Peter Henshaw

Oh dear, the Bickerton lives on. A long aluminium tube surmounted by some wobbly looking handlebars – it’s all horribly familiar. Actually, the iXi looks a lot more elegant than any Bickerton ever was. But I ask you, belt drive! I have memories of an early belt-drive Birdy of almost legendary inefficiency. ‘Like cycling through treacle,’ was one of the kinder verdicts on this ‘clean, grease-free’ system. And why does the iXi split in half instead of folding down properly? The ‘impact resistant’ drinks holder looks very swish, but will your tea be impact resistant too? The in-frame storage could be handy if you need to carry a banana. And here’s the punchline: £999 for the split-apart version, with not much change from £1,200 if you specify the optional lights, luggage, mudguards and key fob. Still, the website is very nice.

VERDICT – MISS

Gary Lovell

…carefully thought out, but they used all the wrong thoughts…

For – step-thru frame, carrying handle and front disk brake (no rim wear). Against – heavy aluminium frame with no rear suspension and 100 psi balloon tyres, which must give a harsh bumpy ride.The bike does not fold, but separates (eventually) into too many unmanageable bits. And quick releases everywhere mean any of these parts can be stolen by passing criminals.

The oil-free belt drive is nice, but this system will give no positive feel. It needs a chain fully enclosed in a lightweight chaincase (this would be possible, because the rear end does not fold).There aren’t enough gears either (five or six hub gears should be the minimum), and the back-pedalling coaster brake is not up to busy stop-go urban commuter traffic in my opinion.

Surprisingly on such an expensive bike, there are no mudguards or lights as standard, and the basket system – although adequate – seems to have to stay on the bike once fitted. It looks as though it would seriously inhibit the separation of the bike for storage. The price is outrageous – £1,130 as I would equip it. I would expect to pay nearer £380 for this sort of machine.

This bike has been very carefully thought out, but they used all the wrong thoughts. I’m confused as to what it is actually for. I can only think it is suitable as a very short-haul shopping bike.

VERDICT – MISS

Specification

iXi Breakaway UK £999 (plus £40 p&p) . USA $1,289 (plus shipping) .Weight (claimed) 12.3kg (27lb) Folded dimensions (claimed) 91cm x 61cm x 38cm . Folded volume(estimated) 211 litres (7.5 cu ft) . Gear system Nexus 4-spd hub (with belt drive) . Gear Ratios (estimated) 49″ – 91″ Manufacturer Delta Cycle Corp. tel +1 800 474 6615 mail customerservice@ixibike.com

Ever get that feeling that the world has become a fast moving and confusing place? Take the world of folding bikes, for example. Not long ago, the Brompton was compact, the Bike Friday was sporty, the Dahon was cheap and cheerful, and almost everything else from the Far East was utter rubbish. In time-honoured fashion, you knew where you were.

Brompton and Bike Friday are still very much with us of course, but badges that were once the butt of innumerable folding bike jokes are fast becoming respectable.We noted the same process in the last issue with the very presentable Ezee electric bikes, and now folder manufacturers are moving the same way.The truth is that the Chinese in particular have done a lot of catching up in a remarkably short space of time. Initially spearheaded by the US and European-inspired Dahon brand, a revolution is underway.

…the Victor 1.0 looks like a Dahon, or – dare we suggest – a Bike Friday…

Oyama

Oyama will be best known to A to B subscribers for copying the Brompton, launching the rather absurd Space Genie on an unsuspecting public in February 2002.We were less than complimentary to the Space Genie then, and laughed all over again the following year, when this and other Oyama bikes were adopted by US distributor Breezer.The Space Genie was an over-priced and ill-conceived attempt to cash in on the success of the Brompton and that – so the orthodoxy went in those far off days – was the best that Chinese and Taiwanese engineers could achieve.

Then in August this year, we discovered a new Oyama bike, and were intrigued.The Victor 1.0 looks like a Dahon Speed, or even – dare we suggest – a Bike Friday, with an aggressively raked monotube frame, straight bars and sporty bar-ends, but it was to be launched at a price of £350 – half the cost of a comparable Dahon and, for all the comparison is worth, a quarter of the price of a Bike Friday.

‘Ah yes’, the experienced folding bike watcher will say, ‘but the Oyama has a wobbly steel frame, crude 5-speed derailleur and weighs 15kg plus’. Not so.To save the bar-room pundits further embarrassment, we can reveal that they are entirely wrong.The Victor has a rigid alloy frame, 406mm (20-inch) wheels, all- up weight of a shade over 12kg, 8-speed Shimano Acera derailleur and numerous other light and delicately crafted bits. Folding bikes traditionally cost 25% to 100% more than their non-folding cousins, but the Victor 1.0 seems to break all the rules – can it really be this good?

The Victor

First impressions are positive.The Victor has clean lines (marred only slightly by a stem raked forward a little too steeply), deeply lustrous metallic paintwork (blue or red) and some snazzy graphics. Just about everything else is either sexy matt black or polished alloy.The frame, handlebars, saddle stem and (daringly) forks are made from aluminium, as are sundry other bits. In fact, the only substantial chunk of steel is the lower stem, and we’re not sure that is strictly necessary, of which more below. Interestingly, the spokes are made from something non-magnetic, which usually means stainless steel, but in this case they’re painted black. Something left over from the Chinese space programme perhaps? Who knows.

…the Victor is a real whopper… high enough to give shorter folk vertigo…

It’s a measure of how things have changed that a bike assembled from Chinese bits can look and feel so good: the Alex alloy rims are nicely machined, the Velo Crossflow saddle is leather (or, perhaps, leatherette), and the Xerama folding pedals (similar, but neater than the better-known VP117) look suitably chunky.

Like us, you may not be familiar with UNO Dimensions bar-ends, HA Speedwheel chainrings, or Chosen hubs, but don’t worry too much – they’re smart-looking and apparently serviceable Chinese facsimiles of quite nice bits and pieces from elsewhere.

A brief spin tells you a little more. Like all mid-range Shimano derailleurs, the Acera changes nice and crisply, with an occasional mild crunch, and the bike goes as well as it looks. But it’s designed for giants.The Chinese certainly seem to have taken on board the early European criticism of their tiny machines, because the Victor is a real whopper.The saddle goes up to a healthy 100cm (a shade more at a pinch), and the bars start at 100cm and climb to 119cm, which is high enough to give shorter folk a degree of vertigo. Oyama really could have saved itself a lot of weight and bother, as Dahon has done on most of its new designs, by eliminating the telescopic handlebar stem altogether, because hardly anyone will make much use of it.

More of a problem is the saddle to bar ‘reach’ which some find quite a stretch.We have a fondness for rather upright bikes at A to B, and immediately put the saddle as far forward as it would go, but still felt like children on the Victor. Larger and more wirily-framed persons, particularly those used to drop handlebars, will be delighted.

Cover a reasonable mileage and you may find yourself grumbling about the saddle, but you can say that about almost any non-recumbent bicycle. Otherwise, the 30″ – 87″ gear range deals with most things.The 32-406mm Kenda tyres are fast-looking, which is half the battle, and inflate to a reasonable 65psi, all of which you’ll need at the rear, unless you’re quite light. At 14.2mph, the roll-down speed on our test hill proved more or less average for this tyre size.The weather was a bit autumnal and the rear hub bearings a little tight, so the Kendas could probably do better on a good day.

The unbranded V-brakes are excellent – quiet, progressive and effective, with power limiters both front and rear.We achieved best stops of .59G from the front, .38G from the rear (with the wheel locked), and a joint effort of .75G without any really scary stuff going on. If you take an interest in this sort of thing, you’ll appreciate that figures like these are more or less state of the art. Generally speaking, the feel of this bike, in terms of acceleration, cornering and braking, is impressively similar to something costing a great deal more.

Accessories

Make no mistake, at this end of the market, the Victor is a well-equipped bike. Mudguards are of the stubby bendy-plastic variety, and look trendy, but perform reasonably well in light rain; the stand does what it’s supposed to; and there are mounting points for a rack and/or proper mudguards should you feel so inclined. Everything feels well set up, and works straight out of the box, except for the bar-ends, which are delivered pointing downwards, but you’d probably want to adjust them for comfort anyway.

Folding

A reasonable folded package

Not ‘alf bad, actually. If they’re not already down, you’ll need to drop the handlebars to their lowest position, then fold them using the stem catch, and carefully fold the frame in half, sandwiching the bars.We choose words with care, because the right-hand bar-end (remember, the bike was delivered with them pointing down) comes very close to snagging on the cables as you fold the bike.To complete the fold, the saddle stem drops with a quick release, and the Xerama pedals fold in (only the right-hand pedal in practice). All being well, the bike comes together in a reasonably compact fashion, measuring 44cm across, 83.5cm long, and 63cm tall.That’s a folded volume of 231 litres or eight cubic feet – not strikingly compact, but typical for a 20-inch machine. Whip out the saddle stem and the height comes down to 57cm, reducing the volume to 209 litres or 7.5 cubic feet.

The chunky mainframe hinge is nicely engineered

Folding can do horrible things to paintwork, and the Victor is vulnerable in this respect, the metallic finish being protected by a thin and rather brittle high gloss lacquer coat. A few weeks knocking about on station platforms and in and out of car boots would play havoc with the beautiful finish, but then you can’t have everything for £350.

…in terms of spec, the Victor is streets ahead of anything else in the £350 zone…

The stem hinge may prove to be a weak spot.The pivots tend to twist in the bracket, loosening the hinge

There are no clips to hold the bike in its folded form, but in that respect the Victor is no better or worse than most other 20-inch bikes.The hinges themselves are a mixed bag.The frame hinge is substantially engineered and more or less fail-safe.The stem hinge is equally well-crafted, but the latch is a bit dodgy-looking and we’re concerned that after a bit of use, it might develop enough play to separate. Hard riding put some movement into our handlebars after only a few miles.This is easy to adjust out, but it’s a problem that will return if you habitually pull hard on the bars. If Oyama is listening, this needs re-engineering. If you’re buying one, don’t worry unduly – we’ve seen worse on bikes costing three times as much. Just keep it in mind and watch for movement.

Conclusion

In an effort to gauge what value for money really means in this strange new world, it might be constructive to compare the Victor with the Trek 600 we tried back in April 2004. OK, the Trek has a trendy US badge, but it’s basically engineered by Dahon, whereas the Victor has no obvious track record. Both bikes have 20-inch wheels, both weigh within a shade of 12kg, both have a gear range of around 32″ to 90″, although the Trek has nine, rather than eight gears. Folding is broadly similar, but the lack of bar-ends and mudguards allow the Trek to make a slightly smaller package.They’re both suited to larger people too.

Differences? The Trek is almost certainly stronger, particularly around the hinges, but the Victor is better equipped elsewhere, and dynamically speaking, the bikes do much the same thing.The only serious difference is in price – £350 for the Victor and £750 for the Trek. Not being particularly badge- orientated, we wouldn’t hesitate in picking the new Oyama. Never thought we’d say that.

In terms of spec, the Victor is streets ahead of anything else in that £350 zone.Would you seriously choose a Pashley Fold-it, Di Blasi, or Strida over a bike like this? The Victor even succeeds in putting pressure on mid-range Dahons and Dahon-clones in the £500 – £700 region, which is quite some feat.

If you’re looking for a smart-looking, fun, sporty folder, and pennies count, go Victor. It might not be up to Iron Man Triathlon events, but it looks as if it might.You really are getting quite a nice little bike for the money.

Specification

Oyama Victor 1.0 £350 .Weight 12.1kg (27lb) . Gears Shimano Acera 8-spd . Ratios 33″ – 90″ Folded Dimensions W44cm H63cm L83.5cm . Folded Volume 231 litres (8 cu ft) . Folded Dimensions (saddle stem removed) W44cm H57cm L83.5cm . Folded Volume (saddle stem removed) 209 litres (7.5 cu ft) . Manufacturer Oyama Industrial Company Ltd web www.oyama.com UK Distributor Mission Cycles tel 01622 815615 mail info@missioncycles.co.uk

I used to ride a bicycle up to 12,000 miles a year – now I would just fall off. I have developed a balance problem and so decided to try a trike. Now, everyone says that trikes are for people with balance problems, but I tried one with two wheels at the back and could not move! Most roads have camber and with two wheels at the back on a slope, you are sitting at an angle and my ears kept telling me that I was falling. So I then tried a trike with two wheels at the front, which was much better, because my eyes could see that both wheels were on the road, passing the message to my brain that we were not, in fact, tipping over.

So I bought a new Newton trike with 700C wheels. It seemed a great idea and the answer to my problem, but it soon left me very annoyed, as it had lots of faults.These ranged from an unfinished braze, through to brakes that jammed on all the time, with lots of problems in between. It was pretty unrideable. I took it to St John Street Cycles in Bridgwater and they eventually spent eight months re-designing and rebuilding the whole front end, producing the superb machine I now own and enjoy.

…Stephen Parry secretly converted a Brompton into a trike for me…

Without Wheels

Not the smallest folding package in the world, but tiny by trike standards

Meanwhile, I was without wheels, so Stephen Parry, designer of the SP Brompton and a friend, secretly converted a Brompton into a two wheels at the front trike for me. He turned up one day with a big smile on his face and asked my husband and myself to visit his workshop as he had something to show us. Initially he was concerned about whether it would be stable enough, but it was fine. I took it for a ride, but was gone for so long that Stephen and my husband got worried, as they thought I may have fallen off. No, I was just enjoying riding the unusual trike and having a wonderful time!

The trike has the usual Brompton 3-speed hub, plus a double chain ring, giving six gears.V-brakes on the front are operated by a twin-cable lever, backed up by the standard rear brake.

