Even the Brompton’s worst enemies have to agree that it does a good job of folding. It’s also pretty nippy on the road.Where it’s not so hot is in those tricky off-road situations – loose rocky surfaces and mud in particular. As anyone will know who’s tried to haul one along the wrong sort of track, mud soon builds into a sticky poultice between the tyre and mudguard, and it can take weeks to shake out the last remnants.

The Brompton isn’t an off-road machine of course, and we’re not suggesting for a moment that it would be the best tool for serious mud-plugging. But many folding bike riders commute for all or part of their journey on tracks and trails, where the smooth tyres, limited mudguard clearance and high gearing are a positive hindrance. Most small- wheelers have 305mm or 406mm tyres, and there’s a reasonable range of knobbly rubber available in both these sizes. In the Brompton’s 349mm (16″ x 1 3/8″) size, there are none, and as far as we know, there never have been any. But even if a good tyre was available, you’d be left with the high gearing and the limited clearance.

…Slip on a tube and a new knobbly tyre and you’re off…Well, not quite…

The answer is to convert the bike to take the smaller 305mm tyres, as used by Dahon and most Far Eastern manufacturers. Although tricky to do, the conversion solves all three problems at once: a pair of knobbly tyres cut through the mud, and the smaller tyre diameter increases clearance and reduces the gearing.The operation is reversible too, so it would be quite practical to convert the bike for winter riding, or even for an off-road holiday, then swap all the bits back in fairer weather.

At this stage, we should point out that our donor bike is a fairly old three-speed Sturmey Archer model.The 5-speed offers a wider gear range, but the hub is a bit frail for off-roading and the gear change rather vulnerable.We don’t know how easy it would be to convert a post-Summer 2000 bike fitted with a 3-speed SRAM gearbox, although most of the information below will remain the same.

Front Wheel

Needless to say, the operation requires a few bits and pieces and a few workshop days, because the new tyres won’t fit the old rims, the old brakes won’t (necessarily) contact the new rims, and the Brompton uses special narrow axles…

We bought a 305mm front wheel at a local cycle shop – these are relatively common wheels, fitted mainly to childrens’ bikes, but look for something with proper spokes and a substantial rim. A Dahon wheel is ideal. Unfortunately, the hub will be too wide for the Brompton forks, so it’s necessary to have the wheel rebuilt onto a spare Brompton hub. For the enthusiastic amateur wheel-builder, this is an easy task, but a professional rebuild shouldn’t be too expensive,  because the Dahon spokes should fit straight into the new Brompton hub.

Slip on a tube, and a new knobbly tyre and you’re off…Well, not quite, because the Brompton brakes have a ‘drop’ of about 60mm, and the smaller wheel needs a drop of 80mm to reach the rim. As the new tyre is wider, and we’re particularly interested in creating extra space around the tyre, the answer is to raid your local cycle shop for an old-fashioned calliper brake.We found something called a Chang-Star Deluxe, with a width of 65mm and drop of 70-90mm. Inefficient, not very attractive, but ideal for the purpose. Plumb in the new calliper, taking care to follow the standard Brompton cable run, and the front of the bike is ready for action.

Rear Wheel

Finding a three-speed 305mm wheel proved surprisingly difficult, and we ended up approaching Dahon UK.The only complication here is that Dahon, like most cycle manufacturers used the standard Sturmey-Archer axle, whereas the Brompton has always used a special narrow-axle version.The easiest way round this problem is to swap the Dahon hub internals for the Brompton ones. If you know how to do this, great – if you don’t, pop into a dealer with the correct equipment.The conversion requires a giant spanner and takes just a few minutes (in other words, it should cost very little).

At this stage, it’s necessary to do something rather cruel to the Brompton rear frame, but it’s unavoidable.The Brompton frame is offset to one side for various technical reasons, but the wheel is not. A close inspection will reveal that the frame tube on the right hand (chain) side is slightly squashed, to give sufficient tyre to frame clearance. Unfortunately, our new tyre is a little wider, and it also meets the frame in a different place, so it’s necessary to re-squash the tube some 20mm closer to the hub.We did this by holding a suitably-shaped tube against the frame and gently hitting it. Don’t hit the frame directly with a hammer, and don’t overdo it…

With the tyre and tube in place, the wheel can now be fitted and the gear cable and tensioner assembly refitted as normal. But once again, we’re up against the brake problem. Standard- issue Brompton rear brakes have a drop of about 50mm, according to model. Most designs are also a tight fit around the tyre, causing many of the problems off-road.

No doubt there are a number of suitable callipers around.We managed to squeeze the required 67mm  clearance out of the Alhonga dual-pivot design.This was a common Brompton upgrade before the company introduced its own dual-pivot brake a couple of years ago, and should still be available from folding bike specialists. After grinding the slots, we just produced enough clearance for the pads to work effectively.

Gears, brakes, clearance… have we finished? Not if the bike has a dynamo, because this will now be in the wrong place, but it’s easily sorted with an extended bracket.The final adjustment is to the folding stop on the rear brake assembly.This device must be accurately set for the bike to lock together properly when folded.The smaller tyres allow the bike to fold a little lower, necessitating some adjustment of the stop to keep everything together. Once again, this was just possible on the most extended setting.

On the road, the first impression is of high rolling resistance – only to be expected from tyres of this kind. Gearing on older 3-speed Bromptons is generally 48″ – 83″, which is far too high for off-road use.The new smaller tyres reduce the ratios to 44″ (first), 59″ (second) and 77″ (top), which is better, but still too high.

On & Off Road

We tried fitting a 44-tooth chainring and 14-tooth sprocket, a combination supplied by Brompton for those preferring lower gears.This gave ratios of 36″, 48″ and 63″. Not ideal, but a good compromise, offering reasonable performance off-road, plus a useable top speed on tarmac. A smaller chainring will help off-road, but limit top speed.

How does the bike perform? Obviously braking and acceleration on loose, sandy or muddy surfaces is much improved. Indeed, the off-road Brompton has yet to get stuck anywhere. Even with the mudguards in place (we still view this primarily as a commuter bike, like any other), there’s some 20mm clearance around the tyres in most places, although things are a bit tight near the rear brake.When mud does start to accumulate, it’s much easier to hook, or wash, it out.

A pleasant surprise was the extra efficiency of the mudguards.These normally create quite a bit of spray, but the smaller 305mm tyres reduce this, even under the most extreme conditions. Surprisingly, the conversion proved quite popular on tarmac too. Provided you aren’t aiming to break any speed records, the off-road Brompton plugs along perfectly well. One point to watch is that brake efficiency may be considerably reduced, particularly if you have fitted nondescript callipers and/or steel rims (ours has a steel rim on the front, aluminium at the rear).

Conclusion

Is this conversion really worth all the effort? That depends on your circumstances. If you regularly have problems with poor off-road traction, and clumps of mud that take days to work their way out of the mudguards, a 305mm conversion should more or less cure the problem.

Cost will vary a great deal, depending on how much you do yourself. Our bike cost about £80 in parts, but you should expect to pay at least two or three times that for a professional conversion.

Reversing the process takes only a few hours, although there is such a wide variety of 305mm tyres available, it might be easier to stick with the smaller tyres, but keep a summer and winter set, swapping them according to the weather conditions.

Most good Brompton dealers should be able to make the conversion. Kinetics of Glasgow offer a mail- order service – both wheels rebuilt with 305mm rims for £65 plus postage. Tel 0141 942 2552

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

In The Beginning…

As early as 1881, the journalist Henry Sturmey wrote: ‘The idea of putting a bicycle into a bag is, indeed, a queer one, but of considerable value for all that, in these days of high railway charges’. William Grout had recently invented his ‘Portable’, an Ordinary or High Wheeler bicycle that could be packed into a relatively small bag.The big front wheel unbolted into four segments (solid tyres have their advantages!) and the spine of the bike folded in two. But the Grout Portable cost two or three times as much as a standard ‘Penny Farthing’, itself not cheap.The class of people who could afford it were not the sort willing to spend ten minutes grovelling about with spanners and wrestling bits of bicycle on a railway platform, while their social inferiors tittered in the background.The Grout Portable therefore did not catch on.

About this time, tricycles were set to eclipse the High Bicycle in popularity, being easier and safer to ride. But the problem with tricycles was getting them through doorways.Therefore many were made to reduce in width.The axle on which the two wheels were mounted might be constructed on a folding system, so that all three wheels could be swung into line. Alternatively, the axle might be made to telescope to a reduced width.The modern ‘safety’ bicycle soon saw off the penny-farthings and greatly reduced the popularity of trikes. Nonetheless, compressible tricycles were available for well over twenty years.

A Military Interlude

At the end of the 19th century and in the early years of the 20th, there was considerable interest in military folding bicycles.Various nations, including the French, Dutch, Italians and British, experimented with them. In Britain, the Danish engineer Mikael Pedersen introduced a ‘Folding & Military’ version of his famous thin-tube bicycle, that was claimed to weigh a mere 15lb. In reality, it separated rather than folded (the two parts could be held together with a strap) and the late John Pinkerton’s example weighed 29lb.There is a lesson here about accepting bicycle manufacturers’ claims! Perhaps the prototype did weigh 15lbs. But in series production, weight often creeps up as consumer use reveals the inadequacies of design and detailing, and as cost pressures encourage the use of cheaper, heavier materials and components. Anyway, the British army did not adopt the Pedersen and the ‘Folding & Military’ version was phased out after four years.

There were certainly folding (but otherwise conventional) diamond-frame safety bicycles commissioned by the British War Office in the First World War. These typically had a simple hinge in both the top tube and down tube, sometimes with additional reinforcing tubes linking the top and down tubes, adjacent to the hinges.These machines are often said to be BSAs, though in reality that company made few.The confusion arises from the widespread use by frame-makers of BSA fittings, such as lugs and bottom bracket shells.

In the Second World War, BSA and Raleigh certainly did make folding military cycles. BSA’s so-called ‘Parabike’ was by far the best known. (Interestingly, BSA did not formally adopt the name ‘Parabike’ until after the war, when they used it for a non-folding toy version.) The Parabike’s twin top and down tubes were formed by continuing the chain and seat stays forward to the head tube, a form of construction possibly suggested by the Moorson company’s twin-tube lightweights.There are numerous myths about Parabikes being used in large numbers by paratroopers in combat situations. I know of not one case that has been authenticated. Certainly, Parabikes were tested, and training routines evolved, documented and carried out. But when you think about it, the last thing a paratrooper (already burdened with a huge backpack and a rifle) needed when dropped into the flat and boggy fields around Arnhem was a folding bicycle to make him an even easier target for the waiting German machine gunners. Hence, large numbers of these The Parabike – it may never have seen action machines ended up being ridden in non-combat situations, behind the lines and on military bases. Many were sold off for civilian use after the war. The Parabike was significant, however, because it made the general public aware of the concept of folding bicycles. It was also quite elegant and at least five different companies have produced derivatives, not all of which folded.

A Glimpse of the Future

…the last thing a paratrooper needed… was a folding bicycle to make him an even easier target…

During the Second World War, Cycling magazine gave a glimpse of the future when in 1942 it reviewed Le Petit Bi. Designed by A.J. Marcelin of Paris in the late 1930s, this was probably the first small-wheeled, open-framed, unisex, folding bike-in-a-bag brought into the UK. It was allegedly made in steel and aluminium versions, solo and tandem.The original solo version had a squat triangulated non-folding frame, the size reduction being achieved by elegant folding handlebars and a long telescopic seat tube.The machine could be parked vertically, for instance in a wardrobe, standing on its rear pannier rack.

Le Petit Bi seems to have achieved a certain cachet with intellectuals: the philosopher Sartre and the artist Picabia were both photographed riding it. A post-war version incorporated a frame hinge, making it even more compact when folded.There is no evidence that Le Petit Bi was sold in the UK but it seems to have had some early post- war influence on the Continent and in Japan. In the late 1940s, the Japanese cycle trade sent a research mission to Europe seeking ideas to copy. By 1953, the Silk Road cycle company was selling its Road Puppy small-wheeled folder in Singapore. It is probably no coincidence that the Road Puppy was similar to the post-war version of Le Petit Bi.

The Moulton Revolution

Forty years ago, in November 1962, the Moulton was launched, and saved the British cycle industry, whose sales had been plummeting for years. Although most Moultons were not portables, the Stowaway models were and proved a milestone in portable cycle design. Before the Stowaway, portable cycles only occasionally came onto the UK market and there had never been a successful small-wheeled portable. Since the Stowaway, there have always been small-wheeled portables on sale in the UK.Through licensing deals, the Moulton Stowaway was sold by Huffman in the USA, Raleigh in South Africa, Malvern Star in Australia and Jonas Oglaend in Norway. Alex Moulton worked with the Dunlop tyre and rim company, pioneering the adaptation and development of existing juvenile wheel formats (most notably the traditional 16×13/8″ British format) for adult use, using specially made rims and tyres.This ISO 349mm size went on to be used by Bickerton, Brompton, Airframe, Micro and others, and remains a key tyre size today.You can now buy high performance 16″ tyres from Primo, Schwalbe and Brompton – before the Moulton, all you could buy in this size were tyres designed for use on toy bicycles.

Moulton, whose design had been dropped by Raleigh shortly before they were due to mass-produce it, rapidly became the second biggest single-brand cycle maker in the UK. Competitors fought back with rival small-wheelers but could not cost-effectively circumvent Moulton’s patents to produce a bike with the key combination of 16″ high- pressure narrow- section tyres and dual suspension. So most adopted a compromise based on 20″ wheels, sometimes with semi-balloon tyres.

The Dawes Kingpin range was one of the first of these and included a separable model and a folder.The separable was soon dropped, but the folder remained in production for almost 25 years – the longest run of any British small-wheeled folder thus far. (Although Brompton look set to eclipse this record in the not too distant future.)

…The Stowaway… proved a milestone in portable cycle design.

