The first addition to the Map of Joy. Admittedly, it’s from our regular haunt of Cannock Chase, but it’s rather special. Yes, my Chase Trails membership pack arrived in the post today, complete with signage coasters. The handy screw holes meant that they were ideal for pinning up, so the two FtD-specific coasters went up!
Woot!
Recipe for Disaster
Ingredients
One biker (preferably relatively inexperienced)
Two unfamiliar bikes
One unfamiliar trail
Method
1. Take the biker and leave to soak in a marinade of knee-op recovery for six months.
2. Add the bike to biker. In reality, it doesn’t really matter which bike is used, but in this example we used a Santa Cruz Juliana. Make sure it’s of a completely different build to any previous Julianas that the biker may have ridden, and add a long stem.
3. Add the unfamiliar trail. After about five minutes, the biker should meet a steep descent covered in roots that look far scarier than they actually are. To the left there should be thin annoying at face height. These should suitably panic your biker, and ensure that they are forcibly dismounted as they panic starting the descent.
4. Once the biker has rather gingerly returned to base, add the next unfamiliar bike. In this recipe, we’ll be using an Orange Diva (Long). If the biker expresses concern about riding in a pack because of being unfit and out of practice, reassure her that the guided demo ride won’t be too tricky.
5. Return the biker to the unfamiliar trail. Ensure that there are several long gruelling uphills, that are far longer than the fire road hill. This should ensure that the biker’s knees swell up uncomfortably.
6. Follow the uphill with a completely unrewarding descent. Make sure that the descent is actually far more difficult and technical than anything the biker has done before, be it Follow the Dog, Llandegla or Glentress Blue.
7. The biker should be completely worn out by this point, both physically and psychologically. At this point, they should have lost confidence to the point where they literally cannot ride the bike, even over stuff that they know is doable.
8. Rub salt into the wound by following the terrifying downhill with more dull uphill climbs.
9. Return to base, and your biker is done.
Yes, as you can probably gather from the above, today’s demo day didn’t go too well. It didn’t get off to a roaring start when we got a phone call from Leisure Lakes just as we were about to set off. Unfortunately the Meta, which I’d been looking forward to testing the most, hadn’t been delivered to the demo site. It was understandable – the chap who was responsible for sorting it out had suffered a family bereavement, so it’s completely understandable – it was just a shame.
I went on a Julianna again, which still felt too short, despite the long stem. We were too late to join the guided ride, but were allowed to take the bike for a pootle nearby.
Unfortunately I discovered that going down a steep rooty hill, whilst being whipped in the face by branches, on a bike you already feel uncomfortable on was a bad, bad idea. I bailed in spectacular fashion with a scream, landing shoulder first. Fortunately there was nothing hurt but my pride, but I was left a bit shaken.
The day really went south when I demoed my second bike. The bike itself – the Orange Diva – was great. It was the guided ride that did me. It went down the rooty annoyance that had dislodged me on the Juliana, but that was nothing compared to what was to come.
There were long, long climbs. There was a terrifying downhill section with seriously churned up mud, extremely tight corners, and tightly packed trees. I found it impossible to get any sort of flow – I would have found the section intimidating on my own hardtail, never mind a full-susser that I was riding for the first time. I was literally edging down the trail with my feet on the floor – that was when I wasn’t walking down. I was just too shaken and scared to even attempt what they were expecting me to do.
I had the small consolation that I wasn’t the only person who was struggling – a few people commented on how the route we’d been taken was harder than any red they’d done, and some were only just getting into mountain biking. One even came off, and ended up having to go back because they were too hurt to carry on.
It made me wonder why on earth Leisure Lakes had insisted on the guided ride format for their demo day, particularly as they’d no effort to find out the experience or ability levels of the people attending. In a way, I can completely see why after attending other demo days – do guided rides, and you can make sure that the bikes go out and come in exactly when they should. No late returns, no double-booking, etc. And I imagine they couldn’t hold the demo day near the tamer Follow the Dog due to the fact that Leisure Lakes and Swinnertons are competitors. I can also understand that if you’re demoing a full-suspension, you’d want to be able to test it on something other than a fire road.