The frame folds like any other Brompton and the handlebars fold down onto the top tube. Not super- compact, but easy enough to get into the house for storage – most trikes are such big beasts that it’s impossible to get one through the front door.This one even fits in the back of a car. Folded dimensions are approximately 92cm x 92cm x 66cm high. [558 litres or 20 cubic feet. Eds]

Far Superior

I have now done well over 600 miles on the SP Brompton Trike. My usual route is 26 miles including a 1:6 hill and I rode this route about twice a week for many months. I did manage the hill, but found it difficult with such limited gearing. I considered asking Stephen to put more gears in, but by then, SJS Cycles had rebuilt my Newton trike and as that had 24 gears and a more traditional (less upright) riding position, it was better suited to the longer rides that I wished to do.

One very noticeable difference between the two trikes, was that the SP Brompton, which really was a prototype, was far superior in build quality and functionality (it worked!) to the production Newton trike. But having now spent a total of £3,000 on the Newton, I have decided to keep it, as it is better for longer distances.

The SP Brompton Trike obviously cost money too, although it was only about half the cost of the Newton. I would give it excellent marks for build quality, functionality and foldability/versatility.The only comment I would make, is that if you are going to use it regularly up steep hills, you would want more gears.

Steve Parry, SP Bicycles . tel 01934 516158 . mail spbicycles@btopenworld.com

In a world where Dahon now produces the lightest folders and Oyama can sell a reasonable sports machine for just £350, you’d think the traditional Western manufacturers – Brompton, Birdy and Bike Friday – would be watching their backs. No doubt they are, and we know new products are under development, but the ‘old world’ bikes are starting to look a little jaded.

Why should anyone bother buying a heavier and much more expensive product from Europe or the USA when the Chinese are making similar things for a third of the price? That all depends on what the pricier bikes have to offer.The Brompton is still unbeatably compact and the Bike Friday and Airnimal provide a quality ‘big bike’ feel that would be hard to match, but what of the Birdy? We’ll run through the pros and cons of spending £1,250 on a bike that’s essentially unchanged, after a production run of ten years or so.

Birdy Black

For those unfamiliar with the genre, the Birdy was launched in late 1994 as a competitor to the already long-established Brompton. Designed and marketed by Riese & Müller in Germany, the bikes are manufactured by Pacific in Taiwan – hardly a cut- price producer these days, of course, so all those sea-miles and middle-men add what economists laughingly call ‘value’.To buy our Birdy Black, with a few modest accessories, would cost the innocent consumer no less than £1,323.

Birdy front coil spring and polymer suspension - the whole lot hinges round and back when folded

The Birdy frame is of chunkily-crafted aluminium throughout, and almost everything hung off it is light alloy too, with the exception of nuts and bolts, saddle rails, and a few other bits. It might come as something of a surprise then, to find that our test bike weighs 11.7kg (25.8lb) – almost as much as the Oyama featured on page 20. Admittedly, the Black is fitted with the optional rear rack and mudguards, but it’s also a relatively expensive model and generally considered to be the lightest in the range. By way of comparison, the much cheaper (well, £830) Birdy Red weighed 12kg when we tested it back in December 1999 with much the same accessory pack.The Black weighs a little less than the similarly equipped Brompton ‘T’ type, and probably a little more than a Bike Friday built to this sort of spec. Obviously, it’s no heavyweight, but it wins no special awards in the weight department either.

On the road, the bars are very low, a feature you will either love or hate. More comfortable riding upright bikes, we hated it, but anyone familiar with drop bars and head-down white line chasing will feel right at home. Birdy does offer a taller, height-adjustable ‘comfort’ stem as an option, but it adds weight, cost and folding complication, so if you really don’t like the ‘bum in the air’ position, a Birdy probably isn’t for you. On the other hand, the bike has many loyal converts – mostly occasional rail users who simply can’t live with the more upright Brompton.We suspect you will know very quickly whether the Birdy is for you.

Specification

One of the reasons for the Birdy’s loyal following is the suspension – arguably the cleverest and most effective system fitted to any folding bike. It’s pretty conventional at the rear, with a pivot down by the bottom bracket and polymer suspension bungee, but in place of conventional forks at the front, the Birdy has an odd-looking swinging arm and combined bungee/steel coil spring apparently better than Deore, but arrangement.This suspension is ‘anti-dive’ (unlike suspension forks, the front of the we’re not competent to judge…” bike won’t dip down under braking), but compliant enough to absorb lumps, bumps and even climb small kerbs.

The result of all this sophistication is a smooth ride (we suggest choosing the softest ‘yellow’ rear polymer of the three options) and quite a lot of weight and complication. The rigid frame and compliant suspension make fast cornering safe and secure, although the front end of the bike feels a bit light and lacking in directional stability.This may be entirely a matter of personal preference, but for carrying a long heavy object under your arm, as one does, we prefer the more upright Brompton which puts less weight on your arms. Similarly with hand signals – you may disagree, but we find the Brompton a little less jittery riding one-handed.

Gears vary across the Birdy range, from the cheaper 8-speed Shimano Deore on the Red to £700 worth of 14-speed Rohloff hub on the Grey. Our Black has Deore XT, which is apparently better than Deore, but we’re not competent enough to judge. It all seems to work well enough, giving a slightly low gear range of 30″ – 87″ and a nice reliable change, once you’ve mastered the space-age Meg-9 shifter, which has one lever to go up and another very similar one to go down.The Black is also fitted with Shimano 105 ‘Hollowform’ bottom-bracket and cranks, which are claimed to be stiff yet light, something that, once again, we can’t verify.

Brakes are Avid, which will either make you jump up and down with excitement or not, according to taste.They certainly work well enough, but the Birdy’s rather short 101cm wheelbase makes the bike a bit ‘tail-light’ under braking, reducing the effectiveness of the rear brake. Using our high-tech G-force meter, the best stop proved to be only .34G before the wheel locked up.The front brake works well, provided you have the strength to give it a mighty heave.We managed reliable stops in the region of .6G and even saw .66G on one occasion, but thanks to the short wheelbase and extreme difference in lever pressure required, it’s difficult to improve on this with both brakes. In fact, we never saw .66G again.

Tyre Problems

A nasty bulge. Modern high pressure tyres really shouldn’t do this sort of thing

Riese & Müller has had its share of tyre problems over the years. The 355mm tyres fitted to the Birdy are designated 18-inch, but are actually about 17-inches in diameter, so only marginally bigger than Brompton’s nominally 16-inch 347mm tyre (see Letters, page 14 for more). With such small tyres, the odd millimetre here and there really does matter, but the 18-inch size has always been let down by poor quality.Things have improved a bit – you can now buy a Schwalbe Marathon in this size (not that we rate the Marathon particularly highly), but the bikes are shod as standard with R&M’s own tyre, produced by Maxxis. These look great, but they’re heavy (400g apiece) and distinctly ‘old- tech’ in design.This all conspires to make the Birdy feel more slothful than it looks. On this occasion our Birdy Black failed to complete the roll-down test (see below), but when we last tried a roll-down test with the Maxxis, the bike managed only 11.7mph, which is about as bad as it gets.To put that in perspective, early Bromptons and Bickertons, with historic Raleigh Record tyres, rolled further and faster.The Birdy really does deserve better. More positively, the Birdy is a great convertor of pedal energy into forward motion, so rolling resistance is less significant than it might be.

 …The tyre began to distort… bulging far enough to stop the wheel rotating…

The serious stuff involves tyres exploding off the rims, due to poor tolerances. Soon after we inflated our front tyre beyond a modest 60psi (they’re rated at 90psi), the tyre began to distort and lift off the rim, bulging far enough to stop the wheel rotating. Had someone been riding at speed, the result would almost certainly have been an unpleasant over-handlebar incident. Even worse, after releasing the air and repositioning the tyre, we found it had developed a permanent set, so we had to complete our test very gingerly, with less than 30psi in the front tyre to keep the bulge at bay.

We’ve checked with a cross-section of Birdy owners on the A to B database and five have experienced similar failures – four in Germany and one in the UK. Some mentioned the opposite problem; tyres that were too tight on the rims. But loose or tight, we would expect better quality control on a bicycle costing well into four figures. Until it’s fixed, our advice is to limit pressure to 50 or 60psi.

Equipment

The latest Birdy rack is suspended on struts linked to the rear frame. When folding, this pulls the rack down, producing a neat package

The list of options is quite long, but we’ll try to keep it simple. Our bike came with mudguards, a side stand and the latest rear rack. Birdy racks seem to change with the seasons – we think we’ve seen three distinct designs over the years.The latest SL rack is darned clever, suspended on a sort of cantilever, which allows it to hinge down as the wheel folds away, a la Brompton. Unlike the Brompton, the rack doesn’t end up quite under the bike, but it goes far enough for the bike to stand on two little rollers in a part-folded ‘parked’ position. For £36 (if originally equipped), the rack is an extremely useful accessory.

Mudguards have improved a great deal too. Once a flippy-floppy afterthought, the Birdy can now be said to have proper mudguards for an extra £22, sensibly mounted and protected from scuffing by little plastic pads. Our bike was also equipped with a stand, although we’re not sure how useful this is in practice, and don’t forget the extra weight – odd grams here and there can be critical on a folding bike.

Other options include Lowrider clips to fit panniers either side of the front wheel (a neat idea at £29), Expedition Carrier (at £53, a pricey way of fitting rear panniers), lights (dynamo or battery), Pump (should be standard, surely?), Frame Bag (£25 – an expensive way of carrying a toothbrush), and three cover options.The £29 Cover, like the Brompton cover, really only disguises the bike, but for more serious travel, you can specify a Bag for £70, or hard-sided Suitcase at £180.

Folding

The Birdy is a distinctly odd bike to fold, and if you get it wrong you can end up mud wrestling with chains, tyres and other grubby things, while the mudguards get scraped and bashed, hence the plastic pads. Now, we know some people find it easy, but despite being reasonably adept with Dahons, Bike Fridays, Bromptons and Micros, we usually get in a grubby tangle with the Birdy. Our primary problem comes right at the start, because it’s essential to put the left-hand pedal in the down position and the bike in a high gear. Most folding bikes prefer the pedals to be broadly in the right place, but with this Birdy/Brompton style ‘compound’ fold, derailleur gears can cause problems.The Brompton, Birdy Green and Birdy Grey have hub gears, which are fine, but the other Birdys are derailleur. Sorry, but we just could not get used to this. It’s a damn nuisance.

The rear frame unclips, folding down and round, to end up beside the frame, locked in place by the descending seat post.Then the front wheel and unclipped front suspension rotates round and lock into place behind the headset. Unlike the ‘loose’ Brompton rear wheel, both wheels on the Birdy must be unclipped before folding, which is either an advantage or a hindrance, depending on your point of view. Pedals are of a conventional non-folding design, but the folded package is so wide, they do not protrude.

On this occasion, we produced a package measuring 82cm long, 63cm tall and 40cm wide, giving a folded volume of 207 litres or 7.4 cubic feet, which seems pretty typical on past performance.To be honest, it’s a bit disappointing, and broadly similar to much simpler 20-inch designs, such as the Dahon.The other disappointment is that it’s very difficult to fold a Birdy without getting your hands dirty, because there’s really no escape from grappling with the tyres and other grubby bits. Again, you may profoundly disagree, but we think this rules the bike out for the smarter sort of person with nice shapely nails, which is a PC way of saying women and the more effete sort of gentleman.We may be wrong – do let us know.

Conclusion

As we saw in the the last issue with the Dahon Helios SL and in this issue with the Oyama Victor, the mainstream folding bike manufacturers cannot afford to be complacent, because there are some excellent designs starting to arrive from the Far East at extremely competitive prices.

On paper, the Birdy Black, more than most, is in big trouble. It has the sort of price tag that could give elderly Cyclist Touring Club types a heart attack, yet it’s relatively heavy, difficult to fold, and it produces a big cumbersome package.We’re sometimes accused of favouring the Brompton, but (sigh) it really does fold much smaller, much quicker, and the process is generally oil-free. And we could add that a Brompton doesn’t usually try to fling off its front tyre. On the road, the jury is more split, with a sizable minority favouring the Birdy, but the new Mezzo (see News) is likely to take sales here too, and it costs half the price.

As mentioned somewhere or other above, you will know if you are a Birdy person, but if you aren’t you would be well advised to keep that £1,250 (£1,323 in this case) safely in the bank. For commuters, a Brompton or Mezzo is less than half the price, and for leisure riders and tourists making occasional use of public transport, a custom Bike Friday will (or should) fit like a glove and give years of pleasure for about the same price. If you have been seduced by the Birdy’s undoubted qualities, we’d suggest starting with the Red, which is almost as good as the Black, but leaves you with £400 in your wallet.

Specification

Birdy Black £1,250 . Weight (as tested) 11.7kg (25.7lb) . Folded size W40cm H63cm L82cm Folded volume 207 litres (7.4cu ft) . Gears Shimano Deore XT 9-spd derailleur .Ratios 30″- 87″ Manufacturer Riese & Müller web www.r-m.de mail team@r-m.de tel +49 6151 366860

This story comes from a land where the notion of a folding bicycle is practically unknown, and it has a happy ending:There is a Brompton dealer in Tel-Aviv, as of March 2004, called Ilan’s Bikes, and the shop is within walking distance from where I live. Actually, Ilan (a Brompton owner himself) was cautious about the enterprise. He said let’s wait and see if people do order…

My folder affair began some three years ago, owing mainly to the emerging Israeli train system and the development of the seafront shared-use promenade and Yarkon riverside park.Tel- Aviv is one of the few cities of its magnitude in the world that exists without an underground rail system.

From the days of the Turks and then the British, a railway line followed the coastal plain from Lebanon through Haifa,Tel- Aviv and Gaza, with side routes from Haifa through the plain of Esdraelon to Syria and from Tel- Aviv through Lod and Ramla (a Turkish-built administrative centre) to Jerusalem. After the British left, the system fell into decay – the ‘valley train’ to Lebanon was abandoned, and although the train to Jerusalem survived, it climbed the 700 metre ascent so slowly that it was practically useless.