While Raleigh tried to negotiate back the production rights to the Moulton, they competed with its inventor by launching the infamous but commercially successful RSW16 small-wheeler range. This used 2″ wide 16″ diameter balloon tyres. In 1965, a folding version, the RSW Compact was launched. One of its designers was John Dolphin, who during World War 2 designed the folding Welbike moped for the UK Special Operations  Executive. (SOE’s mission was to ‘setEurope ablaze’ via bigger when folded… ‘ungentlemanly warfare’.) Certainly the RSW Compact was built like a tank, weighing 7lb more than the Moulton Stowaway. Strangely, it seemed to get bigger when folded. It never sold well and was deleted from the Raleigh range in 1968.

By that time, Raleigh had bought the original Moulton bicycle company.The greatest result of the ensuing Moulton-Raleigh collaboration was the Moulton Mk3.This was similar to the earlier Moultons but with stronger, triangulated rear suspension. It was not sold in portable form but in 1969, Alex Moulton made a few Stowaway versions based on Mk3 prototypes. One of these, known as the Moulton Marathon, was specially built for Colin Martin who in 1970 rode it from England to Australia. He was probably the first cyclist to complete a major intercontinental ride on a portable cycle.

Photos and illustrations courtesy of Tony Hadland, Nigel Sadler, Harlow Cycle Museum Part 2 follows in A to B 34. 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 (www.hadland.net)

Most of the serious folding bike designs have gone out of production at some point: Brompton, Micro, Strida, Microbike, and so on, but the majority have subsequently returned. Some, like Peter Radnall’s little Micro, have performed the feat twice, but all – with the exception of the Swedish (then Japanese) Microbike – remain in production at the time of writing.

Until late September, the Airframe seemed to be the exception. Conceived by Wimbledon architect Grahame Herbert in 1978, the Airframe went into limited production a few years later, but just about everything went wrong, and the project rapidly foundered.

For 15 years, this unusual bike was largely forgotten, but our story in 1996 (see Folder 19 & 20) helped to rekindle an interest, and Grahame went on to re-design the machine, eventually finding an engineering company with the will and the know-how to produce it. Now, after a further six years, a small production run has commenced.

A great deal has changed in a quarter of a century. On the positive side, production techniques have improved, making this innovative but complex light alloy machine more practical. On the other hand, the folding bike market has come a long way too…The commuter side of things is now dominated by the Brompton, and the Brentford company will take a lot of shifting from that top slot. In the 20-inch market, Dahon’s machines look conventional, but they’re lighter, faster and cheaper in relative terms than their 1980s equivalents. Competition is even fiercer at the sporty end, with Bike Friday, Birdy, Airnimal and others fighting for sales. In short, the market that was new and exciting in the early 1980s is much more sophisticated, and any newcomers or returnees will have to fight hard to survive. Does the Airframe have what it takes?

Airframe

The Airframe is quite unlike any other bicycle, owing more to structural engineering than transport machinery, which is what one might expect from an architect designer. The best way to visualise the frame is as a group of three triangles, with the usual cycle paraphernalia – wheels, cranks and chains – bolted to the extremities.The triangles look similar to a traditional diamond frame, but the principle is completely different, because almost every joint is hinged, enabling the triangles to fold into long thin triangles when the seat tube is lifted up. In use, the rider’s weight passes down through the seat-tube, transferring the load into the two top tubes, which try to make the wheels do the splits.They can’t, because the bottom tubes are in tension, holding the wheelbase and bracing the bottom bracket. In theory, the more weight applied at the top; the more the bike tries to do the splits; the more tension in the bottom tubes; and the more rigid the machine becomes.

Conventional aluminium frames can end up surprisingly heavy because aluminium – although light – is liable to flex and fail unless produced in thick (ie rigid) sections. In a conventional frame, there’s lots of stress around the frame joints, made worse because they’re usually welded. On the Airframe, flexible joints are able to ‘give’, so bending and twisting doesn’t really occur in the tubes, and there are few stress-raising welds. Consequently, the bike is constructed of very light tubing.

All dastardly clever, but don’t expect a bicycle that’s rigid in the traditional sense.You don’t so much ride an Airframe over the landscape, as ooze through it, gently rolling with the lumps and bumps rather than fighting against them.You might not fancy a bike that goes with the flow, particularly if you have memories of the Bickerton, but the result is a surprisingly sporty beast that rides as well as some suspended machines. Clearly an element of ‘give’ brings compensations.

…the gears are a bit disappointing for such a sporty machine…

Riding

The first, and rather unnerving, impression is that the pedals are loose in the cranks. Once you’ve got off and ascertained that they aren’t, it begins to dawn that that gentle creak was the crank assembly moving, and far from being a problem, it’s all part of the fun.

Now, as any frame builder will tell you, these sort of movements are not conducive to efficient power transmission, but the Airframe certainly feels efficient, climbing hills at least as well as the Brompton, even with the rider standing out of the saddle. All very strange, particularly as the bars are pretty flexible too.The handlebar stem, by the way, appears to harbour one of the few places where twisting forces might cause problems – we’d guess the kink just above the headset was the weakest point.

Get over the wayward bottom bracket and unexpectedly good hill-climbing, and sooner or later you’ll hit a nasty bump.Those used to small-wheeled bikes with high pressure tyres (100psi Schwalbe Marathons in this case) will know exactly what to expect, but the Airframe is different. Even at maximum tyre pressure, you can hit an unexpected 4cm kerb at speed and live to tell the tale.With a little less pressure in the tyres, the bike simply floats over obstacles, dissipating the shock. Less serious road furniture such as gratings and man-hole covers disappear completely.

We’ve criticised suspension in the past for being too hard, too soft, or – most annoyingly of all – under-damped.The Airframe does very well without any suspension… The downside is unwelcome lateral twisting and bending in the frame joints. It is possible to ride an Airframe fast and point it with a surprising degree of precision down switchback roads, but this sort of entertainment is not for the faint-hearted.

The gears are a bit disappointing for such a sporty machine, but we’re glad Airframe opted for hub gearing.There are few suitable hubs around at the moment, so the company has made do with the Nexus 4- speed.This unit can run with silky smoothness, but it’s hard to adjust, relatively inefficient and lacking in gear range. Our pre-production bike (by no means the final spec, incidentally) offered gears of 43″ (on the high side), 53″, 64″ and 78″ (on the low side).That 184% range is similar to the 3- speed Brompton, but rather less than the 215% offered by the Brompton 6-speed. Ironically, that bike’s close ratio hub/derailleur system might have suited the Airframe better than the Brompton, but there we are.

Tyres are Schwalbe Marathons – not as fast as the Brompton tyre (a slightly disappointing 14mph on our test-hill), but safe, comfortable and probably the best all-rounder.

The riding position is sportier than most folding bikes, with a saddle set well back and low bars. If you’re more used to a touring bike, and have rejected the Brompton for its upright stance, this will be more to your liking. For more services that will be more to your liking, visit https://myamericanmaid.com/. The saddle height is adjustable from a rather high 87cm to 101cm, but the bars are less helpful, moving only a couple of centimetres around the 95cm mark. You wouldn’t get a short person on our Airframe, while those in the six foot region found the saddle OK but the bars a bit low.

So much for sporting around on your lonesome. Like most folders, we’d guess the Airframe will spend much of its life in a commuter situation. For luggage carrying, you either fold the rear rack up against your briefcase and bungee it to the seat tube, or drop the briefcase in the carry-bag, clip the bag to the saddle rails, and tuck the rack up behind, with or without bungee according to taste.

