenfold because of its diminutive size and complexity. The multitude of miniature brazed joints fascinates while the warm glow of the bronze lures. Oh dear.

This is what the bicycle looks like in its entirety. It can look either charcoal or olive depending on the light, at times bearing a resemblance to tree bark. With a brown leather saddle to set off the frame, the look would be even more organic.

Because the Brompton is a folder, there are countless opportunities to exhibit brazed joints - which is no doubt why they chose to offer this finish as an option. It underscores the labor and thought that must have gone into designing the fold - so many tiny bits and pieces, all brazed.

Even this!

And this.

Not to mention all of this. (I am curious about that uncapped seatstay though - how is the moisture kept out?)

An interesting feature of the clear coat is that it makes everything look wet, giving an impression of the frame having been freshly completed moments ago. Of course, frames aren't wet when they are brazed, but the impression of immediacy is still there; the process of construction feels alive and vibrant.

I can imagine that the raw finish is not for everyone. Some might find the resulting colour scheme drab. Others might feel it's too busy with all those contrasts highlighting the joints. Others still may not want to be constantly aware of their bicycle frame's construction - I suppose it could make one nervous. But for me, it is a true visual feast.

There is some unresolved debate regarding whether a clear coat is enough to protect a frame from rust, and that is one issue that's prevented me from getting a bicycle with that finish. But if I ever finally take the plunge and acquire a Brompton, I believe that this will be the one. Hopefully it will always remain available as a classic option.

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Pilen Lyx: the Pragmatic Romantic

Earlier this summer, I had a Pilen Lyx lady's bicycle in my possession for over a month, on loan from the US distributor BoxCycles. During this time I got to know the bicycle fairly well, and it is one of the more unusual classic bikes I have ridden so far - with a combination of qualities that makes it difficult to categorise. A city bike and an off-road bike in one, the Pilen is attractive, durable, amazingly stable, and is capable of hauling a great deal of weight.

When the blue Pilen was delivered to me, I was taken aback by its striking looks. I knew that this bicycle was designed to be practical, not pretty. A Scandinavian friend described its reputation as that of a "tank" - resistant to rust, tolerant of neglect and abuse, and indifferent to getting dropped on the ground or crashed at slow speeds - all around "solid." In a region that is no stranger to heavy-duty bikes, that is quite a statement and it led me to expect a purely no-nonesense machine. But in person the Pilen has a romantic quality to it that transcends the practical aspects.

It is not a quaint bicycle. But it is graceful and evocative. My imagination immediately went into overdrive with daydreams of seaside forest trails and lush meadows under stormy skies - the Pilen gliding through them with a stack of firewood strapped to its rear rack. While in a way such flights of fancy are absurd, I think that a bicycle's ability to inspire is tremendously important, and the Pilen inspires.

Aside from the looks in a general sense, I was impressed with the frame construction. I knew that the frame was TIG-welded (not lugged) steel, so I was not expecting to swoon over it. But as far as welded frames go, this is swoon-worthy. The frame joints are beautiful, with the welding marks nearly invisible - visually on par with custom frames.

The curved seat stays are capped and meet the seat tube in the most elegant manner. No shortcuts, no ugly blobs here. The top of the seat tube has a "collar" that completes the quality feel.

The crisp, lugged fork crown balances out the details at the rear. It is really very nicely done and I prefer a frame like this by far to frames where the main tubes are half-heartedly lugged, with a welded rear triangle or a unicrown fork slapped on.

My one criticism of the frame construction, is that while there are details such as a braze-on for the front wheel stabiliser spring, there are no braze-ons for the shifter cable and it is attached along the down tube with black clips. Why not add a couple of braze-ons here?

The Pilen headbadge: "cycles from Malilla." The word pilen means "arrow" in Swedish. The bicycles are designed and assembled in-house, with the frames built in Taiwan to their specifications.

Pilen bicycles come equipped with Brooks B66 saddles (B66S for the lady's frame) in a selection of colours. Frame colour can also be selected - the other options being black, dark green and dark red.

Rubber grips and a Pilen-branded bell. You have to spin the bell to ring it, which can work nicely for those whole finger hurts from trigger-style bells.