But on the other hand, I can’t imagine anything more off-putting for newcomers to the sport than being forced to ride an unfamiliar bike on a very difficult trail. OK, ‘forced’ is a bit OTT, but it is difficult to say, “I can’t do this”, especially when you do genuinely want to try the bike out. I was just getting incredibly frustrated and in a lot of pain, which would have never happened if I’d been allowed to test the bike at my own pace, and within my own ability level. I had to keep reminding myself (and anyone else who was within earshot) that this was only the fourth time I’d been on a bike since my operation, that I’d ridden the Chase and Llandegla reds fairly comfortably, and that the trail was unfamilar and far harder than anything I’d done before. Even now it feels like I’m making excuses, and that I should probably pack in mountain biking as I’m obviously not cut out for it…and I hate that feeling.
In any case, I can’t imagine the guided ride was that great for the very experienced riders either, who had to frequently wait for the less experienced. I can’t really blame Leisure Lakes though, I suppose it’s not entirely unfair to think that people demoing top-of-the-line bikes should be able to ride whatever’s in front of them, and they always made sure that there were enough guides keeping an eye on everyone, including freaked out stragglers.
On the plus side, the Orange Diva was great. Wasn’t too keen on the brakes as although they were powerful, the levers felt a little loose (again, more of a setup issue/matter of personal preference than an actual problem), but I loved being on a longer bike. Loved it.
Out of interest, I asked what the difference was between the short Diva, the long Diva, and the man’s Five. The answer? The long Diva has the same frame as the standard Fives. Mr Toast was quite pleased about that – he now has high hopes for the Meta. Although the downside is that if I don’t like the Meta, the two bikes I like are well over two thousand pounds.
The chaps from Leisure Lakes said that I could demo a Meta for an entire weekend, so I’m hoping to get that sorted soon. Until then, I’m going to drown my sorrows with ibuprofen and get out the knee peas again. Oh, and here’s a picture of Mr Toast’s Meta:
Today was my first ride on my Trek since my knee operation back in September. I wondered how I would get on – for the past two weeks, I’ve been riding £1500 – £2400 full-sussers. Would I be able to get suitably re-acquainted with my diminutive black and green hardtail friend?
The answer was a most definite ‘Yes’. It’s funny, because the combination of the demo days and my consultant’s dire warnings have really taught me the importance of having my saddle at an appropriate height. I now wonder how the hell I actually rode with my saddle as low as I did.
Although I still think that the Trek is a little on the small side for me, I had a blast, and it was a lot more comfortable and a lot less tiring with the higher saddle position. I’ll confess, my plan was to stick to the greens, and not do any reds. Didn’t want to overdo it, see, especially given that we’ve got the Leisure Lakes demo day tomorrow. Wanted to strengthen my knees and get used to being back on the bike before hitting FtD. And I’ll admit, I’ve lost quite a bit of confidence – part of my reluctance to get back onto FtD was down to my worry that I’ll have lost all of the skills I gained last year during my recovery.
The fact I came off last week at the Bike Radar demo day on one of the two red sections that we did didn’t help matters. I wondered if it was because I was on a different bike to what I was used to. I wondered if it was because of the hideous dual platform pedal. But most of all, I wondered if it was proof that my worries were well-founded, and that my already limited skills had utterly evaporated over the winter.
I set off with some determination. Greens only. But there was one challenge which I wanted to see if I could still meet – the fireroad hill. Which would give out first, my fitness or my legs? The answer? Neither!