It’s hard to resist making comparisons with the Brompton’s pricey, but super-duper commuter pannier system.The Airframe arrangements are nothing like as clever and nothing like as quick, but well up to commuting with a single small hard case and/or a bit of loose shopping on the way home – let’s say half a dozen oranges, a bottle of wine, two litres of milk, and a tin of dog food. Any more and the bag rolls and sways, catching your ankles and threatening to spill its precious cargo.

The bag isn’t very stylish either. In terms of street-cred (or 7.15-to-the-city-cred in commuter-terms) the Airframe looks super-sexy and the briefcase holder is stylish in a 007 sort of way, but the carry-bag has as much sex appeal as a deflated balloon.You’ll lovingly unfold the bike where everyone can see, march purposefully out of the station and fit the bag round the corner.

Let’s face it, the Airframe is not really a machine for carrying things on. It’s as sensuous, highly strung – and (arguably) as rewarding – as a racehorse.Without exception, the Airframe’s bright alloy tubing and CNC-machined pastel-anodised bits and pieces drew admiring glances and comments.The anodised bits come in pastel pink or blue – both very fetching, but watch what you wear or you’ll be upstaged by your wheels.

Folding

…we found it a more practical package than the Birdy, and easier to fold too…

Some would say this was the Airframe’s strongest suit… others would not know where to begin.The bike starts with an advantage over almost everything else on the market: it’s light – not spectacularly light, but comfortably lighter than most.The Airframe weighs 10.5kg (23.1lb) – against 11kg for a comparable Birdy, and 11.4 to 12.3kg for the Brompton. Only the Brilliant Micro can match the Airframe for weight, but that’s not really in the same performance league.

Weight isn’t everything of course. A folding bike needs to fold quickly, easily and – most important of all in the long run – repeatably. The weakness with the Airframe is that despite Teflon shims, the joints are pretty stiff, making folding a chore, and it never seems to produce the same package twice. It’s also one of those three-handed jobs.

First, twiddle the front wheel through 180 degrees until the cables start to complain, then push the bike backwards with the rear brake applied, whilst lifting the saddle. If all goes according to plan and you avoid catching a finger, the frame magically concertinas upwards.Assuming you’ve got this most difficult bit out of the way, you’ll be ready to rotate the safety catch, lift the locking plate and swing the handlebars down either side of the frame. Finally, and rather satisfyingly, you lift a sleeve, allowing the saddle stem to flop down against the package, then fold in the rear rack, which clips rather vaguely to the stem, holding everything together.

The Airframe also has folding pedals, but as conventional pedals barely protrude from the package, we wonder whether they’re worth all the trouble. Our pre-production bike came with Wellgo FP4s – possibly the worst folding pedal ever designed.We’d suggest specifying the excellent Next pedals on the production bikes.

If you’re intending to bag it up, folding can takes minutes rather than seconds, partly because you’re never quite sure how easily the bike will fit the bag. In practice, we found ourselves leaving the bag at home.The folded Airframe is long, but looks techy enough to earn the respect of most railway guards, although we wouldn’t venture onto a bus without the bag. Generally speaking, we found it a more practical package than the Birdy, and easier to fold too.

Folded volume is a very reasonable 180 litres, or 6.4 cubic feet in groats and spleens. Production bikes will be fitted with a quick release front wheel, reducing the length of the package to 92cm, and bringing the volume down to 162 litres. If you can live without a front mudguard, the volume comes down to 122 litres or 4.3 cubic feet, which is well into seriously compact territory. But removing wheels is a grubby, time-consuming task.Worth it, apparently, if you’re hoping to put an Airframe in the boot of the ‘new’ Mini.

…Chelsea or Cannes – anywhere style has greater significance than practicality…

Without bolting and unbolting things, you have a package that occupies about twice as much space as a Brompton, and a little more than the Birdy. In practical terms, it fits behind the seat backs on the train, or lengthways in a spacious luggage rack, but it won’t go sideways, and it won’t even think about fitting into one of those dinky little luggage shelves on the Class 158 or 159 (only provincial Brompton commuters will understand this one).

What you can do is place the bagged package on the overhead racks.We should qualify this, because racks vary in size, and many people simply can’t lift 10.5kg over their heads.Worth knowing though, especially if you can find a big strong man to do it for you.

Conclusion

With its dishy looks, comfy ride, and wayward behaviour, the Airframe is a bike you’ll either love or hate. Price-wise, it slots neatly between the pricier 6-speed Bromptons and the fairly basic Birdy Red. Its only real weakness in this company is the lack of gears, but that won’t be a problem if you’re commuting somewhere flat. In other words, it will go down a wow in Chelsea or Cannes – anywhere style has greater significance than practicality.

Will it succeed? The market is awash with folders at the moment, but there’s probably room for another bike as unusual as this one.The interesting question is who will buy it and why? Will women choose the Airframe for its light weight, sporty looks and colour co-ordinated bits? Or is this 20-something sporty male territory?

Specification

Airframe £650
Weight 10.5kg (23.1lb)
Folded Dimensions W32cm H55cm L103cm
Folded volume 181 ltrs (6.4 cu ft)
Dimensions (less front wheel) W32cm H55cm L92cm, (less front wheel and mudguard) W32cm H45cm L85cm
Gears Shimano Nexus 4-spd hub
Ratios 43″ 53″ 64″ 78″
Saddle height 87-102cm
Tyres Schwalbe Marathon 37 x349mm
Manufacturer Silkmead Tubular Ltd
tel 01582 609988
mail silkmead@btinternet.com

Ever experienced the classic cyclist’s nightmare? The one where no matter how hard you pedal, the horizon gets further and further away? Buy a Gekko and you’ll have a unique opportunity to experience the night terror for real.

Play fair, A to B! Surely you can’t compare the Gekko to a proper bike? But why not? Brompton, Birdy, Bike Friday and Dahon… they’re folding bikes too, but they either stand against conventional bikes or fall by the wayside.The problem for the Gekko is that folders with 16-18 inch wheels have got ever so good – both at folding and riding.

The Gekko

The Gekko was designed and refined over a period of ten years by Australian Jamie Herder. As so often happens, the aluminium prototype (known as the Ant) looked good and reportedly weighed less than 10kg. No doubt it rode well too.The production version, made by Tsan Ching somewhere in the Far East, is a very different animal – the componentry is poor, the bike is ‘orrible to look at, and – most damningly – it’s ‘orribly ‘eavy too.The steel frame is over-complex, and if you care to factor in a forged bottom bracket, steel side-stand, large coil-sprung saddle (quite unnecessary with balloon tyres), you wind up with a tiny bike weighing 15kg (33lb). It’s the heaviest machine we’ve tested since the Skoot in April 2001, and that ceased production soon afterwards, but please, we really shouldn’t take all the credit for that.

you stand a good risk of getting mown down by pedestrians…

Why is weight such a problem with folding bikes? By definition, these machines get carried a good deal and – believe us – every atom counts if, for example, you’re humping a bike from Platform 1 to Platform 13 at Birmingham New Street.

