Bikes Ancient & Modern

Well, the 'retro' bike GB has been working on is finally finished. I say retro but 'old' would be more accurate: the bike in question is (was) a 1996 - or there abouts - Tange Cro-mo skinny-tubed full-rigid Claude Butler which came kitted out with grip-shift, bar-ends and cantis. Resplendant in metalic carribean blue paintwork its rigid steel forks were swiftly (and ill-advisedly) replaced with 'suspension' in the shape of black RST 281's - which added little bar weight. As an aside, these elastomer (foam filled) brutes are a dire warning not to jump on new technological band-wagons prematurely, as at this point in the history of mountainbiking, for the man-on-the-street, suspension was more of a handicap, killing the bike's handling and angles!

The skinny 20" frame proved oddly capable, compliant and easy riding, but was soon replaced by a 'propper' bike courtesy of Kona (again, possibly prematurely) and became relegated to commuting duties, before being given a new lease of life as a singlespeed (when these were first in vogue) when the cruddy 7 speed componentry died.

Lighter, nimbler, and equipped with Specialized low-profile tyres, Raceface stem and 'upgraded' (ha!) with Kona P2 rigid forks, the old girl did stirling work as a nature reserve pootler, pub bike and kid-seat friendly child transporter (though I do blame her for my never-quite-right lower back after an attempt at ascending to Hollin's Cross with no gears).

Yet as the stable grew fuller, the old Claud's day's were numbered, and the old steel machine was donated to GB to be rebuilt for a lad who had no bike.

Fate conspired against the old steel machine, however. She languished at GB's bike shop, forgotten and ultimately doomed until rediscovered, by chance in a skip, and retrieved to gather rust outside the Alladin's cave of retro parts which is his shed.

"I did manage to empty plenty of water out of it," GB noted as he discussed the referb project, 5 mil in hand, squinting with an expert eye at the stem/top-tube alignment.

Reborn, it's clear the bike is a labour of love. Resplendant in 'motorway sign blue' paintwork, its obvious the sand-blasters and re-sprayers have worked their magic; a thick glossy coat of protective paint hiding the ample rust encrusting the chain stays and BB area. The scratches on the ice-grey P2 forks only add charachter and the hand-crafted (and lovingly selected c.1996) componentry (think Alivio and the long-dead STX-RC groupset) make this look like it's just rolled off the show room floor in the mid 90's.

Its got all the mountings for cantis, but GB has opted for V's "which work more than capably in the dry" and give any bike a respectable level of stopping power, for after all, this is still a bike intended to me ridden on local trails. Silver of course. There's barely a trace of black componentry (save for the front mech mounting), for every part has been lovingly researched, sourced and assembled to look dated.

No joke, I keep seeing it from different angles and thinking I'm looking at a fifteen year old review in MBUK, serious old-school hot metal; blue and chrome like some 50's hot rod. The repro 1995 Kona lavadome graphics are what make it. So it's a feux Kona - so what!

"It has the sloping top-tube, and rides like a Kona," GB says in a matter-of-fact tone, but he has no need to defend his carefully researched choice. It always did ride well. This bike is no piece of instalation art - boy can it still move!

My finest ever bike memory is of descending from Mam Tor in the olden days with 2" of none-working travel and V-brakes and feeling (in a way I never have since) utterly in the zone. I probably wasn't going that fast, or styling it that much, but to me, I was in total control: the skinny 20" steel machine was mine to control and I could pick it up and put it exactly where I wanted like it was a part of me.

So fast forward a fair few years. How does the now Feux Kona compare to a modern hardtail?

Stay tuned and you'll find out soon...