I have to admit, I didn’t approach the hill in the best of moods. There was a large group of bikers completely blocking the fireroad path. Not only did it mean that to get past them I would have had to leave the fireroad and ride through the muddy, churned up grass, but they were also blocking the exit to the previous section of FtD, completely messing up other riders’ flow and forcing some of the faster ones who weren’t expecting to run into a gaggle of morons to brake sharply. I swear, some people have zero common sense.
Fortunately they moved off just as I was about to make my way through the mud. I started up the hill…and actually got halfway up in the middle ring before dropping to granny. I think I was fuelled by a mixture of disgruntlement and smugness – disgruntled that there was a big group of people showing zero trail etiquette, and smugness as I passed them as they gave up and starting pushing their bikes. I think sheer bloody mindedness kept me in the saddle. At the top, I stopped for a well deserved Nutrigrain Oatie cookie. Incidentally, I’ve developed a disturbing addiction to these baked wonders, which can’t be good news for my waistline.
So, at the top of the hill. I could go straight on down the green…or left to the newer section 8, or right down the old one.
Well, the old section 8 isn’t really red route any more, is it? I mean, it’s all downhill, and so friendly looking. Look! The berms look like smiles!
So, off I went. Didn’t do too badly at all, although I think I might have uttered “Oh shit” at one point. I came out at the bottom in one piece, and decided to head right and explore.
I went down a lot of green routes – it was really nice to explore new areas, plus it gave me time to recover from the fire road hill and the bermy bit. I always come out of red sections utterly knackered, even the downhill ones. I think it’s possibly because I forget to breathe…
Anyhoo, new routes mean exicting new warning signs. I particularly enjoyed the one below, it adds a sense of danger and adventure to the tamest of paths
After riding around for a good while, I eventually ended up finding myself back at the entrance to the wooded sections that follow section 8. Then bizarrely, I found myself riding along those wooded sections. Not sure how that happened…
Again, I was a little shaky. I’d forgotten how much punishment my bike could take – I’d see a particularly angry looking root or rock, and think, “Oh shit, this is going to knock me”, but my bike pretty much sailed over it, and the jarring bump I was expecting to happen never occurred. It probably would have been even less jarring if I had been more relaxed, and not bracing myself for major impact. “Mountains and molehills” spring to mind…
I did a few more greens, then found myself at the start of section 13. I think you can probably imagine what happened next, dear reader.
I hung around the start of section 13 for a good while. There were a couple of blokes there, and I was worried that if I started off before them, they’d end up catching me up and putting me under loads of pressure – or worse, crashing into me. Once they started taking off their helmets and getting out their lunch, I figured I was fairly safe…then a bunch of other guys bowled up. Again, I waited…and then they took their helmets off and got their lunch out. It would seem that the start of section 13 is THE place for manly sandwich eating and male bonding.
I started off, desperately hoping that I wouldn’t make a tit of myself when there was an audience. Fortunately, I took the section very well – not particuarly fast, but more consistent in speed and with a smoother line than I have in the past. I had a huge grin on my face as I came out the section.
I did more exploring of the paths around the pools before returning to the cafe and meeting up with Mr Toast. A good day all round!
Ride: Cannock Chase
Trail: Exploring the greens, a good few sections of FtD
Highlights: Section 13, managing to prove to myself that I haven’t become utterly inept over winter.
Bad bits: The group of selfish numpties blocking entire paths and the exits/entrances to FtD
Post ride food snaffled: Food had stopped at the cafe, so it was a cup of tea and some peanuts.
Good dogs seen: Sausage dog, staffie pup, some sort of minature black and white English Sheepdog, and a silvery jack russel type thing.
The Map of Joy 2009!
This year I decided that we should make a list of all the trail centres we want to visit this year, and put them on a map. Because maps with pins in are awesome.
The right hand side is reserved for souvenoirs. I’ve also left some space for more places to be added. Whoop!
So, the weekend’s been and gone, and I’m crawling through another week of hard slog and overtime, waiting for…another demo day! This time it’s a Leisure Lakes demo day, and I’ll be trying out an Orange Diva and a Commencal Meta 5.5.2.