The typical weight for a good (ie, multi-speed, comfortable, fast) folding bike is somewhere between 10kg and 12kg.That’s a great deal easier to manoeuvre than 15kg, and of course, you’re riding a better bicycle when you unfold it. The second catch with the Gekko, as with the Skoot, is that it’s a single speed machine, with gearing, in this case, of 41 inches. That means an ankle twirling top whack of around 8mph, at which speed you stand a real risk of getting mown down by pedestrians in a busy city. It’s all made a good deal worse by 121/2 inch 30psi tyres with the rolling characteristics of damp putty.

Yes, the rolling resistance leaves much to be desired, although it could have been a lot better had we been able to fine-tune the tyre pressures. We managed to adjust the front tyre (this wheel has a sensible tally of 16 spokes), but space is at such a premium in the rear wheel (28 spokes), that we couldn’t find a pump that would reach the valve. Fitting twenty-eight spokes to a 12-inch wheel might sound like overkill, but 28-spoke hubs are common on childrens bikes, so they’re easy to source and cheap…

Our rolling resistance figure came out at 10.1mph, which is jolly good, all things considered, suggesting that 12- inch tyres (even 30psi ones) can be viable. But that sort of figure has to be compared with the results from the ‘real’ folding bikes, where even the 16-inch Brompton manages 14mph or more these days. So if you buy a Gekko you’ll not only be hampered by a cruising speed of 8mph on the flat, but you’ll suffer a 30% reduction in downhill speed too. Hill climbing is even worse, because the frame flexes like mad under load, and the saddle height is limited to 94cm, which is simply too low for most people. Clearly this bike is seriously challenged against the opposition.

…Walking has much to recommend it, at a minuscule cost in shoe leather…

Folding

Maybe the smaller wheels allow it to fold smaller? Er, no.The Gekko hits the same brick wall that has stopped numerous folding bike designs in their tracks since the Brompton achieved a folded volume of three cubic feet. It might be improved on tomorrow, next year or in a future century, but then it might not, because below 20 inches, wheel size has little to do with folded size: the deciding factor is the frame, and it’s very difficult to make a full-size frame fold smaller than three cubic feet, sorry, 85 litres.

To fold the Gekko, the handlebars pull out and drop down, the saddle stem drops (but not very far) and with a safety pin removed, the frame sort of concertinas up in the middle, bringing the sticky-out bits together. Not that close together as it happens, because the final volume is 6.1 cubic feet – not as big as we’d feared, but much too bulky for the bike’s folding ability to be viewed as a saving grace.

Conclusion

According to trendy bike-bits impresario Simon Goude, who is apparently helping to market the machine in the UK, ‘The Gekko is very sturdy and rides well with a big bike feel…’ Pardon? He must be joking.

The Next folding pedals (standard on the Dahon range) are very good, and the V- brakes were a pleasant surprise. Oh, and we liked the dinky little alloy rims and the short but substantial rack, that will carry a friend if you have the muscles and the nerve (wheelies are an ever-present risk). Otherwise, for £250 the bike has absolutely no redeeming features. If speed is not a priority, a good micro-scooter costs a lot less, covers ground at much the same rate, and folds smaller and quicker. Come to that, walking has much to recommend it, at a minuscule cost in shoe leather.

If you want the speed and stability of a bicycle, the 3-speed Brilliant Micro costs about the same as the Gekko and folds to the same volume, but rides twice (yes, twice) as fast and weighs only 10.5kg. If folded size is less critical, that hard-earned £250 will buy a Philips (Dahon) Boardwalk, offering 20-inch stability, double the speed, etc, etc. The Gekko is billed as a trendy accessory for trendy young urbanites. If you happen to be such a thing, and you hanker after something a bit more stylish than a run-of-the- mill Brompton, take our advice and save up for the Panasonic Traincle – titanium frame,14- inch wheels, compact fold and a gorgeous little feather-weight at just 6.8kg (15lb).

Next please.

Specification

Gekko £250 Weight 15kg (33lb) Tyres 203mm Folded volume 235 litres (6.1 cu ft) UK Distributor Gablemere Ltd tel 01905 779922 mail jwallis@gablemere.co.uk

It’s hard to tell where Riese & Müller are coming from with the Frog. Is this a serious attempt to create a commuter version of the popular and surprisingly long-legged Birdy? Or are they just having a bit of a laugh? And if so, at who’s expense?

The Frog is broadly similar to the Birdy, featuring an alloy frame and full suspension: elastomer at the rear and coil sprung leading link jobby on the front. But around about there the similarity ends.

The Birdy is equipped with largish 18-inch wheels, but the little Frog wears 12-inch rubber…Yes, that’s right, the same size as the Gekko.The Frog also has a tiny frame, with two stage seat tube and single stage handlebar stem adjustment.The disadvantage of this sort of arrangement is that you wind up with a bike that’s taller than it is long, with the saddle almost over the rear wheel and an 87cm wheelbase.Yes, it’s prone to wheelies.

Another key difference from the Birdy is in the gearing – the Frog features a very sensible 3-speed Nexus hub controlled by a SRAM gripshifter, whereas the Birdy has derailleur gears – both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness.You need to fold the bike in the right gear to avoid the chain wreaking all sorts of havoc – consequently, olding the hub-geared Frog is a bit easier.

…simple, but effective design features, including a height chart etched into the stem…

Giving a folding bicycle a small frame is not necessarily the panacea it might appear.  Unless you’re designing a machine exclusively for midgets, you need an awful lot of quick release levers and telescopic sliding tubes to get an adult on board. As a result, the little Frog is not as light as it appears: 10.4kg or 22.9lb – lighter than the ‘full-size’ Birdy, but not by very much.

The good news is oodles of adjustability.The saddle can be positioned anywhere from 58cm to 109cm above the ground, which should suit anyone from a very small boy (yes, Alexander had a go) to the world’s tallest man. Unfortunately, the handlebars are nowhere near as adaptable, so the small boy can’t reach them and the world’s tallest man would be delving around between his knees. But for 99% of the adult population, it’s fine.

Incidentally, both stems features some simple, but very effective design features – height is fixed by conventional quick release levers, but there are fail-safe detent buttons too.These pop into preset holes in the stem, so if (for example) the quick release gets knocked off, the bars shouldn’t come off in your hands. Another feature of the ‘why didn’t we think of that?’ kind is a ruler etched into the saddle stem. Simply dial in your fave personal number and all should be well.

On the Road

The first sensation is of a certain waywardness at the front end which feels like impending catastrophe, but there’s nothing wrong, just a side-effect of 12-inch wheels… For town use the gearing is just about right at 35″, 48″ and 65″.The bottom gear is effectively limited by that short wheelbase – any lower and you’d be straight over the back. Even in second gear, it’s all too easy to lift the front wheel, which almost brought disaster ten minutes into our test.

Rolling resistance is poor in comparison to ‘proper’ bikes, but miraculous by 12-inch standards.The Schwalbe Marathon tyres are rated at 65psi, although we never managed to ride at these pressures because a conventional pump wouldn’t fit on the back (shades of Gekko here) and when the front tyre is fully inflated it rubs on the mudguard. But even with “…a fun-loving giant in a a degree of squidge in the tyres, the bike rolls fashionable city with no drop- quite well. A Birdy or Brompton would be out kerbs and lots of cobbles…” of sight, but against other micro-folders the Frog is in a performance category all its own.