…I scanned the internet for ‘folding bicycle’… the future turned out to be here already…

The renaissance started five years ago. New stations began to appear in the greater Tel-Aviv and Haifa areas – first Ha-Shalom, then Ha’Hagana near the new central bus station (holding the dubious record of being the biggest bus station in the world, but also one that neither the citizens nor the bus operators needed – aka the Tel-Aviv White Elephant), and University (near the exhibition centre). New suburban rail lines followed, many of the stations being built in the middle of nowhere, but near shopping malls, a policy that, surprisingly, has proved quite successful.The eastern suburban line, leading from the university to Bene Braq (actually, the Ayalon Mall), the Segula mall, Rosh Ha’ain (near an industrial park) and Kefar Sava has been running successfully for two to three years.The newer Rishon Lezion line has been less successful, due to its bad location. More ambitious plans include a completely new line to Jerusalem, and there are proposals to extend this railway as far south as Eilat on the Red Sea.

Cycle Paths

At about the same time as the train improvements, they also paved a contiguous road through the Yarqon river park, which was later joined to the seafront promenade, giving me an off-road route almost all the way to work.With these ground breaking developments, the time was ripe for a folding bicycle.

This was pure inspiration. Actually, I never saw one. (Later I was to learn that there where some half a dozen Bromptons and a score of 16-inch Dahons in Israel, but I had never witnessed any of them.) I recalled seeing in the Discovery Channel’s Tomorrow’s World a part on folding bikes, with this guy halting in front of a supermarket, folding the bike and then proceeding to use it as a supermarket trolley (well, sadly enough, you can’t do this with a Brompton!). So, I scanned the internet for ‘folding bicycle’. Surprisingly, the future turned out to be here already.There was plenty of material, mainly from Britain, including ads and a couple of comparison articles (from A to B magazine, I guess).

The name Brompton came up regularly, as the commonly- accepted standard commuter for my distance hauls, allegedly offering acceptable riding experience and folding small; much more expensive than I had in mind, but still affordable. Other models seemed to be either cheaper but inferior or forbiddingly expensive science fiction pieces. It so happened that I was scheduled to spend a week in London on business at the time, so I made my mind to return home with one.Then, the trip was cancelled at the last moment. Frustrated, I compensated myself by ordering the bike by mail, ignoring the extra cost (from Avon Valley, including the suggested A to B subscription, whatever that meant – let it be!). I agreed to compromise on the colour, so the bike came after a few days in a big carton. I unpacked the contents and learnt from the manual how to fold and unfold it.The next day, we started the on board a train is strictly work schedule we’ve maintained ever since: the bike forbidden here…” carrying me to work and me carrying it upstairs.

Some improvements were called for, though. I upgraded the original three-speed gearing – being too little and too high – to six-speed reduced gearing, which has been doing the job right. Surprisingly, on small wheels one needs fewer speeds to be comfortable. And I always ride with feet firmly strapped to pedals, by either toe-clips or cleats. Being tied to the pedals makes for efficient pedalling, making it practical to ride on rough surfaces and climb steep inclines, such as the infamous Wooden Bridge illustrated, in the park en route to work.

I insisted upon a rack (in addition to the very practical front bag). In no way does it interfere with train commuting; on the contrary, the additional pair of small rubber wheels (which I replaced with bigger ones from an old cabinet!) makes it practical to tow the folded bike on smooth surfaces over medium distances, as in train stations and malls. You hold the folded package with four fingers by the saddle, lifting it a little. (The practicality of this position may depend upon one’s height, though). Needless to say, the original saddle was quickly torn in the process, which turned out for the good – got me a Brooks saddle instead, which is superior for both sitting and towing.

My normal route to work does not start from a station on the map. I live close to the beach, exactly 3.5 km from Hagana station, three from Hashalom station, 3.5 from Central station and six from University. Getting to any of these by public transport in the morning would take around 30 minutes, but getting to Hagana by bike, including folding, takes 13 minutes. Usually I take the long (and pastoral) 10km route – gliding down General Allenby street to the beach, along the seafront and through the riverside park to work, which is near Bene Braq station.When I want to take the short, noisy and polluted 7km route, I climb a few metres up Allenby and glide down King George the 5th Street into the city. Obviously, the British did leave some traces behind…

The railway can be useful too. A nice train station has been built in an industrial park I used to visit on business errands quite often, some 90 kilometres from home, and which – though located on a main road – was virtually unreachable by the bus system.

Carrying bicycles on board a train is strictly forbidden here.The regulations do not mention folding bikes, but I have been delayed only twice (and released after a short inquiry) by overzealous conductors.Thorough baggage checking is routine here on entrance to train stations and other buildings. So, arriving at the gate with the folded and covered package may cause unnecessary delay. (‘What is inside?’ ‘A folded bicycle.’ ‘What?’) On the other hand, once in the station, the folded bike had better look like an ordinary bag, just in case the conductor gets over-excited.The trick is to glide nonchalantly up to within a few metres of the security officers to catch their attention (but not too close to become an annoyance), spend 20 seconds laboriously folding the bike and covering it, then march to the guard saying ‘it’s the bike, remember?’

… The police were already on their their way… the ‘suspicious bag’ was my innocent bicycle…

The bicycle cover is handy once boarding, as shown by the following anecdote, (incidentally demonstrating how little known the concept of a folding bicycle is here). In the Jerusalem central bus station, I once left the folded bike, in its thin default cover, in the line for a bus, asked someone to watch it and left for the toilet.When I returned, the safe keeper was gone and a crowd had gathered at a safe distance. As I approached, I was signalled to keep away from the suspicious bag.The police were already on their way.The ‘suspicious bag’ was, of course, my innocent bicycle, albeit thinly covered, with the rack and rear lights clearly protruding from below. Even as I took it by the hand, I was advised never to leave my ‘bag’ this way again.Then, the bike went aboard the bus’s baggage area, and remained an anonymous bag all the way to Tel-Aviv.

Living in no-folder-land is by means bad. People respond well to the idea as soon as they see it. Positive comments on the practicality of the technology are common. However, they find it harder to accept the price.These people can appreciate why they should pay over $2000 for a full-suspension MTB, weekend mountain biking being a widespread sport here. However, they find it harder to appreciate the price for something that delivers the first impression of a child’s machine. (The 16-inch revolution of the 1960s has never reached these parts).

Let us hope that this situation changes, because Israel – especially the coastal plain – is ideal territory for folding bikes. Infrastructure is getting better: the rail network is developing, two underground lines are planned (on paper at least) and sporadically, bicycle tracks make an appearance (leading from nowhere to nowhere, but sure, it’s a start). Oh, and Ilan is reporting some folding bike sales.

For some time we’ve been predicting that the winners and losers from the next generation of folding bikes will be judged in terms of weight. On a conventional bike, light weight is little more than a good talking point, but a folder has to be carryable. We’ve lost count of the strapping great fellows who’ve told us they can’t understand our enthusiasm for lightweight folders. And if you too can run the length of Clapham Junction with a 15kg bike, or heave it over the sill of a car boot, you won’t really be interested either. For the rest of us, lightweight folding bikes are the future.

…our demo bike was sold before we could grab it. Clearly there was a demand…

Every gram counts, but once you get into exotic materials, the cost can rise rapidly.When we built our lightweight Brompton back in 1998, some changes were easy and cheap, but others cost 50p or more, per gram saved. Our fully-equipped bike ending up weighing 10.4kg and costing £687 (including purchase cost) – figures that look respectable even today.

Back to conventional off-the-shelf technology in 2004, and a typical Dahon or Brompton will weigh 12 or 13kg and cost around £500. But start stripping weight off, and the price rises rapidly. Birdy market a couple of bikes in the 11kg region for around a thousand pounds, and Bike Friday will sell you an even lighter machine, but it’ll cost well into four-figures in the UK. At the ultra-light end, there are a few single-speed, titanium oddities, such as the 6.5kg Panasonic Traincle, but that’s more or less priceless here, and a bit of a quirky thing to ride.

Dahon launched its assault on the ‘quality end’ last year with the limited edition Helios XX, which weighed a claimed 7.8kg without pedals, and cost £1,000.We say ‘claimed’ because our long-promised demo bike was sold (by a shop that must remain nameless) before we could grab it. Clearly there was a demand.

At the heart of the SL are these beautiful Rolf wheels and lightweight Schwalbe tyres

The XX utilised all sorts of expensive bits, but after some careful cost/benefit calculations, Dahon introduced the ‘budget’ Helios SL for the summer 2004 season.This bike costs a relatively slimline £800 and weighs 8.65kg on our scales, or precisely 19lb in real units.That’s far and away the lightest bike we’ve tested (if we ignore the Traincle), and one of a very select group of sub-10kg bikes – certainly the only one costing under the magic grand. Congratu- lations to Dahon for converting a relatively conventional aluminium bike (our last Helios weighed 12.2kg) into a super- lightweight racer. How was it done?

The Knowledge

The basis for this machine is the Helios 20-inch wheel bicycle, reviewed in more conventional form in A to B 31. Centrepiece of the conversion to SL spec are a pair of beautiful and ultra-light Rolf wheels, with 14 radial spokes on the front and 16 more conventionally-strung spokes at the rear.The spokes are noticeably ‘waisted’ to save weight (double-butted in engineering terms) and the wheel rims are the deep racy kind.Tyres are a super-lightweight version of the Schwalbe Stelvio we tested last year in 16-inch form.

…a wheel/tyre combination making all the right noises and transmitting all the right vibrations…

We judged the conventional Stelvio to have similar rolling resistance to the Brompton or Primo, which was slightly disappointing, but it weighed a few grams less, and was better suited to narrow rims. At 172g, the new ‘Light’ version fitted to the SL is probably the lightest production 406mm tyre in the world. It’s hard to believe that not so long ago, the 260g Primo Comet was considered a world-beater…The Light Stelvio rolls well too, reaching an excellent roll-down speed of 15mph on our test-hill, but in this respect, it’s still narrowly beaten by the Primo. Schwalbe has launched the tyre as a ‘Dahon Special Edition’ in snazzy orange and black, although a mass-market version is expected in the autumn.

Pair the Light Stelvio with inner tubes weighing only 74g apiece, and wheels weighing 500g, and you get an idea where much of the weight has been taken off. As any Formula One designer will tell you, if you’re removing weight from a machine the wheels are a good place to start, because lighter rotating bits react faster and more precisely to power input, plus cornering and braking forces. This certainly holds true for the SL, which goes far better than you might expect from a bike/rider combination that’s only 5% lighter than the cooking model.The bike storms away from the lights, leans hard through sweeping curves and brakes smoothly and consistently. Of course, much of the performance comes from the enthusiasm of the rider, and nothing generates enthusiasm more than a highly strung wheel/tyre combination making all the right sporty noises and transmitting all the right vibrations.

The gear system (presumably chosen on weight grounds) is SRAM X-7, which is actually an 8-speed, just to confuse the innocent consumer. It’s very pretty to look at and seems to do all the proper gear things as and when expected, although the change is not quite on a par with the very best. According to SRAM, the 7-series features ‘speed release spool detent shifting’, whatever that might mean, if indeed it means anything. In practice, most changes are satisfyingly crisp and clunky, rather than sewing machine slick.Very Germanic.

As compromises go, the ratios are more or less perfect.The 34-inch bottom gear should get the Helios up most gradients without too much huffing and blowing, and the top gear of 88-inches is tall enough to nip along on the flat with a following breeze, but not high enough for spinning down long gradual descents. Power transmission is wonderfully direct and there’s very little flex from the rear of the bike, so the Helios SL tends to encourage you to work hard and reward you with the desired forward motion. Standing out of the saddle is less satisfactory, because there’s quite a lot of flex in the front of the frame and the handlebar stem, which feels too frail for grunty, sweaty riding. Whether this is enough of a problem to put off the more seriously athletic types remains to be seen. A Bike Friday is certainly tauter, and thus almost certainly a little faster, but within the slightly flexy limitations of the Helios frame, the SL runs a surprisingly close second. And don’t forget how much money you’ve saved.

Elsewhere it’s hard to see where the weight has been shaved off.The handlebars look like carbon fibre and are called Carbonlite, but seem to be made of aluminium. No matter, they’re clearly very light and they look the part. Speaking of looks, the orange and black tyres, black frame, black stem and orange/yellow saddle may not be your cup of tea, but the general effect is suitably striking. As evidence for this, the hot wheels elicited a nod and grunt from a passing racer – a rare occurrence with a small-wheeler.

Opinions differ over the riding position.The saddle starts as-low-as-you-like and goes up to 100cm from the ground, while the bars are adjustable between a lowish 92.5cm and a giant 112cm. Not surprisingly, big people had mostly nice things to say, but those with a shorter torso and arms complained that although the saddle was in the right place, the handlebars were a bit of a stretch. Adjusting the height doesn’t cure the reach problem.

Folding

Not the smallest folded package, but perfectly manageable, thanks to its low weight

Typical Dahon, and easier than most.The handlebars fold down using the same mechanism we took a dislike to on the Presto in A to B 36. It does seem better on this example, but we know from experience that play can develop with use, which is something you really don’t want on a sportier bike like this. No complaint in that department with the mainframe hinge, which was horribly tight, producing a nasty groan whenever we forced it to perform. It got more cheerful after a bit of lubrication, but don’t we all? Nice tight engineering tolerances are no bad thing in hinges, but when you come to fold your beautiful new SL in front of an appreciative crowd, they’re liable to fall about laughing.