Mr Toast is firmly rooting for the Meta. He has a Meta himself – the fact that it’s the only bike he’s bought in five years that hasn’t been sold or completely respecced beyond all recognition is a testament to how much he loves it. He’ll enthuse about it’s great spec for a good price – it weighs in at nearly a grand less than the Zesty.
But, on the subject of weight (oooh, seamless!), the Meta is apparently about three pounds heavier. The geometry of the small Meta isn’t too far removed from the Zesty 514 L, but…who knows? That’s what demo days are for – hooray for demo days! \o/
As for the Diva, I’ve always had a soft spot for Oranges (the bikes, not the fruit). I’m a bit worried that the new 5s have rather spindly looking top-tubes, but again, I guess I’ll see how it looks – and more importantly feels – on Sunday.
If you’re a frequent biking visitor to the Chase and you’re not demoing bikes on Sunday, you could (and should) attend the ‘Big Dig Day’. The chaps at Chase Trails are hoping to get some more volunteers to help continue building Phase Two – the new red route.
“Sunday 1st March – Big Build Day (Phase 2). Barbeque and prize draw for all volunteers.
Be a part of our newest and most exciting trail so far. It’s only with your help that we’ll be able to get phase 2 ready and opened in 2009 so park up the bike for a day and pick up a shovel. Whilst we can provide tools we’re expecting a big turn out so bring you own spade, pick or sturdy rake.
We’ll be meeting at Swinnerton Cycles Forest Centre at 9.45am and will be leaving for the work site at 10am prompt”
It’s a good way of making new friends, contributing to the trails, and getting involved in the community. And hell, there’s a barbecue! Nom nom nom!
It was the second demo day of the year, and this one was the big one – the Bike Radar Demo Day. As I mentioned in a previous post, I’d booked a Lapierre Zesty 514L, a Santa Cruz Juliana, and a Yeti 575 – with a mind to demo a Trek Fuel 9 as well.
First up was the Lapierre. Now, what I’m about to write is very difficult for me. You see, me and French engineering? We don’t go well together. I’ve never had a particularly high regard for it ever since my mate Dez bought a Peugeot, and had nothing but trouble with it. This view was reinforced when another friend bought a Renault…which was also plagued with problems. And, just to add a delicious layer of bitter icing to the cake of disgruntlement, I’ve had to fork out god knows how much money on my Nissan Micra.
“But that’s Japanese!”, I hear you cry! Alas, dear reader, that’s also what I assumed. That’s why I bought it – because Japanese cars are traditionally very reliable. Which is why I was puzzled when I started having so many engine problems with my car over the past year – my car, incidentally, wasn’t even three years old when it started playing up. And recently, after having to replace the EGR valve, I learnt the source of my woes.
Nissan Micras are Japanese designed…but the UK Micras with the current body shape (launched in 2003) have French engines. Renault engines, to be exact. So yeah, me and French engineering? Generally, I’d be screaming “NON!” right about now.
So, I was viewing the Zesty with some suspicion. Sure, I’d read glowing reviews, but that wasn’t really enough to overcome my innate prejudice or casual racism. Baguettes ahoy! Plus it had a fairly uninspired paint job…
To ride, however, the Zesty 514 was the best bike I’ve ever ridden. It just felt…right. Solid, stable, but light and nimble. It inspired confidence on descents, and climbed nicely too. Everything was pretty much perfect – geometry suited me to a T, the brakes were set up with just the right amount of bite, and the gears were perfectly smooth. MMmmmm….Zesty!
Unfortunately, the women’s version of the Zesty only seems to be available in the 514, not the slightly lower specced 314…which means it tips in at a mighty £2399.
Ouch.