The best bit is the suspension.This is broadly similar to the Birdy, but the effect of the long travel suspension, squidgy tyres and short wheelbase is a remarkably soft and compliant ride.The Frog can be ridden down kerbs half as high as its wheels with surprisingly little drama.We were a bit more reticent about riding up the same kerb, but 5cm is no great problem. Cobbles… what cobbles? Ride across the sort of surface that would shake a Brompton owner’s false teeth out, and there’s little sensation.The downside of all this suppleness is a slightly rice-puddingy feel. Push hard on the left pedal and the Frog squirts to the right; pull hard on the bars and the front wheel paws the air. If you do both at the same time almost anything is possible.

As fun products go, the Frog does rather well in the accessory department – Next folding pedals, practical mudguards, a side stand and one of those horrible saddles with a row of LEDs underneath. As far as we can judge, the Froglet comes in any colour you like, as long as it’s slimy green.

Folding

Even for a novice, the Frog is easier to fold than the Birdy, taking about 20 seconds or so.The finished package measures 62cm long by 49.5cm tall and 32cm wide.That’s a volume of 98 litres. In old-speak that’s 3.5 cubic feet: smaller than anything except the Brompton, which is taller than the Frog, but shorter and narrower.There are a few wayward cables, and the package only ‘sort of’ locks together, but folding remains pretty impressive.

Conclusion

You might have a particular reason for wanting a Frog.We reckon the ideal purchaser would be a fun-loving giant in a fashionable city with no drop-kerbs and lots of cobbles. Sounds like John Grimshaw. If you don’t run a cycle path charity, it really depends how potty you are – a Brompton C3 is half the price and eminently more sensible, while a Birdy Red offers a better ride and safer handling for just a few quid more.

What these dry, sensible options don’t offer is a sense of fun.The Frog has fun in abundance, and if you still think it’s funny after parting with £720, it’s definitely the bicycle for you.

But where this super-adjustable, stylish and funky little machine should excel is as a pool bike in the sort of office where the Brompton is regarded as deeply uncool and the Birdy as much too complicated. Poor loves.

Specification

Frog £720
Weight 10.4kg (22.9lb)
Gears Nexus 3-spd hub
Ratios 35″ 48″ 65″
Folded dimensions W32cm H49.5cm L62cm
Folded volume 98 litres (3.5 cu ft)
Tyres Schwalbe Marathon 54-203mm
Manufacturer Riese & Müller tel +49 6151 366 860
Initial UK stockist Avon Valley Cyclery tel 01225 442442 mail info@bikeshop.uk.com

Forget metric – when describing folding bikes, the cognoscenti usually resort to the imperial wheel size, as in: ‘8-inch folders are rubbish’, ‘16-inch folders are compact’, or ‘20- inch folders are faster on the road’, etc, etc. As a general rule, if you’re looking for out and out performance, you’ll need a 20-inch, or more accurately 406mm (or occasionally 451mm) folder.The really sporty 20- inch machines are mostly ‘demountable’, taking apart for air travel, although they usually include a quick-fold feature as well.

Thanks presumably to the airline connection, this market is dominated by US companies, such as Bike Friday, Gaerlan, and PBW, with a solitary Union Jack being waved by Airnimal.

We tested a PBW Road Bike back in A to B 20. Although nominally available in Road, Trekking (like Road, but with flat bars) or MTB versions, in practice you can mix-and- match just about any components you like – one of the advantages of dealing with a small manufacturer.Thus time we’re looking at one of the most expensive variants – a Trekking model with front and rear suspension and 14-speed Rohloff hub.

Like most high-tech US folders, PBWs are custom-made, so if you order one, it’s guaranteed to fit.The custom-built machine arrives with an adjustable stem – during your first weeks of ownership, you fiddle around with this until you’re comfortable, mail your vital statistics back to PBW, and the company makes you a personal stem. Now isn’t that a good idea?

PBWs start at under $1,000 in the US, but thanks to the bits and pieces, ours costs a rather weighty $2,500, or close to £2,500 including duty,VAT and delivery to the UK.

The Rohloff

The Rohloff Speedhub is an interesting beast if you like that sort of thing.The German manufacturer started life producing bicycle chains and other components before taking the brave step of developing, building and marketing a unique 14-speed hub in 1998. An astonishingly complex bit of engineering, the Speedhub offers a number of advantages over more conventional gears: Firstly, the ratios are evenly spread, so the 14- speed hub offers a similar range and flexibility to a typical 27-speed derailleur system. Without a derailleur, there’s (usually) no need for a chain tensioner, so ground clearance is not compromised (particularly important with small wheels), and with the moving parts safely sealed in an oil bath, life expectancy should be more or less infinite.That’s fortunate, because the key disadvantage is a price tag of around £600 in the UK. According to Rohloff, there’s no weight penalty, because at 1.7kg, the Speedhub is similar in weight to most 7-speed hubs and the complete system is only 200g heavier than a comparable derailleur.

A little more controversial is the question of efficiency. Rohloff claims a figure of 95-98%, but independent research (see A to B 27) suggests a figure closer to 90- 91%. Rohloff later telephoned to offer some complex counter- arguments that we simply can’t go into here. Suffice to say, they disputed the figures.

What do we think? We’d say there was some loss of efficiency over a well-maintained derailleur or a simple 3-speed hub, but it’s certainly no worse than a typical 7-speed and smoother than some.The hub does exhibit quite a bit of drag though, and it’s enough to spin the pedals when coasting.This might explain why the PBW managed only 14.1mph descending our test hill. For a 20-inch bike wearing 32 x 406mm Schwalbe City Marathon tyres, that’s on the low side, suggesting that there’s enough drag to take the edge off fast descents.

Riding a Rohloff-equipped bike for the first time is a strange experience.The gears click smoothly in and out of engagement as one might expect, but if you start at the bottom and work your way up, they seem to go on for ever.With a total range in excess of 500%, the Rohloff really does offer a gear for every eventuality, and unlike a 3×9 speed derailleur, you can find the right cog by turning a single twistgrip, although the change is a bit heavy and notchy.

Unusually, the twistgrip is linked to the hub by twin operating cables, rather than a single cable and return spring like most hubs.When you change up, one cable pulls the hub into gear while the other trails – and visa versa when you change back down. Another unusual feature is that the ‘detent’ notches are in the hub itself, so it’s impossible for the cable to go out of adjustment and try to engage, for example, gear 21/2.The cables will slacken with age, (there’s a tension adjustment to deal with that), but it won’t  miss a gear provided the cables move  reasonably freely.The rather stiff clicks you feel when turning the twistgrip are the gears actually engaging at the rear end.

…the hub starts quite smoothly, but becomes progressively rougher up to gear seven…

In practice, it is possible to provoke a slight graunch if you pedal too hard through the change, or do something equally clumsy, but as a general rule you top it up with oil, tighten the cables and forget it. Exactly as things should be.The only evidence that complicated things are happening in the hub is a slight difference in ‘feel’ between the gears. Looking at Rohloff’s charts and the independent efficiency figures, it turns out that this vague feeling is backed up by what’s actually happening inside the hub.

