The salesman praises the 24 gears of the cheap gear system so that for a moment I think it's a world sensation.
A real multi-talent here in the DIY store. A moment ago he was explaining the mixing ratio of cement and water to a helpless DIY enthusiast, now he's rattling off the technical data for the mountain bike. I let the sales talk pass me by out of politeness. After all, I want to buy the bike anyway. "You're lucky, the handlebars are already fitted on the display model," I hear through the aisle as I finally push the Rex Bergsteiger 6.01 towards the till. My 436.48 euros disappear into the DIY store till - and I am faced with the biggest challenge that my job as a bike tester has ever given me.
Rex is the Latin word for king. Together with the model name "Bergsteiger", this results in a self-confident appearance. "We go steep" is emblazoned on the top tube. However, it is not entirely clear whether this is a touch of irony or a serious promise of performance. How much mountain bike is there in a hardware store hardtail for 436.48 euros? The reputation of these bikes is so bad that I get goose bumps when I think about tomorrow. The Ischgl Ironbike Marathon, the institution for sadistically inclined marathon racers, is to judge whether the DIY store vehicle can rightly call itself the "king of climbers". The 3,820 metres of altitude difference spread over just 79 kilometres and an impressive singletrail descent have brought many a bike, or its rider, to their knees.
The ultimate endurance test!
Shortly before 8 o'clock the next morning: the start area has already reached the limit of its capacity. 645 marathon runners gather around the inflatable arch. The nervous ones head for the green meadow to empty their bladders, while the pros let their tyres sing loudly on the rollers. It smells of muscle oil.
With a mixture of anticipation and unease, I make my way towards my starting block. The "king of climbers" barely stands out in the hustle and bustle. Perfectly colour-coordinated add-on parts and trendy 29er wheels are the perfect camouflage between all the expensive carbon bikes. The kickstand, mechanical disc brakes and the somewhat clunky 3x8 gears nevertheless provoke the odd puzzled look. As I finally push the unmasked cheap bike into the licence block, the whispering begins. But the starting gun is already ringing out.
I pedal frantically. But whoops! What was that? A loud crack, followed by a kick into the void. I hope the chain hasn't broken, I panic. A quick glance downwards gives the all-clear. The chain is still there. It looks like the gears just wanted to teach me a lesson. No shifting under load! Shimano's Altus drivetrain is probably a bit bitchier than current groupsets above SLX level. Never mind, onwards! The licence block is a tough battle. Every position counts, at least for the others. With every kilometre, I'm pushed further back. Fortunately, I have a good excuse ready. The test candidate doesn't do too badly over the first few metres. But it's not the flat gravel paths at the start of the route that give the Ironbike its tough reputation.
The ramps up to the Idjoch are a completely different story. The legendary climb has prevented many an Alpine crosser from making it to Switzerland. 1500 metres in altitude, 13 kilometres, 20 percent gradient in places. A beast of a mountain! The climb hasn't even really started when the climber is already running out of breath. And me too. You've seen the YouTube videos in which musclemen drag a tractor tyre behind them on iron chains. That's exactly how I feel as I try to book my almost 16-kilo DIY store bike over the Idjoch. Electronic Di2 gears whir around me. I'm already in the lowest gear. The largest sprocket on my cassette has just 28 teeth. That was the order of the day in the early nineties.
The last few metres to the mountain station, the highest point of the marathon, are so steep that hardly anyone stays in the saddle. Almost everyone pushes, including me. The slogan on the top tube is actually 100 per cent true: "We're going steep". Finally, the culmination point! The worst is behind me, I think. But the unwilling jerking of the suspension fork sparks a dark suspicion in me that this might not be true at all. Even on the initial gravel descent, the stanchions tremble stubbornly into the dropper posts, only to struggle back to their starting position after a short pause at half their travel - completely unimpressed by the volleys of bumps that reach the rider almost unfiltered.
As the fluttering tape leads me onto a crisp single trail that crosses a flowering alpine meadow, I definitely don't have time to enjoy the scenery. The first tough change of direction demands my full concentration. I tug on the brake levers with all my might, but the disc slips through the pads like a slippery eel. The stone-strewn bend gets closer and closer. I feel like I'm back in the days of V-brakes. Although they were probably more powerful. Somehow I get round the bend. But the moment of shock sits deep in my bones. My instinct to preserve life tells me: slow down, nice and slow! Despite my racing pace, every little bump almost knocks the handlebars out of my hands. Does the suspension fork do anything at all? I bump downhill more than I ride. Thoughts of panic: What happens if the brakes suddenly go completely? Or what if this dodgy fork collapses? Better not to think about it. The flat tarmac section after the descent feels like a spa treatment.
