Steel frames are a bit like the guitar poppers from New Order. Both have had a loyal fan base for decades. Yet they have been neither "in" nor "out" all this time. New Order recently released what feels like their hundredth album on the market. And good old steel is still bravely holding its own in the roaring ocean of material trends. It has outlasted all fashions. Around the turn of the millennium, it briefly looked as if carbon fibre would flush steel down the drain of history. But that was a long time ago. Recently, the demand for steel frames has even picked up again. And this is despite the fact that even lower mid-range bikes are now running the full carbon programme. How did this happen?
Mountain biking is the complete symbiotic fusion of rider and vehicle. The tasks are clearly distributed. The rider ensures that sufficient energy is always fed into the cranks, while at the same time operating the steering and gear levers with precision. The bike ensures that the rider's commands are obediently implemented. It defies the pitfalls of the terrain without slowing down the uphill speed with an overly generous design. Since the invention of the mountain bike, engineers have worked feverishly in front of drawing boards and computer monitors to find the optimum combination of weight, stiffness and suspension power.
Every milestone remained a compromise
But no matter how hard they laboured: Every milestone remained a compromise. If the downhill performance was top, the climbing characteristics suffered. If the uphill acceleration was rocket-like, riding on rough ground was like bullriding. A separate type of bike was invented for each type of terrain, although a good tour includes all facets. So what to buy? Hardtail, all-mountain, enduro, all-mountain plus, fat bike, or all-mountain hardtail, or, or, or?
That's one problem. The other is that the struggle for the last gram has made the bikes uniform. Physics does not tolerate optical playfulness. Whereas bikes used to reflect the character of their creators, today their appearance is determined by computer programmes. Model cycles are short, used prices are puny. The technology seems exhausted, yet the ever smaller innovative steps are being hailed as world sensations. You can hardly get round to biking because of all the buying and selling. At the same time, all it takes is one harmless crash to turn a high-tech carbon bike into a safety risk. Damage to the carbon structure is barely visible to the naked eye. These are all problems that fuel the desire for timeless, uncomplicated bikes.
Ritchey didn't just make mountain bike frames
Robust, durable, elegant. These are the attributes that make steel an attractive material even in times of carbon fibre frames. The waiting lists at the custom forges are long. But it doesn't necessarily have to be customised. The American Tom Ritchey was one of the first to produce a mountain bike frame in the early 1980s. They were not just bicycle frames. They were works of art made with fetishistic devotion.
Ritchey, who wore his seventies moustache as majestically as a royal crown, was worshipped by the fans. Gary Fisher ordered a frame from him. Later, in the early nineties, Swiss rider Thomas Frischknecht became a superstar on Ritchey bikes. Models such as the "P-23" are icons today. When the industrialisation of mountain bike production made life difficult for the pioneers in their garage forges in the mid-nineties, the small companies died by the dozen. The market was flooded with soulless, cheap bikes.
At the same time, technical development progressed ever more rapidly. A veritable battle for market supremacy broke out, flanked by an incessant firework display of new products. The MTB niche became a multi-million dollar business. The small manufacturers, however, were up to their necks in water. From then on, the Ritchey name was no longer emblazoned on hand-soldered frames, but on handlebars, seat posts and tyres manufactured in the Far East. Which the hard core of the fan community deeply regretted.
It used to say "Handmade by Tom Ritchey"
Then, a few years ago, they suddenly made a comeback. Affordable steel frames that are free of bells and whistles. No longer welded by company boss Tom Ritchey. But the frame sticker, which used to show the personal handiwork of the master craftsman, still endeavours to be a seal of quality: "Designed by Tom Ritchey". Fans of the first hour will grumble, after all it used to say: "Handmade by Tom Ritchey". But oh, how nice it is to reminisce about times gone by.
The Ritchey P-650b with 27.5-inch wheels closes the gap between 26er and 29er. The model was already presented at the 2013 trade fairs. Now the revised version is rolling onto the trails just in time for the season. The head tube and colour are new, otherwise only details have been changed. You don't have to look at the geometry table to guess the character of the P-650b. The bright blue painted beauty hunches long and flat over the gravel. One thing is clear: this beast is hungry for kilometres. A long-distance file that feels just as at home in stage races as it does on the daily home circuit.
The geometry is based on the genes of a typical marathon bike. Long top tube. Sporty, not too aggressive angles. 100 millimetres of travel. Although the head tube is ultra-modern and tailored for forks with stiff, tapered steerer tubes, the P-650b does without dropouts for thru axles and a bottom bracket housing for press-fit bearings. The classic line: BSA bearings, dropouts for 9 mm quick releases. Why? Because it is tried and tested and good. It is possible that the stiffness advantage of thru axles can be calculated. It can only be felt by the very few. The mount for the disc brake calliper is neatly positioned between the chainstay and seatstay. The tubes come from the in-house "Logic 2" range and change wall thickness up to three times.
Marathon bikers immediately feel at home on the Ritchey
The naked frame weighs just under 2000 grams. This is not a top value, especially not in comparison with frames made of carbon or aluminium. But in view of the relatively favourable price of 890 euros, that's okay. The bike, which is consistently equipped with Sram X0 parts and Ritchey parts, weighs 10.5 kilos. An okay value. Even if a comparable carbon bike weighs about a kilo less. After all, the Ritchey is a highly robust bike that wouldn't break down even on a Mongolian expedition lasting several months.
BIKE has put one of the first 2015 P-650b bikes through its endurance test. The bike has covered almost 1500 kilometres so far without punctures. On muddy trails and snowy tracks. Anyone who appreciates the ride feel of marathon bikes will immediately feel at home on the Ritchey. The riding position strikes the perfect balance between comfortable and sporty. The kilometres just whizz by under the rider, while the good-natured character of the steering doesn't challenge your steering skills too much during normal riding. Compared to the aggressive race bikes in the World Cup league, the rather tame steering angle of the Ritchey ensures stable manoeuvrability without appearing sluggish.
The climbing characteristics are impressive. The front wheel stays firmly on the ground even on steeper sections without the rider having to twist over the handlebars. The bike masters descents with ease. Gravel tracks do not push the P-650b to its limits. On narrow trails, the rider has to work a little from time to time. The difference to carbon bikes in terms of riding feel is not too great. Only those who pay close attention may notice the slightly lower stiffness at the bottom bracket during brute pedalling actions (exact stiffness values in the final endurance test story in one of the next BIKE issues). And of course, the high frame weight takes away some of the Ritchey's liveliness. However, only body-fat-measuring starting block A riders are likely to criticise this.
The bicycle has been invented. More would be fetish.
Florian Wiesmann would make the weld seams more skilful. The guys from Independent Fabrication would squeeze a few more grams out of the material. Rody Walter from Groovy Cycleworks would conjure up a more exciting paint job. No matter. The Ritchey offers exactly as much bike as you need for fast off-road riding. More would be fetish.
You'd like to put your hand on the shoulders of the many hard-working bicycle engineers at their computer workstations and call out to them: "Hey, you guys! Flicker boxes off! The bicycle has been invented. Let's go biking!" New Order are rumoured to be working on a new album. And steel is also guaranteed to live on forever. The Ritchey P-650b alone will make sure of that.
Conclusion: A rock-solid bike for anyone who values a timeless, no-frills look and reliable technology. Slightly lighter and stiffer than the Twentyniner version (model designation: P-29er). The paint quality could be a little more durable. The blue surface is sensitive to contact with stones. Nevertheless: a bike like a mate. Best buy.
Info: Geometry and equipment Ritchey P-650b
Ritchey on the Internet: www.ritcheylogic.com
What do you think of the new 2015 edition of the Ritchey P-650b? Do you need more bike for mountain biking?
You can also give us your opinion on the steel frame material in our Survey on steel MTBs communicate.