The version of the Lyx I had was equipped with a 3-speed Shimano coaster brake hub with a twist shifter. Other possibilities are available, including hand-operated brakes and 8-speed hubs. The bicycle comes with a dynamo hub-powered headlight, which can be attached either below the stem or on the side, via a braze-on on the fork - depending on whether you plan to attach a basket. When the headlight it attached below the stem, the wire is contained within a long spring that attaches to a braze-on on the fork. I have never seen this method before and spent a lot of time examining the spring.

The tail light is battery powered - as is increasingly the trend with many European bicycles that previously used dynamo-powered lighting front and rear. I think the trend is an unfortunate one, and wish the Pilen had a dynamo-powered tail light.

The tires are 700C x 48mm Schwalbe Big Apples, black with reflective sidewalls.

One feature that gives the Pilen its distinct look is the custom rear rack. It is beautifully made, with hand-painted insignia, and is unusually large.

For reference, this is a large pizza box (17"x17").

Jammed under the saddle and held in place with a rat-trap spring. Yup, that's all it takes to transport a pizza on this bike.

This is the only rack I've seen with not one but two rat-trap springs, and they came in handy when devising creative ways to carry shopping bags. I have also attached stacks of large, heavy boxes to the rack with bungee cords, and it hardly flinched. The platform is so wide, that the packages stay very stable. The one downside of a rack like this, however, is that the tubing is too thick for pannier systems that attach via hooks. Ortlieb, R&K, Fastrider and Basil hooks will not fit around it. Only a system such as the one Po Campo uses (shown above and reviewed here) will work with the Pilen rack.

An optional front rack is also available with the Pilen (shown and reviewed here), but I opted not to install it. This front rack felt excessively heavy, and at 47lb the bicycle was already borderline too much for me to handle without it. I was also told that installing the front rack scratches up the head tube and headbadge, so all in all it did not seem appealing. For all of my needs (workbag, grocery shopping, and the occasional transport of boxes and bulky packages) the huge rear rack was sufficient.

While in possession of the Pilen, I went back and forth between riding it and my mid-'90s Gazelle, marveling at the differences between them despite their superficial similarities. While my Gazelle is a prototypically hardy Dutch bike, it seemed almost flimsy in comparison to the Pilen's visibly thicker tubing, wider tires, and overall "heavier set" looks. The Gazelle's rear rack looked downright scrawny next to the Pilen's mighty platform, and the Gazelle's handling at slow speeds was like that of a drunker sailor compared to the Pilen's unwavering stability. On the other hand, the Pilen was slower to accelerate and more effortful to push for me than my old Gazelle - an experience that seems to be a factor of my size and weight, as described here.

Compared to traditional Dutch bikes or English Roadsters, the Swedish Pilen's geometry is not quite as relaxed, and its handlebars are considerably less swept back - positioning the cyclist's hands almost straight in front of them, mountain bike-style. This makes the handling both more controlled and livelier, with the cyclist's weight more evenly distributed between the front and rear of the bike. While I like the lower positioning of the handlebars, I would prefer it if they had more sweep to them - but this is a matter of personal preference.

The thing that impressed me the most about the Pilen's ride quality, is its stability. When starting and stopping, it feels extremely sturdy and safe. I wrote earlier about all the different things people mean when they describe a bicycle as "stable," and the Pilen is pretty much all of them. It does not want to go down, no matter what - a factor that can be especially important to novices who are worried about faltering at intersections in traffic.

I also soon discovered that the Pilen handled excellently on a variety of off-road surfaces: grass, dirt, gravel paths, even narrow trails with roots and rocks. This is a very fun and safe bicycle to ride off pavement.

All in all, I have probably ridden about 100 miles on the Pilen - most of it in the form of short (< 5 mile) trips. The longest I have ridden it in the course of a single ride is 20 miles. Initially I was reluctant to take a longer trip on this bike, because of how relatively effortful it felt to accelerate. But in the course of the longer ride it "blossomed" and we developed a flow that made it faster and easier than I expected. The bike also did surprisingly well on hills, particularly if given a chance to pick up speed beforehand.

The more experience I gained with the Pilen over time, the less certain I became about how to define or explain it. A classic "swan" frame reminiscent of vintage bicycles, it really handles more like a contemporary mountain bike with upright positioning. The on/off road handling can be especially useful for those who regularly travel through pothole-ridden neighbourhoods, or for those who have access to off road trails for commuting. For those who enjoy touring on an upright bike, the Pilen could be a good candidate as well.

The one size only 56cm lady's frame is best suited for taller women, which is good news for those who have been unable to find step-through frames in larger sizes. The heavy-duty tubing and wheels are designed for carrying serious weight, which is great for heavier riders and for those regularly traveling with the bike fully loaded. No bicycle is for everyone, but I think the Pilen fills a niche that needed filling: It is a hard-core, elegant transport bike whose mountain bike-ish handling should be inherently familiar to a North American cyclist. Though I would have liked to see a full chaincase, dressguards and a dynamo-powered tail light on the Pilen, it is otherwise fully equipped for daily transportation. Having housed it outdoors for the duration of my guardianship, I can attest to the bike's resistance to the elements and its general durability: There is not a scratch on the powdercoat and the components are free of rust. 

Last month I hosted a contest to give away the Pilen to one of my readers, and the winner should be receiving the bicycle shortly. I wonder what she will think of it, and how her impressions will compare to my pragmatic and romantic musings. Many thanks once again to Will of BoxCycles for the opportunity to get to know this bicycle, and for so generously donating it to be given away. 

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The Brompton: an Extended Test Ride

About a year ago, I briefly test-rode a Brompton folding bicycle and wrote about it here. We've been toying with the idea of getting Bromptons since before I started this blog, but it just hasn't happened. For one thing, I am not all that attracted to folders. They are fascinating, but they don't excite me in a way that would make purchasing one feel like an absolute priority. On some level, I also just instinctively don't trust that a small folding bike is as versatile and convenient as some claim: Is it really a good idea to ride a tiny bike in city traffic, where you want maximum visibility? Can a bike like this possibly handle hills? And don't those small wheels make for a harsh ride? My short encounter with the bike last year was insufficient to answer these questions, so I decided to test ride it properly once and for all. Harris Cyclery kindly lent me their demo model for this purpose. I left my own bike at Harris and rode home on the Brompton, then brought it back two days later.

The model I rode was the P6L-X, which means that it is set up with "butterfly" trekking handlebars, 6 speeds, fenders but no rear rack. The "X" at the end indicates that the frame is the lightweight version - with titanium fork and rear triangle. Generally Bromptons are available either all-steel or with titanium parts, either with or without fenders and racks, with a variety of gearing options, with or without dynamo lighting, and with a choice of handlebar styles.

Here are the three styles of handlebars next to one another: the "S" type (mountain bike style straight bars), the "M" type (traditional upright bars), and the "P" type (trekking or "butterfly" bars).

I chose a model with the trekking bars, because I was worried that my hands would bother me in the limited hand positions afforded by the other styles. I have problems with the nerves in my hands that make it difficult to hold them in the straight-in-front position for more than a few minutes at a time, so I did not want to take chances on the 9 mile ride home that awaited me.

Now I know that lots of people find these trekking bars goofy, and I agree. But you know what? The Brompton is already goofy, so to my eye the bars look right at home here. Imagine replacing that expanse of foam with some nice cork tape - I think this could look great.

The gearing on the 6-speed Brompton is interesting in that it includes both a hub and a derailleur. The shifter on the right handlebar operates the 3-speed Sturmey Archer hub, while the shifter on the left operates the 2-speed derailleur.

Here is a close-up of the hub and derailleur together.

And a panned out view. Notice also the titanium rear triangle in this picture.

Titanium fork.

The crown on these forks is made in the style of the Raleigh/ Pashley fork, which looks very cute in miniature. On the all-steel models, the fork crowns look like this.

There is lots of debate among Brompton owners regarding whether the lightweight option is worth the hefty upcharge it fetches. The titanium parts reduce the weight of the bicycle by 2lb, and some claim that they also improve ride quality. Others claim that there is no difference in ride quality, and that the weight difference is negligible. Even after having tried both versions, I am unsure where I stand on this one. The online consensus appears to be that the lightweight package is not worth the price, but in person more than half of the Brompton owners I meet are sporting the titanium parts - shrugging diplomatically when questioned about its "value." Make what you will of that!

As I wrote in my previous review, everything on the Brompton is impeccably made, proprietary and adorable. The tiny fenders with tiny mudflaps are particularly endearing.

The little wheels mounted at the rear are so that the bicycle can be rolled when folded.

The staff at Harris Cyclery showed me how to fold and unfold the bike and attached a huge basket to the front, so that I could carry all of my stuff home. I first rode on the streets behind the store without the basket, just to get used to the bike. Because the Brompton is so low to the ground and has such small wheels, it initially gives the impression of being a very long bike and this took me some getting used to. It also felt "different" from normal bikes when starting from a stop: At first there was an odd sensation of momentary front end wobble when starting, so I practiced starting and stopping at intersections until it felt natural. Then I mounted the front basket and set off.

My ride home was just over 9 miles and the first half of it was on fairly busy, hilly roads, in 5pm suburban traffic. The Brompton does not handle like other bikes I am used to, but I did not find this bad or difficult to manage, just different. I soon discovered that the bike was easy to maneuver through tight spaces, and was capable of making dramatic turns gracefully and safely. I used this to my advantage when cycling through town centers in stand-still traffic. I was also pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to cycle up hill; The Brompton had a light, roadish feel to it when climbing. Cycling downhill felt stable, and the brakes were easy to control and modulate. 

There is a lot of talk about small wheeled bikes having a "harsh ride quality," so here is my take on it. When riding the Brompton, I was aware of a constant, but extremely subtle feeling of road vibration regardless of whether the road was smooth or bumpy. This sounds worse than it actually is, so let me clarify: There was no pain or sense of being "knocked about" associated with what I am describing, just a very tiny, barely perceptible "shimmy" type sensation. Interestingly, when the bicycle actually went over bumps - even sizable ones - it handled them better than the average full-sized bike. So: I am okay with the subtle shimmy if it comes with the superior ability to swallow bumps, but others might not agree. Best thing to do is to test ride the bike and see how you feel about the ride quality - but "harsh" would not be a word I'd use to describe it at all. I can imagine riding the Brompton long distances on bad roads.

The trekking handlebars were not as helpful as I had hoped in allowing for a variety of hand positions. I mostly kept my hands on the tops and occasionally on the corners. It is not possible to reach the brakes from the other positions, but moreover the other positions are not especially comfortable. I've been told by several Brompton retailers now that many customers prefer the traditional M-bar, but with bar-end attachments that will allow for a more ergonomic hand placement. 

Both the Co-Habitant and I rode the Brompton repeatedly over the course of the two days I had it on loan. My positive impressions included the high quality of the build, the smoothness over bumps, the maneuverability, the ease of mounting and dismounting (low step-over), the compact size, and the amazing load capacity. This bike is designed for enormous front bags, plus whatever the rear rack can fit - I had no idea it could carry this much stuff. And as far as aesthetics, I find the Brompton charmingly eccentric, and would be fine riding it. My favourite colour option is the raw lacquer, though I also love the new sage green. My not so positive impressions included the weight (a 20lb folding bike?), and the fact that should you not wish to drag the bike around with you everywhere, it is not so easy to lock up safely. While I know that most people are crazy about the famous Brompton fold, I am neutral about it. Maybe I'm just being difficult, but I don't get the miracle there: Okay, so it folds... Isn't that the whole point of a folding bike? But I am only partly serious and I do understand that it folds better than the other folders out there. It is a neat design that is especially conducive for travel - which is precisely why we are considering it.

In reality, our biggest problem with buying Bromptons is that in the course of choosing all the options we'd want (good lighting, 6-speed gearing, fenders, racks, extras) the bikes transform from what initially promises to be reasonably priced to something entirely unaffordable. Depending on the components and options selected, a Brompton can easily double or even nearly triple in cost, so that is something to keep in mind. Is it worth it? That depends on how much you want or need a folding bike. And among folding bikes, the Brompton is widely acknowledged to be "the best." Thank you to Harris Cyclery, in West Newton, MA, for this extended test ride.

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