Highs and lows are close together in the marathon, also topographically. The refreshment station in Samnaun marks the lowest point of the race for the time being, i.e. the start of the next climb. I prefer to put an extra bar in my jersey pocket. I now know how the DIY store bike performs uphill. The 1000 metres in altitude to the Palinkopf become a drama in three acts for me. First my calves cramp. Then my back muscles shut down. And to make matters worse, the hunger pangs catch up with me. While the race draws me more and more, my test bike remains unimpressed. It doesn't work well, but it holds out. Shakily, I reach the refreshment station at the top of the pass. "What a rubbish idea with the marathon!" I curse.
After 5 hours and 13 minutes, I finally pass the town sign for Ischgl. There is no longer any sign of the crowds that filled the square at the start. Whilst most of the participants have long since returned to the wellness area of a hotel, I roll lonely under the finish arch. There is hardly anyone behind me.
As I greedily tuck into the soft-boiled "finisher noodles", I'm still struggling with my conclusion. Is the Rex a real mountain bike or not? No broken chain. No defect. Not even a flat tyre. The 400-euro bike has held out. But riding fun is something else. Uphill, the bike tortures every muscle fibre. On the descent, it knocked the seals out of my teeth. Let's be honest: nobody expected a bike for less than 500 euros to fulfil the demands of this hardcore marathon. The model name "Bergsteiger" is certainly a little too ambitious.
But the Rex has earned the title "mountain bike". Later that evening, when I'm back home, I read the instruction manual that the shop assistant at the DIY store gave me. It says that the use of this bike in sports competitions is prohibited. Oops! Then I'll probably clip my next race number back onto a carbon bike. That's fine by me, I grin.
The test bike: Rex Bergsteiger 6.01
29er wheels, colour-coordinated add-on parts and a painstakingly detailed finish. At first glance, you can see the Rex Bergsteiger does not believe that a DIY store originates. The mechanical disc brakes, the 3x8 gears from Shimano and a suspension fork with steel spring technology consistently ignore the state of the art. In terms of equipment, the bike is of a standard from shortly before the turn of the millennium. The brakes are extremely reluctant to decelerate. Although the suspension fork offers 90 millimetres of travel, it has neither rebound nor compression damping. After the marathon, the bushing play was enormous. The cassette range of 13 to 28 teeth is too narrow for steep terrain. The geometry of the 2140 gram aluminium frame is acceptable: with the 73 degree steep seat angle it pedals efficiently, the reach of 401 millimetres ensures a comfortable riding position. The bike performs passably well on moderate terrain, but is unsuitable for sporty terrain. In the BIKE test system, the Rex would get the rating "with weaknesses".
Weight without pedals 15.4 kg
Fork SR Suntour XCT (steel spring)
Circuit Microshift R8 / Shimano Altus
Translation of 13-28; 42/34/24; 24 gears
Brakes Promax DC 320 (mechanical)
INFO IRONBIKE ISCHGL
The precinct
Ischgl is located at an altitude of 1377 metres between the Silvretta and Verwall mountains. In addition to the marathon route, the region around Ischgl offers many trails and tours that will also put a smile on the face of enduro bikers. One highlight: the Smuggler Freeride Tour. With lift support, you can ride up to the 2870 metre high Greitsspitze, from where the Salaaser Trail winds its way down over 1000 metres in altitude to Samnaun. For those who prefer to pedal themselves, tours to the Friedrichshafener Hütte or the Paznauner Taja are the perfect choice. All tours are available as a free download on www.ischgl.com
The Silvretta Card
Anyone staying in a hotel or guesthouse in Ischgl receives the Silvretta Card all inclusive when they check in. This gives you free use of the lifts in Kappl, Galtür, See, Ischgl and Samnaun. There is also free entry to the swimming pool in Ischgl and a number of discounts in the region.
Ironbike Festival
The highlight of the season this year is once again the festival centred around the Ironbike Marathon from 3 to 6 August. In addition to the marathon with four different routes, there will be a hillclimb race, a Junior Trophy and other events. Information and registration at www.ischgl.com
You can read this article or the entire issue of BIKE 4/2017 in the BIKE app (iTunes and Google Play) or buy the issue in the DK shop reorder:
