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U.S. Built Bicycles in Titanium and Carbon-Titanium Mix

Lucky Number Seven

By Peter Easton

Road Magazine

Welding

In the contemporary world of bicycle manufacturing, the majority of artistry that defines the mainstream production of a bicycle can be found primarily in glossy advertisements and flashy animated websites. In some instances, the actual product consists of very little art outside of a paint job. For some factories and warehouses, their stalls are filled with endless rows of frames hanging in repetition, barely distinguishable from each other. The art of framebuilding has seen many pioneers, those artists and sculptures who set out to carve their niche in a specialized segment of the industry, each with their own talent, materials and eventually, customer loyalty that helped fill orders and spread the word. But it’s no secret that a life as a framebuilder is a labor of love, and not the glamorous lifestyle some photos may portray. Tight margins, endless hours and demanding customers are just a few of the issues the struggling torchbearer has faced, and many have folded, with little success as a business.

Toward the end of the 1990s, a significant shift in frame building and materials was in full swing, and titanium had become the exotic metal everyone had to have, and few builders had expertise in. Light, resilient, compliant and with a high strength to fatigue ratio, titanium bike manufacturing sprung up across the country in an effort to capitalize on the demand, explore new possibilities, and advance the development of an emerging technology. While many looked closely at how to produce a large number of frames with cheaply sourced titanium, one builder felt the time was right to take a larger look at how to develop the infrastructure to build a large number of frames one at a time.

Continue reading “Lucky Number Seven”

Berlin Show Bike

Berlin Bike full

Designed specifically for the city of Berlin, this urban bike is equipped to do anything in the city. This Elium SLX show bike is one part commuter, one part urban bike, one part utility bike, and three parts style.

For the commuter, this bike includes:

Berlin Bike - Front

  • Belt drive for an extremely low-maintenance drive train
  • Internally geared hub
  • Full fenders and belt guard modified and painted to match the bike

For utility purposes, this machine has:

  • Integrated custom titanium rear rack
  • Custom titanium double kickstand
  • Lighting system uses a hub dynamo generator

The style of this bike is very utility-urban:

  • Unification of titanium and carbon fiber
  • Integrated headlight and taillight
  • Very stylized custom Seven Tiberius handlebar
  • Every element of the bike is customized, tailored painted and matched in some way

Berlin Bike with minimalist rear rack

For urban riding, this bike provides:

  • Compact titanium custom flat bars
  • Super light construction- even with the fenders and rack

Cycling Silk Blog: Explaining Borders to the Birds

Crossing a swift river while pushing a heavily loaded bicycle in rain gear, barefoot
Kate and her Seven Traverse Icy Waters

In the world of strict plans and fixed agendas, detours are just distractions. But on the Cycling Silk expedition, detours often prove the destination – and not just because we frequently get lost. So when KuzeyDoga, an award-winning Turkish NGO, invited us to explore their biodiversity conservation projects in the borderlands of eastern Turkey – wooing us with wild animals, wide open spaces, and a visit to a Turkish bath – we knew it would be worth diverting from our intended route for a visit. After all, we hadn’t showered in a week. Continue reading “Cycling Silk Blog: Explaining Borders to the Birds”

Cycling Silk Blog: What is Wasteland, What is Wilderness

This is the third in a series of articles documenting Cycling Silk, A year-long research expedition across Asia.

Sleeping in the bunks

There are places you can get to by road, and there are places you can only get to by being on the road, a state of mind you can carry, with concerted effort, to almost any context. Even a train swaying drunkenly on its tracks across Kazakhstan as men sway drunkenly through it, past aisles of people stacked in sleeper bunks like produce on shelves – some fresh, some overripe, some way past expiration.

After nearly a month of chasing down elusive visas, a month of spinning wheels that weren’t our bikes, we definitely belonged in the latter category. Getting sanction to cycle the Silk Road through Central Asia is the modern equivalent of the Great Game, a kind of diplomatic chess where enigmatic rules change on a dictator’s whim, where checkmate is risked with every move to a new country, especially a new ‘Stan. With Cycling Silk we couldn’t apply for visas ahead of time, since at our pace, on a trip this long, they’d expire before we arrived. So we’ve had to snag them along the way, which at times has meant intense frustration and desperate tactics to get where we’ve wanted to go. And there’s nothing like banging your head on borders to learn how impenetrable these arbitrary barriers can be.

The biggest hassle was Uzbekistan, a notoriously closed-off country with a special disdain for independent travellers who might well ride their bikes off the beaten track and write about it afterwards. When our Uzbek ‘Letter of Invitation’ (a prerequisite for applying for a tourist visa) didn’t arrive in Azerbaijan on time, we were forced to fly across the Caspian Sea to Kazakhstan; take a 72-hour train ride across the ninth largest country in the world; spend a week waiting in embassy lines and filling out forms in Almaty; and then board that same 72-hour train back to the Caspian Sea coast. Continue reading “Cycling Silk Blog: What is Wasteland, What is Wilderness”

Cycling Silk:
The Borderland Between Freeze and Thaw in Turkey

This is the second in a series of articles documenting Cycling Silk, A year-long research expedition across Asia.

Heavy touring in the snow on the Silk Road

Turkey, at least the thin strip of the country we’ve been biking, is made like its tea only served cold: steep, intensely dark and concentrated, with a lot of water poured on top. The Turkish adventure began with an epicurean week in Istanbul with two new and now dear friends, Diarmuid and Berna O’Donovan, who generously hosted us during our stay in the city. After bulking up on baklava and other delicious Turkish fare, we packed the bikes, boarded a ferry in Europe, then set sail for Asian shores. The ferry let us off near the outlet of the Bosphorus strait into the Black Sea, and from there the grind against gravity began.

The Black Sea region is infamous among cyclists for the kind of nose-gratingly steep hills that tie knots in your lungs, knots which slacken on the brief descents, only to cinch tighter yet on the next climb. Dense parabolas of pain define the contours of the coastline, relentlessly, though often spectacularly. On this trip we’re lugging an obscene amount of gear for documentary purposes (heavy photography and filmmaking equipment), amounting to over 100 pounds each strapped on our sturdy Seven Expat Ss. And while our bikes – who we have affectionately dubbed Marco (mine) and Polo (Mel’s) – didn’t flinch at the load or the grade, our legs sure did. We only made it 10km that first day, and I wish I could claim it was only because we got off to a late start. Continue reading “Cycling Silk:
The Borderland Between Freeze and Thaw in Turkey”