Folded size is adequate rather than stunning: 40cm wide, 68cm tall and 80cm long. That’s taller and wider than the standard Helios, but shorter, because the SL has slightly smaller tyres and no mudguards. Folded volume ‘as it comes’ is a reasonable 218 litres (7.8 cu ft), but remove the seat pillar and stow it between the wheels and the volume reduces to a much more presentable 180 litres (6.4 cu ft).Various fiddlings with handlebars will reduce the width below 40cm, but it’s hardly worth the trouble unless you expect to be travelling on a very packed train, for example.The bike comes with a velcro band to tie the wheels together, but as nearly always happens, we lost it within ten minutes. Fortunately – provided the bits are all properly secured – this is an easy bike to carry.You can’t argue with 8.7kg.

The folding process is aided by a pair of MKS Promenade demountable pedals. If you haven’t seen these before, fitting and removal involves pulling back a little spring-loaded collar on the pedal stem, which allows the pedal to slip out, leaving just the 20mm collar. Weighing only 175g apiece, these are the lightest ‘folding’ pedals around, with only the Brompton pedal leaving a smaller folded projection or more efficient folded/unfolded size ratio (6:1 against 4.3:1 for the MKS). Our only criticism is that you have to double check that the collars have seated properly before riding off. One of ours was a bit sticky, resulting in a loose pedal on a couple of occasions.When removed, the pedals have gooey greasy stubs. Dahon provides a little bag to put ‘em in, which solves the grease problem, but leave the bag on the train, and you’re completely stuck.You’ll also be £60 poorer (see Letters). Incidentally, with the pedals stowed elsewhere (‘Is that an MKS Promenade in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?’), the rest of the bike weighs only 8.37kg. A small, but significant bonus.

Accessories

A short paragraph this one.The SL has no mudguards, no pump, no lights, no rack and no stand. But it’s a standard Helios frame, with standard fitting lugs, so you can bolt most of them on if you want.The only thing we’d demand if we were using the bike on a regular basis would be lightweight mudguards of some kind – there must be such a thing?

Speaking of accessories, the Rolf wheels do not take kindly to reflectors, which are, of course, a legal requirement in the UK and almost everywhere else.We found the reflectors supplied with the bike fitted the front wheel (albeit rather close to the hub) but wouldn’t play ball with the rear spokes. If some clown knocks you off your SL at dusk, a quick-witted lawyer may pick up on this, so would-be purchasers need to find a BS- approved reflector that fits.

Conclusion

Rather to our surprise, we found ourselves using the SL for all sorts of journeys, the light weight more than making up for the large folded size for rail trips. On the open road, the low rolling resistance and crisp gear change were much appreciated too.

We think the SL is worth every penny of that eight hundred quid, and even if it wasn’t, it has the lightweight market all to itself. If you’ve bought A to B with the intention of spending a few pounds on a car-boot bike for Sunday afternoons in the park, we insist you think again. If you can live with the lurid orange/black colour scheme, this is a bike you will learn to love – it rolls well and it’s a dream to carry.

The real market, one assumes, is amongst younger, trendier, more serious riders, and the SL bursts straight into Airnimal/Bike Friday territory, breaking all the weight records by a considerable margin. Add some basic mudguards and a pair of LED lights, and you could build a practical super-commuter weighing less than 9kg – a sensational figure. If you would prefer to put those few precious grams into full suspension, Dahon also produce the 9kg Jetstream XP.

Specification

Dahon Helios SL . £800 . Weight 8.65kg (19lb) . Gears SRAM X-7 8spd . Ratios 34″ – 88″ Folded Dimensions W40cm H68cm L80cm . Folded Volume 218 litres (7.8cu ft) .Folded Dimensions Saddle stem removed W40cm H56cm L80cm . Folded volume Saddle stem removed 180 litres 6.4cu ft . Manufacturer Dahon web www.dahon.com . UK distributor Cyclemotion tel 0800 585405 mail sales@cyclemotion.co.uk web www.dahon.co.uk

We’ve never been particularly fond of the 16- inch Di Blasi bicycle. Certainly, it has a clever folding action, but at 14kg it’s on the back-breaking side of heavy, it has too many wobbly joints, and it simply doesn’t stand up in comparison to your typical Brompton or Dahon.We’ll hold fire on the newer 20-inch version, which might perform better.

For some years, the company has also produced a trike, which looks absolutely fascinating on paper. Now, at long last we can answer a few questions about the hardware. Yes, it really is a full-size trike (albeit with 16-inch wheels), and yes, it really does fold into a Brompton-style package in a matter of seconds. Of course, there have to be a few compromises with something this complex, and at £800, is this really a viable product?

Folding & unfolding

Even experienced engineers will marvel at the Di Blasi trike.We can’t begin to explain what individual rods, linkages and hinges do, but fold the pedals and release a catch down by the saddle stem, and the back of the machine folds inward and curls up, like a frightened hedgehog. Release a second catch on the handlebar stem and the front folds forward and in, allowing the front wheel to disappear between the rear wheels. If you wait long enough with a saucer of milk, it might come out again.

The process is wonderful to watch, and results in a rectangular package sitting neatly on its rack, and a crowd of oohing and ahhing spectators. Even more remarkably, this rectangular block that was once a tricycle measures only 27cm wide, 62cm long and 66cm high.That’s 111 litres, or if you prefer (as we do), 3.9 cubic feet. So, yes, this large tricycle has wound up smaller than almost any folding bicycle you care to mention, with the exception (narrowly) of the Brompton.

…Even experienced engineers will marvel at the Di Blasi trike…

Is it easy to do? In theory you just push a couple of levers, but there are a few pitfalls for the unwary. The front wheel must be pointing forward, or it can jam as it tries to rise (or fall?) between the rear wheels, and if you don’t start with the pedal cranks in a vertical plane, everything can get fouled up. Otherwise, yes, it is very easy. And, if anything, unfolding is easier – the machine just sort of flips out, and provided the catches have re- engaged and the pedals have popped out, you can ride straight off.

And now, having got enthusiasts for folding and metamorphosing things all steamed up with excitement, we must qualify the more amazing bits.Try lifting the trike, and you’ll discover that it’s a lot heavier than a Brompton – 20.2kg to be precise (Di Blasi, rather unnecessarily, suggest 21kg), whereas a typical folding bike weighs 12kg or so, which most people can manage, at least over short distances.Twenty plus kilograms really is too heavy for the older or frailer folk who might want a trike. A young, able-bodied person might be able to carry it, or lower it into a car boot for you, but on your own, you’ll be stuck.We found a lightweight sack-truck useful for moving the Di Blasi about, but this won’t negotiate steps. Di Blasi do sell a neat bag with a shoulder strap that would make carrying easier and give some disguise on the bus.

Strangely, few concessions have been made to weight. Besides the cranks and wheels rims, the trike is almost entirely steel (even the rack) and some of the joints and brackets are pretty chunky.We think a weight of 15kg would be feasible with better use of materials, although this would obviously cost more.

Back with the good news, you can take the Di Blasi just about anywhere. Folding bicycles are allowed on all trains and most buses these days, but trikes are more or less universally banned.Technically, the Di Blasi is banned too, but we just walked aboard. Like a Brompton, the folded Di Blasi is both train and bus-friendly, but you need to plan your journey to avoid stepped bridges and long corridors, and it’s a good idea not to let the bus driver count the wheels…

Riding

A profusion of joints and rods around the headset

The derailleur drives to the left wheel. Note the universal joint - this allows the drive shaft to fold up

The first special obstacle with the Di Blasi is single (left) wheel drive, which allows the trike to manoeuvre with great dexterity to the right, but rather hinders things when turning left.Try to pull away in what might be termed a spirited manner, and the drive wheel loses adhesion and slips like mad. Perhaps surprisingly, the Di Blasi has a relatively wide track, at a shade over 67cm, but it’s still narrow enough to lift an inside wheel on corners and adverse cambers, and (provided you lift the unpowered right wheel) you can ride for some distance in two-wheel mode. Incidentally, we’d suggest deliberately finding these limits somewhere soft and car-free before riding any trike in anger. Once you’ve got it on two wheels, you’ll begin to get a feel for avoiding it in future.

All this applies to any trike with two wheels at the back.The Di Blasi exhibits a few oddities of its own, against more traditional trikes.The wheelbase is a bit short, which can make the ride a bit choppy and nervous, and there’s a degree of free play in the numerous linkages and pivots that make the thing fold so wonderfully.This results in wheel track and camber angles that are only nominally correct most of the time, and some slightly odd handling traits, plus a few clicking, clonking and squeaking noises on the move. At very low speed, none of this matters, but you wouldn’t really want to ask too much of the machine at speed.

Unless you’re into leaning out, motorcycle sidecar style, cornering has to be a rather sedate affair, and there are more surprises in store when it comes to stopping. Bikes and trikes are obliged to have two independent braking systems, but the Di Blasi (quite legally) has both systems on the front wheel – drum brake on the right and band brake (plus a useful parking lock) on the left. In a straight line, the brakes do a reasonable job – .42G from the rather ‘woolly’ drum and .52G from a powerfully self-servo band brake (see A to B 42). But a crash stop with the band brake leaves the front wheel scrabbling for grip. Use both levers and the trike will stand on its front wheel, which can be most exhilerating.We managed a respectable stop of .63G with all three wheels just on the ground.

…Use both levers and the trike will stand on its front wheel… On a corner, forget it

On a corner, forget it.There you are, spinning cheerfully down a steep curvaceous road, and a car pulls out in front.Your only hope of braking and staying upright is to pull up in a straight line because any sort of panic brake application while cornering will flip the trike over. In marked contrast, braking on snow and ice would instantly lock the front wheel, resulting in no brakes or steering at all.

Two independent braking systems - band brake behind and drum brake in front

In reality, you won’t be spinning, leaning or flipping, the Di Blasi, because it’s not meant for high speed.This is a suburban shopping and commuting trike, with seven derailleur gears giving a range from 23 to 50-inches. Normally, we’d say that was laughably low, but in this case, a 50-inch gear is quite high enough, giving a top speed in the region of 10mph, which is adequate for its intended use. Higher gears and speeds would be dangerous, and lower gears would be impractical, because when climbing a steep hill in first, the front wheel tends to skid to the right with each pedal stroke, as the single driven wheel pushes the trike sideways. If you stand out of the pedals to put some extra weight over the front wheel, the left driven wheel just skids (see acceleration).

For those who still want to ride long distances at speed on a folding trike, it might just be possible to fit 349mm wheels and Primo tyres, and the little Shimano Capreo derailleur set would give some nice high ratios.

This is all hypothetical, of course.The vast majority of Di Blasi trikes find homes with little old ladies looking for safe, ride-to-the- shops transport, and provided you don’t do anything silly, it does this very well.The narrow track allows the machine to nip along surprisingly narrow pavements, and once at Sainsbury’s, the small wheels and short wheelbase help it manoeuvre into all sorts of corners, the trike easily turning (to the right, at least) in its own length. If you are up to looking suitably frail and harmless, you could probably get away with riding through pedestrianized areas banned to bikes and thus – like Aesop’s hare – reach the door of the supermarket before the motorist has parked, and the cyclist has chained his bike to a stand down the mall.This is where the Di Blasi really wins – it can get away with doing most of the things a disabled trike can do, and sprint home with the bacon at 10mph. And don’t be too concerned about all the talk of flipping, rolling and skidding.We showed the Di Blasi to an experienced trike user and she was impressed, so as trikes go, it’s clearly not particularly unstable.

…Within days, the lovely chromey bell had shrugged off most of its chrome like dandruff

Equipment

Considering how tiny the package folds, the Di Blasi trike is exceptionally well equipped. Full mudguards in chromed steel (weight no object, once again), a halogen dynamo lighting set, attractive chrome-plated bell and a substantial rack.This measures 28cm by 45cm and sits more or less over the rear wheels, so it should carry a good load. We rode for some miles with Alexander on the back; this low-slung 20kg human load actually improving the stability.The maximum recommended load (rider plus luggage) is 100kg, so we would have no qualms about putting 30 or 40kg on the rack, or better still, slung from panniers either side. Any weight here would tend to make the bike more stable and improve the grip.

Passengers are a no-no, officially at any rate.The rack is fabricated from cross, rather than longitudinal bars, so a conventional rack-mounted child seat will not fit. Di Blasi make no recommendation for carrying children, but we think the trike makes a jolly good platform for that sort of thing.We’d suggest a side-facing child seat, although it would need a quick release mount if you don’t want to compromise the easy foldability.

As with too many Italian products, the Di Blasi is rather let down by the quality of some components.Within days, the lovely chromey bell had shrugged off most of its chrome like dandruff, and some of the threaded components seem to be made of putty. Unusually the headset is a plain bearing, which might cause problems after a while, and other silly things spoil the look of the trike, like the Di Blasi letters on the frame, which peeled off before our eyes. Elsewhere, particularly for safety-related items, the finish and general quality seems to be very good.We managed to bend one of the chain links, but suspect this occurred whilst folding, as the chain is obliged to do some odd things.

Reader Denise Rayner (see box) tells us that the ubiquitous Selle San Marco saddle fitted to the trike is particularly uncomfortable in, shall we say, a critical area. Unfortunately, it’s welded into a special cradle to suit the twin seat tubes, so fitting an alternative would be difficult. Saddle height is adjustable between 83 and 96cm, locked by two quick releases at a choice of four heights, at least one of which should suit most people. if you want a custom setting, the tubes can be drilled, but there’s no escaping those maximum and minimum heights. Height adjustment should be easy, but the tubes tend to jam on the lower settings, which can be very annoying. Handlebars are fixed at 100cm – a bit upright for some, but then wind resistance shouldn’t be a great problem at 10mph.

Reader’s Experience Denise Rayner “Suffering from MS, I needed a trike.The Di Blasi is heavy – lifting it into the car was difficult, but manageable. Riding made me nervous at first, but within three minutes I was whizzing round our local park, and I ended up doing 12 circuits – about three miles. I was ecstatic to achieve 12mph. Like anything else, folding is easy when you know how, but because I was tired I found it very hard. I haven’t used the trike as much as I would like because I really need a ‘Bike Buddy’ to ride with.” (Anyone willing to share gentle rides in London can contact Denise at sunray7@blueyonder.co.uk)

Conclusion

What can we say? Trikes are rare enough anyway, and this compact folding version is probably unique. Ride two-up and you get cheery waves from Hell’s Angels on motor tricycles, while car-drivers – barely familiar with bicycles in most cases – just stare open- mouthed. In some ways, you have to be a bit of an exhibitionist to ride something like this, but you don’t necessarily have to look or feel like a complete banana, as we willingly do in, on, and sometimes under the more unusual forms of A to B transport.

If you have the space, a Powabyke electric trike costs the same, and does much the same things, with the bonus of whizzing up hills. On the other hand, if you need a compact folding trike, the Di Blasi is the best (and only) member of its class…

Specification

Di Blasi folding trike £800 . Weight 20.2kg . Gears Monsoon 7-spd . Ratios 23″ – 50″ Folded Dimensions H66cm W27cm L62cm . Folded Volume 111 litres (3.9 cu ft) . Test Duration 30 miles . Manufacturer Di Blasi web www.diblasi.it . UK Importer Concept Edge web www.conceptedge.co.uk mail info@conceptedge.co.uk tel 01895 850455

Not so long ago, the renowned Joe Breeze – inventor of the mountain bike to some – decided to import a line of folding bikes into the States, as part of his Breezer label’s move away from the MTB.Whose products would this giant of the US bicycle world choose as a partner we wondered? Birdy perhaps? Or maybe Brompton – both were looking to improve their US representation at the time.To our enormous surprise, Joe settled on Oyama, a Taiwanese/Chinese manufacturer of crude, toy-like machines from the murky basement world of budget folders.

Not all Oyama products are completely hopeless, and the 20-inch folders look quite presentable, but the real joker was the ‘Micro’ 14-inch bike, which Joe labelled the Itzy and began flogging for $450.We felt compelled to write the following in our web-based Buyer’s Guide:‘The little Itzy has a super-short wheelbase and is not really suitable for carrying a typical North American.’ Fair comment we thought, but it resulted in a flurry of emails from the States, including the sort of Good Cop, Bad Cop stuff outlawed by the Geneva Convention. In the event, we failed to back down (the pocket review is still there for anyone who wants a good laugh), and Breezer went on to withdraw all lines of communication.

…twirling pedals and overly-low seat post… make you feel like a complete plonker…

The Micromaxxi

Actually, if the Itzy had been branded as a $200 trailer park accessory, as it has in the UK, we’d have been kinder, because the bike – sold here as the Micromaxxi for £185 – is a long way from being the worst folder in the world. That said, it does have some rather damning faults, not least of which is that it’s totally unsuitable for the average North American.

The problem here is wheelbase, or at 81cm, the lack of it.That wouldn’t matter if this decidedly small bike was only to be ridden by small people, but the handlebar height is 92cm, and the saddle goes up to 89cm, or even more for those with nerves of steel.

You don’t need to be a mathematician to calculate that when a bicycle is taller than it is long, it’s likely to be a bit unstable, particularly if 68% of the rider’s weight is born by the rear wheel (compare these figures with the Honda on page 27).

The Micro is available in steel and alloy derivatives, the alloy model allegedly weighing a respectable 8.7kg. Unfortunately MaxxiRaxx, the importer, decided against the alloy job, so ours is steel, and it weighs a substantial 11.4kg, which would be acceptable for a folding bike with gears and accessories, but it’s extremely heavy for a tiny single-speed job.

On the positive side, the Micro is well finished.The welds are quite neat, the silver paintwork is lustrous, and the bike feels unusually rigid and stable.The 14-inch alloy wheels (not to be confused with the Bickerton and ‘baby’ Moulton 14×13/8″ size) are unusual in the UK, with a metric size of 40x254mm.You’ll want to look after the Duro tyres, because they’ll be next to impossible to replace. About 13 inches in overall diameter, the tyres may be small, but they’re positively grown-up against the 203mm tyres fitted to the Gekko and other slightly dubious tiny-folders.

You don’t often see calipers as cheap and nasty as this nowadays

The rigid frame and largish wheels combine to give the Micro a surprisingly good ride, with modest pothole hopping capabilities. But get out of the car park onto a proper road and the Micro is blown away by all other two wheelers.The single 43″ gear is totally inadequate, and the twirling pedals and overly-low seat post combine to make you feel (and look) like a complete plonker. So outrageously daft is this machine that scaffolders and the like, who might be expected to have some pithy witticism in store, simply stare open-mouthed.

Acceleration and top speed are so poor that we were unwilling to tackle a roundabout, the general impression being that the bike is something of a danger to shipping, forcing other cyclists to pull out into the traffic to pass.This is strictly not a commuter machine.

Considering the ‘over-square’ dimensions of the bike, it is perhaps just as well that the brakes are atrocious, because decent brakes would have the rider performing involuntary ‘stoppies’. The front manages a barely acceptable stop of .45G, but a convoluted cable run and basement-level caliper conspire to give an emergency stop of .2G at the rear. If you’re having trouble picturing a stopping force of .2G, think of something just noticeable to the rider.

Folding

The Micromaxxi produces a neat and compact folded package

Much better news here.The bars fold down quite neatly against the front wheel, and the frame hinges in the middle, bringing the rear wheel round to sandwich the bars. Drop the saddle stem in the right place and it fits neatly round one of the brake levers, which helps to hold it all together.The folded package measures 33cm wide by 55cm high and 63cm long.That’s 114 litres or 4 cubic feet, which is almost Brompton-sized, so stowage space shouldn’t be a problem.

The Micromaxxi comes with a rather smart bag that folds away into itself and clips over the bars. it might also morph into a backpack, but we just didn’t have the patience to find out.The problem is, it’s all much too fiddly and time-consuming. Bags are not usually required on trains anyway, so the five minutes needed to unzip it and wrestle the bike in is wasted time.

Conclusion

In the sub-£200 region most of the opposition is quite large and/or heavy, as you might expect, but most of these bicycles can be ridden a realistic distance at a realistic speed. The Micromaxxi is the cheapest super-compact bike around, comparing well – in terms of folded size – with the Brompton ‘C’ type at £375, or the Riese & Müller Frog at £700. But it just isn’t rideable.

The importers suggest that the bike might suit caravanners and other leisure purchasers, but we think it serves little purpose in this market either. A Brompton or Dahon will carry a container of water or fuel, bring home the shopping, and splosh cheerfully along rough towpaths – the Micromaxxi will do none of these things. If you really can’t spare more than £200, buy a budget 20-inch folder. If you want a similarly practical compact folding bike, you will regret not a penny of the £375 Brompton ‘C’ type.

Specification

Micromaxxi £185 . Breezer Itzy $450
Weight 11.4kg (25lb)
Max Saddle height <89cm
Gear Ratio 43″
Folded Dimensions W33cm H55cm L63cm
Folded Volume 114 litres
Manufacturer Oyama Industrial web www.oyama.com
UK distributor Touchstone Designs
tel 01342 844678 mail info@touchstone-design.co.uk web www.touchstone-design.co.uk

As an internet buyer, the experience was simple. I chose, I clicked, I bought, it arrived the next day, I unpacked, unfolded, fitted the seat, and rode. And nearly fell off. But although your first ten seconds on a Strida are bewildering, your brain quickly reprograms your senses. It’s short, rigid, nippy, and surprisingly comfy. My wife at 5′ 7″ thought it was great, because the riding position really is very upright, and the clever adjustable seat slides up and down the rear of the ‘triangle’ (after loosening three bolts), making it comfortable for both the short and the tall (six foot is probably the maximum though).The handlebars are placed very close to your body, which is unnerving at first, but quickly becomes very natural. It’s sort of steering from your stomach – none of this stretched-out-racer-style lark. I imagined I’d be thrown out of the seat upon mounting pavements and bumping over long grass, but the frame changes (see below) must have worked, because it feels far more rigid than a Brilliant Micro on the road, but is still compliant enough to tackle towpaths.

Anyone doing their maths will have realised that this bike is not without limitations. A single 52″ gear means that long distance tourers, off-roaders (a sticker on the frame forbids wheelies), nor racers will find satisfaction here. But if you’re in no hurry and don’t mind riding a sliver of Dairylea, one gear can be enough. Settle yourself into the bike’s comfortable 10mph cruise, enjoy the gentle flex still present in the plastic crank wheel, and let the world enjoy the spectacle of an adult riding a shiny silver coat-hanger.

Accessories

You can spec your Strida out with a whole plethora of accessories at www.strida.com. I settled for a small plastic rack, a pair of rather short plastic mudguards, some nicely engineered folding handlebars, and a pair of folding pedals. All models come fitted with a natty Allen key tool which fits snugly under the seat (why don’t all bikes have built-in tools like this?).

The Strida is likely to appeal to those who want a bike without all the messy, ‘technical’ bits. If you like to just unfold and ride, you’ll appreciate the drum brakes, which along with the Destruction testing by belt drive are Stephanie, largely Ethan & Sam maintenance-free and laugh in the face of wet weather.The complete lack of grease means you can chuck it around without fear of soiling your clothes, and the Strida 3 doubles as an entirely safe climbing frame for small children. Nice. It’s also a doddle to keep clean, unlike more fiddly folding bikes, as the cables run inside the frame, and both wheels are fitted to monoblade forks, making wheel, tyre or tube changes much easier.

The Mark 3

Strida have made several improvements to the third generation bikes, claiming that the new folding handlebar reduces folded dimensions from 45″ x 21″ x 20″ to 45″ x 21″ x 9″, which reduces folded volume from 309 to 139 litres (10.9 to 4.9 cubic feet)!

They’ve also increased overall frame stiffness by using 7000 series heat-treated aluminium (which certainly sounds cool), and aluminum now replaces plastic in the front stem and bottom tube, which helps direct pedal-energy into the drive belt, which is where you want it. My friend with a Strida 2 claims his model is unwillingly to climb even the gentlest of hills, something that A to B also observed in June 1998 when testing the Mark 2.

…sufficiently entertaining to make you want to jump on and ride…

Range

To find out if it can cut the commuter mustard, I draped a sheet over my 24-speed Dahon, hung up my pannier bag and resigned to cycling my 11-mile round trip commute on the Strida for a week. I (luckily) don’t have to rely on public transport for any part of my journey, so no news there I’m afraid. First morning out, I allowed an extra 20 minutes, but the ride took only four minutes longer than normal, which surprised me. No drama. No stress, and no obvious flexing from the frame. Every morning for the rest of that week the thought of riding it to work became an exciting challenge.The simplicity of the bike – one gear, drum brakes, and not much else – made me feel like a little kid again.

Conclusion

The Strida will never replace my day-to-day Speed Pro, nor will it carry great loads long distance, but it’s sufficiently entertaining to make you want to jump on and ride it. Really steep hills are out of the question and the top speed is only 10-12mph, but do you know what? These things seem trivial when I stand back and look at the bike. It is a one- off, a design icon, and something truly different in a world of conformity.Who would have thought it possible to create a truly enjoyable bicycle from three aluminium tubes and a pair of plastic wheels? It’s one of those beautifully simple inventions that delivers more than you expect.You’ll just know if you want one. In fact I want another one.To keep on the coat rack at work, just for emergencies.

Strida Mark 3, from £345 according to spec.
Strida (UK) Ltd tel 01728 745000
fax 01728 747707 mail uk@strida.com web www.strida.com

It isn’t very often we get to test the sexier kind of bicycle. Not that we’re objecting to honest shoppers and folders, or even the less-than-honest Chinese electric MTBs that we seem to make a speciality of condemning these days. But once in a while it’s nice to play with some quality bits and pieces. Something like the Trek F600.

Trek is an extremely well known brand about which we know precisely nothing, because Trek has never crossed into our world, and we’ve seen no reason to cross into theirs.The company is actually a US bicycle manufacturer (well, designer would be closer to the mark) producing the usual vast range of MTBs for leisure- orientated off-roading – aluminium ones in this case. However,Trek also makes road machines and BMX bikes, and for older and wrinklier customers, the shop-person will delve under the counter and bring out the ‘Navigator’ brochure.This portrays ordinary, slightly wrinkly folk riding bicycles with chainguards, and the odd Shimano 8-speed hub gear, a mechanism which translates as an ‘internal drivetrain’ in Trek-speak. And right at the back, you’ll find the folders.We’re picking up vibes of fashionable young person’s manufacturer, with a few sensible offerings for those techno-greys who can still get their leg over, so to speak.

Quite why Trek decided to get into folding bikes, we’re not sure, but they did, and their ‘F’ series bikes made a first appearance in the UK at Cycle 2003.What we do know is that Dahon played a key development role, because certain key components are pure Dahon. Ask awkward questions and you’ll be told that the bikes were primarily designed at Trek’s European design centre. Perhaps commissioned might be nearer the mark?

Three bikes make up the range: the F200 (in blue, with rack, mudguards and 3-speed SRAM hub), F400 (silvery-blue, with or without the sensible bits, plus better cranks and Shimano 2200 8-speed derailleur) and F600 (black, shorn of all sensible bits, with rather nice wheels and Shimano Deore 9-speed derailleur).The hub-gear bike is a reasonable £470, the mid-range one £470-£500, depending on equipment, and the black job £750. That puts the cheaper bikes up against the Brompton L3 or Giant Halfway, and the top- ender against the likes of the Birdy, Dahon Speed Pro and Helios SL. Deciding that we’re more likely to be moved by something flash than a set of plasticky mudguards and a rack, Trek has provided us with the F600.

F600

The frame hinge is chunky hydroforming is the and attractive.

Wherever the primary design input came from, the ‘F’ range folders are fine machines, constructed from neatly sculptural hydroformed aluminium tubing. Before you run off to check the dictionary, next big thing – you put a boring old metal tube (generally aluminium) in a mould and pump it full of high pressure water, enough producing lovely sinuous shapes. Trek has made good use of the technique here, with frames that bulge and curve in all the right places. Quite whether the hour-glass head tube, or near figure-of-eight profile mainframe have any positive effects, we’re not sure, but the bikes are certainly very rigid.The immediate impression – unusual for a folding bike – is that you can ride as hard as you like and all effort will go straight from the pedals to the ground, without getting lost on the way.

…if we were putting a derailleur on a folder, this is the sort of system we’d choose…

We’re less happy about the stem hinge, but it works well.

The frame also has a highly-strung ‘brittle’ quality that can make the tubes quite noisy. Slight play in the headset on our example emerged as staccato clicks and clonks.

At 11cm, the main frame hinge is unusually tall in the vertical plane, which more or less eliminates flex, and the sculptural handle closes with a satisfying click, which inspires a certain confidence. Rigidity is aided by the Torsion Groove, a Dahon patented slot and mating groove on the hinge faces – simple and effective, like all the best ideas.

The handlebar stem folds around the newish hinge design that we’ve criticised in the past (see Dahon Presto, A to B 36).Whether the mechanism has been re-engineered, we don’t know, but there’s little or no play on this example, although it’s still possible to misengage the hinge in the dark, which we think could result in the bars collapsing as you pull away. Still, no-one else seems worried, so perhaps there’s no cause for alarm.

The Trek-branded saddle is excellent. A bit heavy, at 440g, but very comfortable. Both the saddle stem and seat tube are adjustable over a wide range, the handlebars from 98cm to 117cm and the saddle from virtually nothing to 104cm, which should suit most people.The general impression, reinforced by the rigidity and a reasonable 105.5 cm wheelbase, is of a bike for bigger people, so if you’ve discounted other folders as too small, this may be the machine of your dreams.

On the Road

Once under way, the Schwalbe Marathon tyres set up a pleasant zizz that reverberates tinnily in the hydroformed tubing.The feel is sporty, precise and dead fast, an impression heightened by the Deore gear set, that always gave knife-through-butter changes, despite some clumsy folding and unfolding (see below). Much of the credit must go to the Jagwire cables – take our word for it, you will be delighted by the precise, almost friction-free action.

The Jagwire effect is visible with the brakes too. A mere touch on the lever translates into a gentle brake application, the Shimano V-brakes working quietly and progressively, without the squeal and drama you tend to find with cheaper brands.That said, maximum power is a little disappointing.The rear wheel locks up at .38G, which is a little early, and the front is almost impossible to lock, thanks to a brake limiter.We managed a best front brake stop of .62G, which is perfectly adequate, but not quite up to the best available. With both brakes applied, maximum force is about .68G, the bike feeling very stable at this level. As we’ve said before, there’s an argument in favour of deliberately limiting front brake force to prevent those over-handlebar incidents, and Shimano has wisely followed this road.Without the limiter, the free-running cables could all too easily result in a locked front wheel.

Our only grumble – and it’s a very common problem – is a degree of brake bind and snatch due to poorly-trued wheels. A good cycle shop will sort this out at the Pre- Delivery Inspection stage, but a lazier (or less folder-orientated) shop won’t.

Drive train efficiency must be high too, because we guessed the bike was a shade low geared, but a check revealed first to be a highish 31″ and top a healthy 89″. Hmm, interesting.The Deore shifters change up in single gear steps, and down in anything up to four, so you can get most of the way through the gears with two grabs at the lever.That sort of thing makes for a noisy change, but the single steps are generally pretty slick. If we were putting a derailleur system on a folder, this is the sort of set-up we’d choose: Nine gears are a good compromise and the ratios are more or less spot-on.

…It has to be said that folding is not the Trek’s strongest suit…

Rolling resistance is not terribly good, but you’d never know it on the road.We recorded a roll-down speed of 13.7mph on our test hill, which is verging on shopping territory for 406mm tyres, and well below the best Brompton tyres, for example. Brakes and bearings are fine, so this relatively poor performance must be down to the Schwalbe Marathon Slick tyres, even at pressures of 55psi front and 85psi rear. Maximum pressure is 95psi, but you’ll need a good surface for that sort of thing, because the rigid frame transmits every lump and bump, albeit in a lithe and sporty way.

In practical terms, the F600 has no lights, rack or mudguards, so riding in winter can be a damp, sticky affair, and you’ll need battery lights and a back bag to carry all your bits and pieces.The mounting points are all there, but if you really want an all-weather Trek, you’d be better advised to buy the cheap but well-equipped F200 and upgrade from a 3-speed to 7- or 8-speed rear hub and dynamo lighting set.

Folding

The little magnets should hold the bike together when folded, but follow the instructions and they miss by some way

Being an American product, warning stickers abound on the Trek. Our favourite involves folding: ‘…keep fingers and other body parts out from items which are folded.’ Which body parts? Nose, perhaps? Errant nipple? Pinch-an-inch flab deposit? Obviously nudists should take care not to stick anything wobbly into the mechanism. It has to be said that folding is not the Trek’s strongest suit: It’s relatively heavy, at 11.9kg (26lb) – hardly arm-stretching, but for a bike without accessories, definitely on the heavy side. If the F600 was equipped to commute in all weathers, you’d need to add at least 10% to that, which would put the bike firmly at the puddingy end of the folder scale.

Then there’s the folding technique. Trek folders come with a handbook, but never trust instructions such as ‘…avoid pinching yourself or the cables…’ or ‘…hold the cables out of the way…’. It begins to sound like a three-handed job.

Not the smallest package, but like most Dahon designs, reasonably quick and easy to do

One of the neater Dahon touches is a pair of little magnetic plates that hold the two frame halves together. Follow the instructions (saddle stem, then bars, pedals and mainframe) and you will produce a neatish 207 litre package, but you’ll have to hold it together yourself because there’s no way the magnets will make contact.With a bit of experimentation, we produced a smaller package by removing the saddle, then folding the pedals, the mainframe, and finally the bars.The saddle stem has to be stowed down the middle.This process allows the magnets to come together and produces a lower, longer package measuring 34cm across by 92cm long and 59cm tall. Folded volume, at 185 litres or 6.5 cubic feet, is smaller than the Giant Halfway, and a smidgen larger than the similar Dahon Helios, which is quite good for such a substantial machine.

The three-piece bag system is much too complicated. It's tedious to fit, ungainly, heavy and cumbersome

All this mucking about does no good to the beautiful black paintwork, the ‘nail biter’ VP-117 pedals gouge chunks out of the Bontrager cranks if folded in the wrong place, and the matt black finish on the saddle stem comes off all too rapidly.With practice, the bike comes together reasonably quickly and consistently, but if folded frequently, the F600 would soon look tatty.

So far so good.Trek also provides a ‘three-piece folding bike bag’.The most useful part is a shoulder strap that loops around the bike fore and aft, enabling you to carry it in reasonable comfort. But rather oddly, there’s also a little dog basket thing, which can apparently be used as a sort of drip tray to prevent your F600 leaking muddy water all over the Italianate marble flooring.That’s all a bit designy and wimpy, but we get the idea.

Part three is even stranger – a sort of blancmange with a hole in the top. So you come steaming into Waterloo, 30 seconds before departure of the 17.32 to Effingham Junction: you sit the dog basket on the ground, fold the bike, place it in the basket, strap the shoulder strap to the machine at two points, feed it up through the hole, lower the blancmange over the bike and clip it to the dog basket in four places. Are they serious? This convoluted process produces a much bigger and more awkward package than you started with.Trek also claims that the blancmange converts into a backpack, but even our battle-scarred origami- minded folding technicians failed to complete the task.

With the three pieces costing £44.99, our recommendation is don’t even think about it. Old copies of The Sun do just as well as a drip tray (and are a lot more entertaining). A shoulder strap is useful, but you will find cheaper examples elsewhere.

Conclusion

Manufacturers seem to be jostling to dominate the posh end of the folder market, but look closely and you’ll see that most of them are Dahons, or Dahon-clones.The move upmarket has pushed prices through the roof: In 2003, the average Dahon cost £410 in the UK, but today you’ll pay £661 – an increase of more than 50%. And that’s cheap.The Birdy range now starts at £875 and runs to almost £2,000.

Against this sort of competition, the Trek gives a good account of itself, and at £470 to £750, it’s reasonably priced. Folding isn’t the best (probably easier than the Birdy, all the same) and weight is on the high side.The real competition here will come from Dahon’s own Helios SL due here next month – only £50 more expensive than the F600 and claimed to weigh just 8.2kg, or 21% less. Sounds like a win-win situation for Dahon, but we’ll let you know in June.

The Trek folders deserve to find buyers, and they will, partly because fashionable badges mean a great deal to some people.That said, tucking the bikes away in the old timers’ brochure hardly sounds like active marketing, which suggests that Trek might be a little embarrassed by the whole thing. A shame, because the F600 is a lively, efficient and rather sexy little number.

Specification

Trek F600 £750 .
Weight 11.9kg (26lb) .
Gear System Shimano Deore 9-spd .
Ratios 31” – 89”
Folded Volume Folded as instructions 207 litres (7.3 cu ft) Saddle stem removed 185 litres (6.5 cu ft)
Folded Dimensions As instructions L82cm H70cm W36cm Stem removed L92cm H59cm W34cm
Tyres Schwalbe Marathon Slick .
Size 35-406mm . Manufacturer Trek Bicycle Corporation
web www.trekbikes.com .
UK Distributor Trek Bicycle Corporation tel 01908 282626

The Presto is probably the most conventional looking of the three

If you’re a regular commuter, whether by train, car or bus, you could almost certainly use a quality folding bike.You may not realise that yet, but it’s probably the case nonetheless. A folder makes commuting more flexible, allowing you (for example) to hop off the train in a cheaper fare zone, take a different route when your line is closed, eliminate tube fares or station parking, or park- and-ride from the edge of the city. Everybody should have one, and the classic machines include the Brompton, or – if you prefer 20-inch wheels – a Dahon (typically the Helios), or the Giant Halfway.

None of these bikes are cheap, so we’re looking at three cut-price compacts: the Pashley Micro-Luxe, still only £295, the new Dahon Presto P3 at £345, and Brompton’s bargain basement C3 at £375. All three bikes have 16-inch wheels (the larger ‘British’ 347mm size on the Micro and Brompton, and smaller 305mm on the Dahon), and all fold into compact packages, although not quite the bus-friendly folded size of the Brompton L-type. But they’re much cheaper, and on paper at least, should do a similar job. Is this true?

It’s been a few years since we produced a group test of folding bikes, and we’ve never tried the Brompton C3, although the Brentford factory has been quietly producing this cheaper variant for several years. Basically, the C3 is a Brompton frame with inferior bits and pieces hung on it, with the exception of mudguards (there aren’t any), and it comes in any-colour-you-like as long as it’s red. A word of caution – we wouldn’t recommend buying a C3 with the intention of upgrading it to L6 spec when funds allow, because the cost would be prohibitive. However, the C3 accepts Brompton’s pannier system and with these sort of extras, it might be worth considering as a fine weather commuter bike.

The Presto is new, and one of a bewildering range of new and revamped models to arrive from Dahon’s Chinese factory in recent months.The frame is effectively a smaller version of the 20-inch Helios frame we admired in A to B 31, but almost everything else is new, or at least, new to us.

The Micro is one of the great survivors of the folding bike world, having been in more or less continuous production in a number of guises since its birth in Birmingham back in 1976.The bike has been produced by Pashley for a number of years now, but the company has made few changes, other than safety modifications and a change to a SRAM hub when Sturmey ceased to exist. Our test bike is actually a few years old, but can be treated as a new machine in most respects.

The Contenders

Despite their diminutive size, all three of these bikes can be adjusted to fit most riders, with the Dahon being the most adaptable and the Micro the least. If you’re very tiny, you’ll be delighted to hear that the Brompton can be ridden with the saddle only 65cm from the ground, but less pleased to hear that the Micro only drops to 74cm, and the Presto to 85cm. For the very tall, it’s more or less the other way around – 94cm for the Micro or Brompton and a useful 101cm on the Presto. Just to confuse matters, the Brompton leaves the factory with the saddle right forward and as low as it will go. Reverse the saddle bracket and fix the saddle at the very top of the stem, and you’ll find another centimetre or so, at the expense of a slightly taller folded package.The Brompton is also available with a taller saddle stem, or two-stage telescopic device, but that adds to the cost, weight and folded volume.

The Micro-Luxe - quirky looks and handling

Handlebar height is only adjustable on the Presto, in a range 84 – 101cm, the others being fixed at a reasonably comfy, if rather upright stance. Reach from the saddle to the bars obviously varies with saddle (and/or bar) position, but it’s greatest on the Presto at 52cm – 60cm (considered too much by some), and around 48 – 51cm for the Micro and Brompton. Generally speaking, the Presto is a bit stretched for the very small, but the best choice for those of six-foot plus.

Weight is almost as important as ride quality with compact machines, and when you’ve dashed from Platform 1 to Platform 14 a few times, you’ll begin to appreciate why.Winner here is the Micro at 11kg, followed by the Brompton at 11.3kg, and the light alloy, but more generously equipped Presto topping the scales at 11.6kg. If they all sound a bit heavy, Pashley claims it can produce a 9.5kg single- speed version of the Micro to order; Brompton says the C3 can be trimmed to 10.7kg with some pricier bits, and Dahon has just withdrawn a delightful single- speed version of the Presto, weighing a claimed 7.9kg.You might find one if you’re lucky, but you’ll have to pay £450. Most of the bigger, better folding bikes cost more than this, and they tend to weigh more too: 11.4kg for the Brompton L3, 12.2kg for the Dahon Helios, and 12.6kg for the Giant Halfway.

…if you can live with these quirks, you may be  very happy together…

Ride

Although it bears a family resemblance to the very sweet Dahon Helios, the little Presto proved a bit disappointing. Despite having the lowest gear ratios by a small margin, the smaller 305mm tyres make the bike feel slightly over-geared and lethargic.This effect is made worse by a degree of lateral flex in the main frame tube. On the positive side, the long 102cm wheelbase helps to smooth out any choppiness on poor road surfaces, and the saddle stem feels rigid fore and aft, so you can put in plenty of effort, provided you avoid twisting the machine.The handlebar stem would be rigid enough, but the joint feels loose, and despite greasing the moving parts, and adjusting the stop, we couldn’t eradicate this. And once in a while, the hinge appeared to latch, but was only partially fastened. Generally speaking, if the hinge mechanism is hidden, as it is here, it’s worth checking that things really have engaged properly before riding away. Of Doctor Hon’s many designs, this is not the best.

The Micro is a strange beast. Initially it feels highly unstable (‘wonky’ is a common complaint), but if you persist, that impression soon fades.The wonkiness is partly the result of a rather spindly front end and short 89cm wheelbase, but mainly due to the bars being well forward of the steering axis. Consequently, the handling is always going to be strange, but most people learn to live with it.The frame is solid enough at the rear, but that stem really is as frail as it looks, so the only practical technique is to sit upright and spin the pedals smoothly, putting as little weight on the bars as possible: much the same as riding the old Bickerton. If you can acclimatise yourself, the Micro can be quite a rewarding bike to ride, but the short wheelbase means you have to take a little care, and rough surfaces are beyond its capabilities. If you can live with these quirks, you may be very happy together, but if you can’t, you’ll hate it.

The Brompton C3 - economy version of the Brompton L and T models

The Brompton is the most rigid of the three, with something of a ‘proper’ big bike feel, and despite much higher gearing (still some 10% lower than the conventional Brompton), it feels sprightly and fun to ride.At 101.5cm, the wheelbase is almost as long as the Dahon, the frame is stiff, but entertainingly lively, and the rear suspension absorbs bumps quite well.The result is a machine that handles tricky canal towpaths and off-road trails with surprising ease – the lack of mudguards helps here, although lower gearing would be an advantage if the bike was to spend any time off-road. Read more about action ac.

None of these bikes are great hill-climbers. Despite a bottom ratio of 44 inches, the Brompton does best, because it’s rigid enough for you to stand out of the saddle on steep hills.With a bottom gear of 40 inches and a reasonable frame, the Dahon isn’t far behind, but the little Micro is limited to the sort of gradients that can be climbed with your bottom very firmly on the saddle. Standing out of the saddle on a Micro is an acquired art, and not an especially productive one.Top speed depends on how fast you can twiddle the pedals with a 75-inch top gear (Micro and Presto) and 82-inch gear (Brompton).

The best sixteen-inch rolling resistance is broadly comparable to a typical big-wheel bike these days, but there’s no special tyre technology on these budget machines.The Brompton wins the booby prize, with 1960s- vintage Raleigh Records, although the other models are fitted with the company’s own excellent tyres these days.The Micro used to come with useless Swallow tyres, but they went out of production, forcing Pashley to spend a few quid on their replacement – the good-all-rounder Schwalbe Marathon. Get the feeling the Micro is starved of investment? Dahon fits a pair of Kenda Kwests – another safe bet. In terms of rolling resistance, measured on our standard test hill, all three managed a shade over 13mph, or about one mile per hour behind the best 16-inch flyers. If anything, the Dahon seemed to have a slight edge, despite having the smallest tyres.

Brakes

Never were a group of bikes more widely separated. Both the Brompton and Micro are fitted with horrible side-pull callipers that should have become extinct several decades ago, but seem to have survived in this base-model Lost World.This, together with nondescript levers and long cables of dubious quality, results in some truly scary braking performance, even in ideal conditions.

Worst of all is the Brompton – mainly because the callipers and levers are so flexible that a crash stop results in the levers meeting the handlebars long before an acceptable brake force has been applied. On our test bike, the rear brake managed a stop of .27G (some way short of locking the wheel), while the front achieved a desultory .35G – not much risk of being thrown over the handlebars there. Heaving both levers right to the bars produced a panic stop of .48G, which just locks the rear wheel.That’s a sufficiently poor performance to be dangerous with heavier riders, or in busy city traffic. Once again, all other Bromptons are fitted with much improved dual- pivot brakes.

The Brompton C3 has the worst brakes of the group. Note the mounting block for the carrier system

The Micro has marginally better Tektro levers, but similar Saccon callipers to the Brompton.The rear brake did even worse, with a mean performance of only .25G, a rotten stop, made only slightly more interesting by a strange harmonic, which runs up through the frame and into your private parts. Strange but true. The front brake lacks the entertaining massage effect, but makes up for it with a modest stop of .52G.That’s not enough to lift the rear wheel, but considering the short wheelbase, it’s probably close enough for comfort, so improved callipers wouldn’t C3 necessarily make the bike any safer. Both brakes resulted in a stop of .6G, which is adequate, but far from heart-stopping.

In marked contrast, the Presto comes with Dahon-branded V-brakes, excellent Jagwire cables and Promax levers.The result is brake performance as close to a hydraulic system, in terms of performance and feel, as cable-operated brakes are likely to get.The cables flow through their guides almost without resistance, and when the brakes bite, they do so progressively and with real power.

The front to rear weight distribution must be good too, because we achieved an excellent .41G stop at the rear before the wheel locked up.Yes, that’s almost as good as heaving on both the Brompton anchors. Obviously there’s enough power here to lift the rear wheel with ease in a front brake stop, but the long wheelbase keeps things well under control. As the wheel starts to lift, the front brake hits a maximum of .75G, which is the best result we’ve achieved in our short experience of G-meters. It’s also better than the Orbit Orion tested elsewhere in this issue, which rather overturns the widely held belief that small-wheel don’t stop as well as big ones… Given similar technology, they stop just as well, or better.

Accessories

Dahon again, by a wide margin. The Presto has a pair of Next folding pedals (strange, because it only needs one), a smart little rack, a bell and a stand.The Micro has a pair of frightful VP-112 folding pedals (strange again) and a stand.The Brompton has nothing, except that wonderful Brompton frame. In terms of aftermarket fitments, there’s a mounting plate for the Brompton front carrier system, and another useful accessory is the folding pedal. But that comes as standard on the L- or T-type, together with proper brakes, decent tyres and so forth…You pays your money and takes your choice.

Folding

The Presto is the most difficult to fold, producing an untidy package

In folding tests, the Brompton always wins. The secret is a clever frame that folds and rotates back on itself around the steering head, producing easily the neatest, and marginally the smallest, of the three folded packages at 124 litres (4.4 cubic feet). And that’s with the left-hand pedal sticking out. Once you’ve learnt to do things in the right order, which is essential, it’s all very  straightforward, with a quick-release for the saddle stem and two big user-friendly U-clamps on the frame and stem joints.The folded package is marginally taller than the others at 56cm, and about the same width at 35cm (thanks to that protruding pedal) but at 60cm, it’s much shorter.

The Dahon frame folds around a robust-looking hinge, while the other (less satisfactory) hinge allows the handlebar stem to tuck down between the two frame halves. A quick-release drops the saddle stem, which can be left rather untidily in place or removed, while another quick-release on the handlebar stem must be loosened and re- tightened to allow the bars to assume their most compact position.This tricky manoeuvre proves the bike’s Achilles heel and results in all sorts of confusion for those unfamiliar with folders. A lock-nut on the quick-release would help, because the adjustment keeps changing, and needs constant fettling and fiddling. Get it wrong and the bars can drop right out of the folded package, or worse still, swivel round while you’re riding away. Get it right, and the Presto produces a near C3 folded package of 129 litres – 75cm long, 35cm wide, and 49cm tall (with the saddle stem stowed between the frame halves).

The Brompton is by far the neatest and quickest folder

The Micro is the simplest and/or crudest design, relying on a pair of rather frail- looking Brompton-style hinges, allied to the simple frame geometry of the Dahon. However, the Micro can be folded in any order, because the bars end up on the outside of the package – a much easier concept for beginners to grasp.There’s no handlebar height adjuster, and a simple quick-release to lower the saddle stem.The resulting package is a little wider than the Dahon at 36cm, taller at 51cm, but shorter at 71cm, producing a slightly bigger package of 130 litres.

Once folded, the Brompton is effectively locked together until the next time the saddle is lifted.The Micro and Dahon are not quite so clever, the Micro being secured in the folded position with a couple of domestic water- pipe clips, and the Dahon with an easily mislaid bit of Velcro.There’s no obligation  to remove the saddle stem with either, but if you don’t, the package will be taller: 64cm for the Micro (producing a 168 litre package) and 68cm for the Presto, resulting in a rather cumbersome 178 litres.

The Micro is the crudest design, but it works reasonably well

On paper, the three bikes might appear similar, but folding the Brompton is much more consistent. Once you’ve got the hang of it, the elements clonk down into exactly the same place each time and lock in place. Unfold the Brompton, and everything goes back where you left it the last time the bike was used. It’s a simple, reliable mechanism that can be repeated time and again, without trapped fingers or cables, and it’s as easy to do on a cold wet night as your train arrives, as it is on a Sunday morning in the park.

Fit a folding pedal to the Brompton, and the width comes down to 27cm, reducing the package size to 90.7 litres, or about 3.2 cubic feet.With a few compromises on riding position, caravanners, pilots and yachtsmen with cramped locker space can jiggle the length, width and height down a little further, producing a folded package of less than 85 litres, or three cubic feet.

Folding times are largely irrelevant in the leisure market, but the stuff of missed appointments and supper (or partner) going off the boil for commuters. Once again, the Brompton dominates: Provided you ride the bike with the saddle at its upper stop height, the C3 can be folded up or down in about 12 seconds (we managed a record of eight, but we know the bike well). Unfolding takes a second or two longer, because of the need to set the saddle alignment, but thanks to a height stop, everything else should wind up precisely in place.The Micro is superficially similar to the Brompton, but the need to remove the saddle stem adds a bit of time, making about 24 seconds in all. Unfolding takes about the same time, including setting the saddle stem height and alignment.

The Presto languishes in the 50 second zone – mainly because of the need to loosen the handlebar stem, then re-tighten it in the folded position; remove the saddle stem and stow it; then wrap the Velcro round. Unfolding can take even longer, because both the saddle and handlebar height and alignment must be set before riding off.

Conclusion

Before reaching our own conclusions, it’s worth summarising the views of our small panel of ‘conventional’ cyclists. At first glance, the Micro was dismissed, because of its dumpy appearance and short wheelbase.The slightly odd-looking Brompton was also treated with suspicion and the Dahon faired best, being considered the smartest and most conventional of the three bikes. A brief ride tended to produce much the same result – Dahon on top, closely followed by Brompton, with the Micro trailing behind. But folding changed everything, with even the beginners rating the Brompton best of the bunch, the Micro second, and the Dahon last.

Are these machines practical commuter bikes? Our advice with the Micro is to try it and see if you can live with the quibbles and quirks. If you can, you’ve found a compact, light and very economical folding bike. If you can’t, you’ll have to spend more…The short and the tall will prefer the Dahon, thanks to its adjustability, but for most commuting purposes, the folding is too clumsy, although a simple car park-and-ride journey shouldn’t prove too taxing. But if you want a Dahon, the 20-inch models are cheaper, easier to fold and much nicer to ride.

And the Brompton C3? It’s a jolly little bike, but you get the feeling there’s a much better machine trying to get out, which of course there is: the Brompton L-type.The L3 costs 25% more than the C3, but it’s probably the best commuter bike on the planet, so there’s no contest. Save up for the real thing…

Specification

Pashley Micro-Luxe £295
Weight 11kg (24.2lb)
Folded Volume Stem removed 130 litres
Folded size L71cm H51cm W36cm
Gear system SRAM 3-speed hub
Ratios 41″ 56″ 76″
Manufacturer Pashley Cycles tel 01789 292263 web www.pashley.co.uk

Dahon Presto P3 £345
Weight 11.6kg (25.5lb)
Folded Volume Stem removed 129 litres
Folded size L75cm H49cm W35cm
Gear system SRAM 3-speed hub
Ratios 40″ 55″ 75″
Manufacturer Dahon web www.dahon.com
UK distributor Cyclemotion tel 0800 585405 mail sales@cyclemotion.co.uk web www.dahon.co.uk

Brompton C3 £375
Weight 11.3kg (24.9lb)
Folded Volume 124 litres
Folded Size L60cm H56cm W37cm
Gear system SRAM 3-speed hub
Ratios 44″ 60″ 82″ . Manufacturer
Brompton Bicycle tel 020 8232 8484 web www.bromptonbicycle.co.uk

Whenever we test a new Dahon these days, we seem to remark on how well the machines are coming on. In motoring terms, Dahon is the Ford of the folding bike world – lots of models and mega- bucks global sales. These are machines for everyman – not upper class super- compacts like the Brompton, or testosterone-fuelled jobbies like the Bike Friday, but good honest value for money machines. And the value side of things just keeps getting better.Thanks to Dahon’s new Chinese factory, and a price realignment with Europe, UK prices have tumbled in the last year.They’re now virtually on a par with the United States, which is almost unknown for a folding bike, or indeed, any sort of bike.

Vitesse

The Vitesse might be described as the Ford Focus of the Dahon range – a reasonably economical, reasonably fast and eminently practical machine. In many ways, this bike is the natural descendant of the immortal Dawes Kingpin, the first of the 20-inch folders, that went on to spawn a whole range of frightful fold-in-half machines that caused untold damage to the genre in the 1980s.Yes, we’re talking ‘shopper’ here, but the Vitesse is light years from its 1970s roots. In fact, just about the only common component is the venerable Sturmey 3-speed hub, manufactured in Taiwan rather than Nottingham these days, but back on the market following the outrageous corporate rape and pillage of Sturmey Archer a few years ago.