The Speedhub starts quite smoothly (and efficiently) in 1st gear, but becomes progressively rougher (and less efficient) up to gear seven. Thereafter a magic transformation takes place, because gears eight and nine are silky smooth and amongst the best efficiency wise, but engage the bigger numbers and it’s downhill all the way to top, where things get relatively rough again.

In practice, changes can usually be made under load, but that transition change from rough seven to smooth eight and back takes special care. After a bit of practice, you begin to treat the gears as two separate blocks of seven. Pass between them too rapidly, or while pedalling, and the hub tries to engage seven and eight simultaneously. Ouch! What we don’t know, after an acquaintance of only a few weeks, is whether the components would eventually ‘run-in’, making things smoother.

According to Rohloff’s technical literature, the hub contains three epicyclic gear sets, with the individual ratios making use of one, two or all three of these sets, with direct drive in gear 11. Obviously the more cogs that are involved, the rougher and less efficient the result, although strangely enough, we rated gears eight and nine smoother than gear 11 (direct drive) even though they both use a single epicyclic set.

Are we being ultra-critical? Well, we’d be a lot less demanding if the hub cost fifty quid rather than 500, because the last thing we want is for you to fork out a year’s savings and be disappointed.To sum up, the Speedhub is no doubt capable of running for a lifetime with no more maintenance than a few drops of sewing machine oil once in a full moon, but if you’re the sensitive type who insists on a sewing machine ‘feel’, you might find cause to grumble.

On the PBW, the ratios are close to perfection – evenly spaced between 19″ and 97″. A shade low perhaps, but few cyclists would argue with that sort of range.The only real disappointment is the graunchy change between eight and seven.With ratios of 45 and 40 inches you’ll be making this change whenever a moderate hill turns into a steep one, and this slow change doesn’t help. But, to be fair, derailleurs suffer from all manner of awkward changes too.The Rohloff has just the one fault.

It’s widely accepted that Americans have softer bottoms than Europeans…

Suspension

It’s widely accepted that Americans have softer bottoms than Europeans.Why else would they design such things as Harley-Davidsons, Cadillacs and floaty air suspension units on bicycles? British derrieres, honed by suspension-free Mini Coopers, unsprung bicycles and indifferent furniture, are made of sterner stuff. OK, that ignores such unsprung US products as the Bike Friday, and softly-softly Brit offerings, like the elegant Moulton… But there seems to be a general hard/soft divide.

All PBWs feature Cane Creek air suspension at the rear with the option of Ballistic elastomer forks at the front.The rear suspension is really little more than an air reservoir – the pressure can be adjusted, but there’s no damping adjustment. In fact, there’s no damping at all, other than friction in the mechanism, although pricier units are available, offering various levels of sophistication. If you have a decent pump with a Schraeder valve, it’s possible to set the pressure, but beyond 120psi or thereabouts, the unit locks up completely, presumably due to internal friction. So the choice is either a relatively soft wallowy ride, or dead firm. If you’re not used to pedalling smoothly, you should choose the latter, because an aggressive pedalling style with low air pressure simply makes the back of the bike pogo up and down.

The front elastomers are controlled by a pair of rather vague adjusters that appear to add stiction as you twiddle. In practice, we set them soft when the rear was soft, and sticky when the rear was rock hard.

We wouldn’t dare say anything clever about spring rates or rebound damping because we couldn’t detect such niceties – just soft or hard. On ‘soft’, the bike will go places 32x406mm tyres were never intended to go without tripping over the boulders, and on ‘hard’ you can pedal any way you like without bouncing out of the saddle. It’s nice to have the choice, but we’re not convinced we’d want to pay much extra for it.

Folding

If you’re used to dismantling the bigger, sportier kind of folding bike, you’ll love the PBW, but if you’re expecting Brompton-style performance, you’ll be disappointed. It’s actually quite similar to the Brompton – even sharing the same frame hinge.The frame folds to the right, the rear triangle underneath and the saddle stem locks it all together, but it’s a much sloppier performance and you have to remove the stem and strap it to both wheels before you can walk away. That said, the PBW is quicker than the Bike Friday – and arguably easier than the Birdy in Not some respects, thanks to its constant chain the length.The end result measures 84cm x 83cm x neatest 38cm or 265 litres, which in good old imperial equates package in the world, but at 265 litres, the PBW to just over 9 cubic feet. As the suspension forks add a packs small for this class of bike bit of width, and a left-hand folding pedal would help, our figures should be treated as a worst case scenario. Not bad for such a sophisticated package.The bike is also designed to fit inside a case measuring 74cm x 56cm x 28cm with the removal of a few bits.

Weight, at 13.4kg (30lb), would be enough to put some people off, but that’s the downside of suspendy bits and 14-speed hubs.The basic PBW is not a heavy machine.

Conclusion

We like the PBW. It represents a good compromise between foldability and performance, neatly filling the gap between the Birdy and the Bike Friday. What’s more, PBW is a small outfit, so you can expect personal and helpful service. Our conclusions on the Rohloff were less clear – we think there are too many gears, they’re too close together, and of variable quality. It’s a great idea, but the consensus was that a smaller, lighter, wide ratio seven speed hub would be better.

Suspension? It’s nice on a mountain bike, and jolly useful on a utility get-to-work bike, road surfaces being what they are, but we like our sporty bikes lightweight, lithe and simple.We would certainly put a PBW on our shortlist, but we’d keep it simple and go for one of the cheaper models.

Specification

PBW Road Bike $2,495
Weight 13.4kg (30lb)
Folded dimensions W38cm H83cm L 84cm
Folded Volume 265 litres (9 cu ft)
Gears Rohloff 14-spd hub
Ratios 19” to 97” (in even steps)
Brakes Cane Creek V-brakes + SRAM 7.0 levers
Tyres Schwalbe City Marathon 32-406mm
Front Suspension Ballistic forks (polymer)
Rear Suspension Cane Creek AD5 (air filled)
Manufacturer PBW tel +1 530 566 9699 mail info@PBWbikes.com web www.pbwbikes.com

Dahon has come a long way from its pile-’em-high, sell-’em-cheap origins some 30 years ago. Early models were a bit spindly and heavy, and were viewed somewhat snootily in the UK as inferior Far Eastern imports. If you could afford it you bought a Bickerton, or later, a Brompton – if you couldn’t, or you were badly advised, you made do with a Dahon.

How things have changed! The Dahon name has risen inexorably in the last five years, and the company now produces a wide range of machines from modern versions of the pile-’em-high jobs (typically the Boardwalk and derivatives) to machines in the Birdy and Brompton class, with price tags to match.

The Taiwanese/US company specialises in 406mm (20-inch) wheeled bikes, and produces a big range (confusingly so for the uninitiated) featuring a seemingly endless variety of frames and specifications.We test them on a regular basis, giving the thumbs up to the cheepy Boardwalk back in June 2000, for example, but a much more equivocal reception to the expensive Jetstream eight months later.This rather sums up Dahon’s problem – it’s a mass-market manufacturer, very skilled at churning out good cheap bikes that do most things pretty well. But the company is now trying to build in the sort of quality needed to compete in the £500+ market.