…With cheap labour effectively running out, one assumes prices will eventually rise…

The other key component is a light and well finished aluminium frame. A year or two ago, this sort of feature would have been impractical on a modest shopper, but thanks to China’s Third World pay rates and growing expertise, a frame of this quality is now available on a sub-£300 machine. Quite where it will all end, we’re not sure.With pay and conditions already on their way up in China, the smart manufacturing dollars are already moving into Vietnam and Cambodia, but where then? With cheap labour effectively running out, one assumes the price of manufactured goods will eventually rise, but the philosophical and practical ramifications of this thesis are – thankfully – rather beyond the scope of this article.

On the Road

Yes, it’s that hub again - manufactured in Taiwan, and with a new alloy shell but broadly as it left off in 2000

Where were we? Ah, yes, the Vitesse.The initial impression is of a very light, possibly sub-Brompton weight machine. At 12.7kg (28lb in old money) it’s reasonably light, but the 11kg -12.5kg Brompton shouldn’t worry unduly just yet.The illusion is caused by the comparatively large folded size of the Dahon, of which more later.

Gear ratios are always something of a compromise on three-speed bikes.With the grey market in mind, Dahon has aimed low with  the Vitesse, choosing ratios of  42″, 56″ and 74″. All credit to this light and nippy bike that 74″ feels distinctly low, but you’ll be glad of the 42″ bottom gear with a load of shopping on board, even on modest gradients.

Handling might best be described as ‘competent’; the bike exhibiting no obvious vices, but providing no great entertainment either. One good sign is that it can be ridden hands- off with a degree of nonchalance that’s unusual for a small-wheeled machine, although by modern standards, the 20 x 1.5″ tyres are more Rubenesque than twiglet, which must help in the stability department.The only slight grumble was a degree of play in the handlebar stem hinge.This is easily adjusted out, but it’s worth checking that the dealer has run through such basic checks before you hand over all that lovely money.

Rolling resistance is good, thanks to a pair of competent Kenda Kwest tyres. Riding with 50psi in the front, and the recommended maximum of 65psi at the rear, we averaged 14.7mph on our roll-down test, which is a shade slower than the best 20-inch machines.

The riding position is rather short on adjustment, with a fixed handlebar height, limited fore-and-aft saddle movement, and maximum saddle height of only 101cm. But in practice, the position probably suits 90% of the population, excluding only those with particularly long legs and/or short arms.

G-forces and all that

…the front managed 0.72G before lifting the rear wheel… Exciting stuff, but all in a day’s work…

Thanks to (another) new toy – a digital G-force meter – we can tell you more than you probably want to know about brake efficiency. G-force is a measure of stopping or accelerating force, measured using gravity (1G) as a basis. Modern cars can produce a brake force in excess of 1G on a good dry surface, thanks to four grippy tyres.Two wheelers – particularly upright examples like the Dahon – are hampered by the fact that the rider will sail over the bars long before achieving a stop of 1G. In this case, the rear brake averaged 0.36G before the wheel locked up, and the front managed 0.72G before lifting the rear wheel. Exciting stuff, but all in a day’s work.

The figures are taken independently, and it’s no use adding them together to claim a stop of 1.08G, because under severe braking, force at the rear is effectively nil, as the wheel begins to lift.Thus the maximum force for the Vitesse is 0.72G.Whether that’s good or bad, we won’t know until we’ve tried a few more bikes. Finally, we’re only measuring maximum stopping force here, not brake system efficiency, which would require another device to measure the force applied at the lever.

The unbranded V-brakes work well, although the rear is hampered by an S-bend in the cable, giving a rather woolly action, and both proved hard to set up, thanks to out-of- true wheels, a common Dahon fault. Once again, a good dealer should sort this for you, but of course, many will not.The sturdy brake levers are adjustable for reach; useful if you have smaller hands, although the adjusting screw was missing on one of ours.

Equipment

A proper rack. Note the universal reflector/rear lamp mounting plate

Very good.The Vitesse comes with a proper old-fashioned rack complete with chrome-ey spring-clip, full mudguards and flaps, perspex chainguard, a stand, bell and twistgrip gear change. It all works well, although we had a couple of complaints that trouser legs (presumably raffish flares) could catch in the main frame hinge, and the new Sturmey gear-shift felt rather heavy and notchy. Those with smaller or weaker hands might prefer to fit ye olde post-1937 Sturmey trigger… unmatched since, but enough nostalgia.The hub itself ticks along much as it used to in’t Nottingham days, but we spent longer than expected getting the adjustment right, for which we shall blame that sticky twistgrip.

Folding

To begin with, it’s standard Dahon stuff – the handlebars fold down to the left, then the main frame breaks in the middle and folds to the left, sandwiching the bars. But there’s an extra fiddly element on the Vitesse, because the handlebars need to be rotated in the stem to prevent the brake levers fouling the stand and/or the ground. As delivered, the bars needed little rotation, but this set-up felt all wrong on the road, putting the levers too high and the gear indicator too low.With the brakes and gear-shift moved to a more comfortable position, the bars had to be rotated by nearly 180 degrees when folding the bike. It’s all a bit fiddly – fine for the occasional Sunday outing to the park, but much too annoying for a regular train commute.

Drop the saddle stem and fold the right-hand pedal (the excellent ‘Next’ design – a standard Dahon fitting) and you’re left with a package measuring 83.8cm long, 67.3cm tall, and 33.7cm wide. At 190 litres, this is slightly bulkier than the similar Helios we tested last summer. If that lot means as little to you as it does to us, the Vitesse occupies a volume of 6.8 cu ft, or about twice the volume of the folded Brompton, which continues to set the pace, folding wise.

Unfolding is straightforward in theory, but cables, brake levers and cranks tend to tangle with each other, which can easily double the time.

Conclusion

If you’re in the market for a nice sensible folding bike with hub gears and a rack, the Vitesse is more or less in a class of its own. It won’t break any speed records, either folding or on the road, but it’s a competent, pleasant machine, and with reasonable care, should give years of willing service. Is it worth £299? We’re joking, of course.The Vitesse would be a reasonable buy at £399, but knock £100 off and the opposition is left reeling.Well, would you rather ride a Pashley Micro or a base-model Strida? One suspects the top end of the market will shrug off Dahon’s ruthless march towards quality and value, but the cheapies could be in real trouble because machines of this calibre simply didn’t use sell for £300. Until now, that is. Dahon is on to a winner.

Specification

Dahon Vitesse D3 £300 (US $400)
Weight 12.7kg (28lb)
Folded Volume 190 litres
Folded Size L83.8cm H67.3cm W33.7cm Gear System Sunrace-Sturmey 3-speed hub Ratios 42″ 56″ 74″ Manufacturer Dahon web www.dahon.com UK Sales Cyclemotion web www.dahon.co.uk tel 01451 860083 fax 01451 860083 mail sales@cyclemotion.co.uk

This lecture was originally presented by author Tony Hadland at the CYCLE 2002 show in London, September 2002.The emphasis is on British- designed and foreign folding bikes that had a significant impact in the UK. ‘Portable’ is used inclusively to represent folding, separable and demountable cycles.

Seventies, Twenties and the Coming of the Compact

The 1970s were a boom time for cycle sales in the UK. Many of the machines sold were small-wheelers, usually 20-inch wheel shoppers, some of which folded. It was also a time when the floodgates opened to cheap imported folding cycles. For a time the Raleigh 20 range became that company’s biggest seller. One hundred and forty thousand were sold in 1975, perhaps 10% of which were the folding Stowaway model – the name being ‘nicked’ from the 1960s Moulton range.The Raleigh 20 Stowaway first appeared about 1970, competing head-to-head with the Dawes Folding Kingpin. It rode quite well and was robust, but no lightweight, weighing about 36lb.The Dawes and Raleigh folders competed with somewhat similar Puch and Elswick Hopper machines imported from Austria.They were also up against very cheap but poorly made East European U-frame folders, which were widely marketed via mail order and petrol station forecourts well into the 1980s.

Three folding bikes designed in the 1970s - Bickerton...

...Airframe.

But 1970 also saw a major advance in portable cycle design – the coming of the lightweight compact folder, in the form of the Bickerton.This ‘flexible friend’ was, in single- speed form, half the weight of a Raleigh Stowaway and about half the size when folded. A number of cycle tourists used the machine to great effect. Perhaps the best known was the Newbury grandmother Christian Miller, who rode across the USA solo and wrote the entertaining book Daisy, Daisy based on her experiences. Bickerton later introduced early US-designed Dahon folders to the UK. Since then Dahon have frequently introduced new models in the UK, many incorporating the company’s patented low-profile folding steering head/handlebar stock mechanism, and often sold at the low end of the market under other names such as Ridgeback, Philips and Rudge.

The breakthrough achieved by Bickerton encouraged other designers to try to do better. Peter Radnall, who ran a cycle components company in the West Midlands, designed the Micro for his own use. A very short wheelbase steel-framed machine, it was perhaps the first commercial exploitation of a Y-frame. Before going out of production, it achieved modest success with several manufacturers. In the 1990s, it was relaunched in improved longer-wheelbase form by Cresswell and is now made by Pashley as part of its Brilliant range. For occasional use by riders up to medium height, it is one of the lightest, most compact and affordable portables. Another compact lightweight was Grahame Herbert’s Airframe, designed soon after the Micro.This, like the Bickerton, used aluminium but in a much more triangulated manner, sacrificing a step-through frame in favour of greater rigidity in the vertical plane.The Airframe, however, did not go on sale until the mid-1980s and despite good reviews, did not sell well. After many years out of production, it became available again in slightly revised form in 2002.

Two successful machines from the 1980’s - the Strida, with designer Mark Sanders at the Weymouth Folder Forum, and ...

...the Brompton Both remain in production

The Airframe folds into a relatively long, thin package – what is sometimes referred to as a ‘stick folder’. Perhaps the ultimate ‘stick folder’ thus far is the Strida. Many enjoy this elegant machine as a form of kinetic art: some say it works better as sculpture than transport. Its ergonomics are necessarily compromised by the striking triangular design but as its designer Mark Sanders makes clear, it is intended to bridge the gap between walking and ‘proper’ cycling. As such, the machine is “…the biggest breakthrough was the Brompton… the benchmark against which all others are judged…” virtually grease-free. It incorporates many unusual features, such as a structural steerer tube and monoblade wheel mounting, enabling easy tyre repair. Launched in 1987, it remained in production for about five years and was later relaunched in modified form as the Strida 2.

But the biggest breakthrough in compact folders was, of course, the Brompton, launched in 1981, and the benchmark against which all other compact folders are judged. Amazingly, the current equivalent model is some 5lb lighter than the original yet costs about the same after allowance for inflation.

This completely bucks the usual trend, whereby specialised bicycles typically get heavier and more expensive as their production run continues. Much of this success can be put down to the single-mindedness of the machine’s inventor, Andrew Ritchie, who has resolutely resisted significantly diversifying his model range. Instead, he has concentrated on constant minor refinement of his winning concept, achieving a near optimal trade-off of engineering compromises for the intended use of his bike.

Performance Portables

Moulton AM was the first series-produced high performance portable bike

Alex Moulton and Raleigh went their separate ways in 1975.Two years later, Moulton conceived his spaceframe concept and in 1983 started selling the AM range of high performance dual-suspension separable small-wheelers.These broke new ground as the first series-produced high performance portables. They were used successfully for transcontinental touring and Audax riding. Fitted with streamlined fairings,AMs twice broke the flying 200 metres HPV record (for a conventional, non- recumbent, riding position).And on a separable AM Jubilee, amateur rider Dave Bogdan successfully completed the world’s toughest single stage race, the Race Across America (RAAM), averaging nearly 300 miles per day.

In 1992, Pashley started building a cheaper range of 20-inch wheel spaceframe Moultons and in 1998 Alex Moulton introduced his very refined but extremely expensive New Series, since when he has sold as many as he could make. In 2000, Bridgestone of Japan started making a re-engineered aluminium version of the original 1960s F-frame Moulton, including models with a new version of the 1960s Stowaway frame joint.

The introduction of the Moulton AM series was followed by a number of other performance portables. Some, such as Strutt (UK) and Montague (USA) used large diameter wheels. (Most Montagues sold in the UK were The badged as Rudge Bi-frames and marketed by Raleigh, although a few were sold as BMW Trekkers.)

Other makers used small wheels, with or without suspension. Bike Friday, launched in the USA in the late 1980s, rapidly established a reputation for performance, albeit usually with a relatively harsh ride, due to the lack of suspension on most models. Early advertising emphasised the famous Bike Friday trailer – a hard-shell case with detachable wheels into which the whole bike (and the trailer’s wheels) could be packed for easy air travel. Bike Friday went on to produce a folding tandem and folding recumbent.The UK-based Airnimal uses slightly larger wheels than the Bike Friday and has rear suspension as standard. If you have high standards make sure to check out thefloridamaids.com. The German Birdy uses smaller wheels but with dual suspension and relatively easy, compact folding. All these machines have their merits and demerits, but since the AM Moulton introduced the concept of high-performance series- produced portables, there has been a steadily increasing choice for potential purchasers. It just depends on how much you value the various facilities offered – weight, speed, handling, ride quality, rider position, adjustability, luggage carrying, ease of stowing, equipment options, spares availability, service support, purchase price and running cost.

So today we have a very good choice of portable cycles.Well-proven compacts epitomised by the Brompton, performance machines such as the Moulton and Bike Friday, and even large-wheeled off-road machines. Certainly, after more than 120 years of portable cycle design, we have not heard the end of the portable bicycle story yet.

For a more comprehensive review, read the book ‘It’s in the bag!’ by Tony Hadland and John Pinkerton, and its online supplement by Mike Hessey, who also runs the authoritative Folding Society web site. For details, see: www.hadland.net and www.foldsoc.co.uk