This time we’re looking at the 2002 spec Helios. At £499, it has a fight on its hands, because it’s up against some powerful opposition: £459 buys the compact and very rideable Brompton L3 and £475 the stylish but undergeared Giant Halfway. But the real killer in the £500 zone is the Brompton L6, a newcomer at £524. For our money, this is one of the finest folding bikes around, so the Helios really needs to perform. Elsewhere, the vagaries of international pricing give a very different picture: In the USA, where the Brompton costs over $800 and the Helios $499, the tables are turned – the Dahon comes out cheaper in the Euro-zone too.

Gear ratios are close to ideal… nicely spaced and easy to use…

Put the 2002 Helios alongside a Shopper-style Dahon from the last decade and you’d be hard pressed to spot the family resemblance. That peculiar headset is long gone, along with some other strange and sometimes dubious components – the new bikes are stylish, well finished and distinctive. Specification is pretty good: Next folding pedals, Shimano Sora 8-speed derailleur, Promax V-brakes, side stand, full mudguards and a pair of strange Ritchey 20″x1.5″ tyres. Bolt this lot to a brushed aluminium frame and you have a package weighing 12.2kg (26.9lb) – that’s a kilogram lighter than the Boardwalk and 1.4kg lighter than the Jetstream. More importantly, it’s about the same as the Halfway or the Brompton.

The Helios is a striking machine with some unusual features. Note the ‘reversed’ handlebars and the bracing tube above the mainframe hinge

Gear ratios are close to ideal, with first at 33″, top at 90″ and six others dotted about in between, all nicely spaced and easy to use thanks to a gripshift changer.We’re not wildly fond of derailleurs on folding bikes, but with the Sora, Shimano seems to have cracked the range, price and performance equation. If the system continues to work as smoothly and reliably as it did in the first hundred miles or so, it has our vote.

Get over the concept of a folding bike with a working derailleur, and you’ll begin to appreciate that the new Helios is much more rigid than Dahons past. Quite why is unclear, because the stem and frame look much the same, but the company has obviously got its sums and equations right. One element that might play a role in beefing up the frame is the unusual hinge.The main frame hinges in a conventional manner, but there’s an extra bracing tube above, linking the front frame to the seat tube.This contains a joint directly above the hinge, but there’s no locking mechanism – just a cup and cone device to locate the two tubes.The rider’s weight plus any backward pressure on the handlebars, puts the tube in compression, so a catch isn’t required.The only time you feel the tubes move relative to each other is when pushing or lifting the bike – climb on board and the tubes engage rigidly together.This sort of design requires precise frame construction to work reliably – whether it continues to locate after a decade of abuse is hard to say, but the frame is certainly rigid when new.

…We’re used to slightly skittish bicycles, so no grumbles here…

Aluminium bikes can feel rather ‘dead’, but the Helios is both comfortable and lively, which left us scratching our heads all over again. Presumably the compliance comes from the tyres, which are wide and run at quite low pressures (65psi maximum). Handling is good, but this is not a laid back hands-off machine, like some 20-inch bikes. Given the wide tyres, we’d guess the slightly skittish nature of the bike comes from the strange handlebar design, which looks back-to-front and puts your hands just behind the steering axis.This looks peculiar at first, but you soon get acclimatised.

We’re used to slightly skittish bicycles, so no grumbles from us, but you might be buying a 20-inch bike because you want something stable, so you might disagree. For us, the overall effect of a rigid frame, comfortable ride and useful gear ratios is an entertaining and very useable bike that encourages the rider to press on.

The Promax brakes work perfectly well, or at least they would have done if they hadn’t been fighting against two of the wobbliest rims we’ve seen on a test bike.That’s bad news at this level, because if a customer forks out five hundred quid on a bike and finds the brakes are binding and juddering, he’s going to march straight back to the shop. And quite right too.We hope they sort it – there’s nothing wrong with the components, just poor quality control.

The tread on the Ritchey tyres (actually ‘Ritchie Rov’r’, a name that might have lost something in the translation) is rather unusual, with a multi-faceted diamond tread pattern that produces a gentle whistle on the road.This, according to the sidewall, is the result of Vector Analysis Tread Design. Better or worse than other designs? Who can say, but the tyres make an entertaining noise and seem perfectly safe.With a speed of 14.3mph on our test-hill, the Rov’rs roll quite well, but they’re not as free-running as some.You’d never guess on the road though – the generally lively stance of the Helios gives the impression that rolling resistance is pretty low.

Accessories

The bell makes a satisfactory noise, the mudguards guard against mud as and when required (although they rattle a bit, especially at the back), and the prop stand props.We liked the rack, which now comes with a conventional bungee, plus a useful bit of Velcro for holding the folded bike together and/or securing things to the rack.

The Helios has no lights, but there’s a mounting plate on the rack that should accommodate most common LED lights. If you fit one, you’ll have to move the mudguard-mounted reflector, which is high enough to obstruct a rear light.

Folding

The Dahon system has changed little over the years, but attention to detail makes folding much easier.The handlebars fold down to the left of the bike, the excellent Next pedals flick down in a second or two, the mainframe breaks in two and hinges to the left, sandwiching the bars between the two wheels. Finally, the stem drops down, but it doesn’t lock the package together, so you’ll need to use a bungee to keep everything from unravelling when you pick it up.

It all works particularly well and it’s certainly the quickest Dahon we’ve seen, going up or down in a consistent 15 to 17 seconds, provided the cables don’t snag on anything. However, this time does not include setting the saddle height or tying the package together with a bungee. In a realistic commuter situation, you’re probably looking at 30 seconds or more, but that sort of time would stand up well against anything except the Brompton or Strida.

The folded package is particularly neat, stands well on its road wheels, and at 12.2kg it’s easy to carry.The package measures 84cm x 66cm x 32cm, which equates to 177 litres, or 6.3 cubic feet if you prefer. In terms of volume, that’s twice as large as a folded Brompton, but one of the smallest and neatest fold-in-half bikes around.

Conclusion

Dahon must be congratulated.The 2002 Helios is classic Dahon, but the component package and design details have produced arguably one of the best machines of its type anywhere in the world: it’s light, easy to fold and – best of all – a joy to ride. Is it worth the money? It’s certainly worth $500 or E600, but we’re slightly less ecstatic about £500. All the same, it compares well with the Brompton and the Giant Halfway.The Brompton has the edge on portability and practical no- nonsense commuter features, while the Giant has a certain style… But, the Helios is probably the most long-legged of the three, making it the best choice for longer rides. It also folds rapidly enough to keep most commuters happy, and the folded package is about as small as 20-inch bikes get.

Specification

Ridgeback Helios £499 (also branded Dahon)
Weight 12.2kg (26.9lb)
Folded Dimensions W32cm H66cm L84cm
Folded Volume 177 litres (6.3cu ft)
Gears Shimano Sora 8-spd derailleur
Ratios 33″ – 90″
Brakes Promax V-brakes
Tyres Ritchey Rov’r 38-406mm
Manufacturer Dahon
web www.dahon.com UK web www.dahon.co.uk
UK distributor Madison tel 020 8385 3333