I don’t suppose anyone could offer any information on the organ black market, I have a spare kidney sitting around. One careful lady owner…
Next up was the Trek Fuel 8 WSD, which is infamously brown. Well, to be fair, it’s actually more like bronze and gold in the flesh, but that’s still dangerously close to brown in my book. The Trek, sadly, disappointed slightly, but I feel that was more down to the set-up rather than being down to the bike itself.
The gears were a bit crunchy, and the brakes kept rubbing, leading to a quiet ghostly wail as I rode, which transformed into what can only be described as the honking of an angry goose when I actually applied the brakes. The brakes also felt a little spongey, with the lever needing to be pulled back to its full extent to get any bite. On the plus side, noisy brakes are awesome for startling nearby walkers….
There was also the pedals – I didn’t take my own flats to the demo day, so I was using the manufacturers own. Unfortunately Trek were using dual platform flat/spd pedals on their demo fleet. Today I discovered that, in my eyes, dual platform/spd pedals are the worst idea ever. Try and do two things at once, and you end up doing neither very well. Like trying to pedal up a technical ascent whilst trying to get the pedals the right way around, for example…
Geometry wasn’t too bad, but I think I would have benefitted going to the 15.5″ instead of the 14.5″ – despite having the same top tube length as its male counterparts, the bike I was on still felt a little short.
Again, like the Safire, I’m not going to completely write off the Trek until I’ve given it a fair chance. Despite the problems, it was still an enjoyable ride, and all of those problems aren’t inherent to the bike itself. Brakes can be bled and discs adjusted, gears can be cleaned and oiled. It’s just a shame that the bike wasn’t at its best on the demo day – which is possibly the one day it really needs to be! I think I’ll try and demo the next size up from Swinnertons at some point, and see if it impresses then.
After stuffing a bacon sandwich into my face, the Santa Cruz Juliana was up to bat. First…
I think we’ll all agree that that is a very, very green bike. Traditionally I’ve not been a huge fan of the garish mono-coloured bikes, but recently I’ve been softening to them. And there is something compelling about riding a bike that screams “LOOK AT ME!!”…also something terrifying if, like me, you’re not actually very good…
The Juliana was a nice ride, again, solid and stable. I felt confident enough to take her down Section 13, which I haven’t ridden since…*checks previous blog entries*…August! Unfortuantely, I don’t think it was quite what I was after – it was a really nice bike, and I’d be happy to take one out for a more extended spin, but it felt slightly off (but annoyingly not in any way I can quite explain), and it didn’t tackle climbs with the same…er, zest as the Zesty.
I never got to try the Yeti, but the guy at the tent told me that Yetis “come up large”, and that the small would be too big for me. Apparently they’ve just started making extra small 575s, but they have none in the demo fleet sadly. Still, have a picture of a Yeti anyway.
Ride: Cannock Chase
Trail: A little bit of Follow the Dog (including Section 13), some green routes
Highlights: The Lapierre Zesty.
Bad bits: Dual platform pedals on the Trek. Yes, I know I should have taken my own 🙁
Post ride food snaffled: Bacon sandwich, oaty choc chip cookie, Gray’s Herbal Tablets
Good dogs seen: Border Terrier, labrador pups, little airedale terrier type dogs
Had my first demo day of the year yesterday…and my first ride since my knee operation in September! Even though the track was knackered and the weather was iffy, it was great to be back out again!
It was the MBR Demo Day, with Specialized and Giant in attendance. It wasn’t quite as big an affair as last year, and wasn’t quite as well organised. We got there about 1.45pm, and headed straight to the Specialized tent. I wanted to give the Safire another go – ideally, I would have like to have tried sitting on both the small and the medium, but unfortunately bikes were going out as soon as they came in, so I stuck to the small.
The Specialized chaps checked the details – apparently the small Safire had gone out an hour beforehand, so was due back immediately. “Come back at 2.10pm, we should have it ready by then”.
Can you guess what happened, dear readers? If you recall last year’s demo day post, you probably can. The bike wasn’t back by 2.10pm. Or 2.30pm. No, the bike came back in at 2.50pm – more than an hour after it was due back. A new record!
I can’t blame the Specialized guys. Things might have run smoother if they’d had pre-booking like last year, and more bikes (I think there was only one of each size for each model), but I suppose they can only carry so much. And really, shouldn’t people just, oooh, I don’t know…return the bikes when they’re supposed to? Demo days just seem a bit flawed in that respect, in that the demoing of a particular bike can be thrown out of whack for the rest of the day by one person being a selfish arsehole. Of course, there could have been technical problems with the bike, or the person could have had an accident…but the previous rider looked fine. -_-
Anyway, onto the bike! I have to say, Specialized staff continue to impress – despite the miserable weather and fraying tempers due to late returns, they were friendly, informative, and dedicated to making sure that every single person who went out got the best experience possible. They adjusted the shock and the forks according to people’s weight, made sure everything was tightened up and the optimum height, and explained what kind of travel you should be looking for.
Unfortunately, the bike impressed slightly less. Really nice rolling on the flat, lovely smooth gearing…but I just felt a bit perilous on descents. It felt a bit too short, a bit too upright – all in all, it felt like I was perched over the handlebars. I don’t know if it’s the case that I needed to go a size up, or just need a bike with a bit more reach, but it just didn’t feel right.
That said, it was my first time on a bike in five months, I was riding with the saddle far higher than I would normally (ie a sensible height, as dictated by my consultant), and it was very, very muddy (Yay! Slidey!) . It might just be that I need to give the Safire more of a chance and get used to biking again – especially on a different bike.
When I returned the bike (ON TIME), the Specialized chap asked me how I got on. I was honest, and he had several suggestions. He didn’t think that I should go a size up, as that’d be too big height-wise, but I could increase the reach by moving the saddle back – it was as far forward as it would go. Might have to see if I can demo one from the concept store in Brum and give it a go when the weather’s better and I’ve got my confidence up again.
Ride: Cannock Chase
Trail: A little bit of Follow the Dog, some green routes
Highlights: Being back on the bike for the first time since September!
Bad bits: A wee bit too muddy in parts
Post ride food snaffled: Bacon sandwich, caramel slice
Good dogs seen: Border Terrier, mud-splattered Westies trotting daintily along, Alsation pup
Booked my demo bikes for the Bike Radar Demo Day next month! Currently my schedule looks like this:
12.30: Lapierre Zesty 514L
13.15: Planning on an on-the-day booking of a Trek Fuel 8 WSD. EVEN THOUGH IT’S BROWN!
14.45: Santa Cruz Juliana
15.15: Yeti 575
Really looking forward to it, want to get into the woods sooner though, re-familiarise myself with the trail. I’m also looking forward to what the different bikes have to offer, and whether I’ll be any more impressed than I was with the ones I tried last year.
In other news, Mr Toast’s head was turned by a heavily discounted GT Zaskar frame. They were going fast on Wiggle, but he was waiting for some money to come in from eBay. Unfortunately, we’ve been in this situation before, and it normally involves the bike selling just before Mr Toast can get to it, and me having to listen to years of his mourning ‘the one that got away’. So, I bit the bullet and bought it myself on my credit card, and am now the proud owner of an extra large carbon frame!
I was tempted to keep my purchase a secret, but after recieving a miserable MSN message from Mr Toast, saying that the last frame had gone (he’d had the page open and had been hitting refresh every few minutes), I put him out of his misery. He was needless to say quite pleased that he now owns a) a carbon bike, andb) a Zaskar, the bike he longed for in his youth. Bless.
Incidentally, carbon frames are wrong. They don’t weigh anything, and sound like plastic when you tap them. Creepy!
Well, you’ve got to hand it to Trek, they keep their eyes open. Only a couple of days after my previous (slightly ranty) post, they posted a response. You’ve got to give ’em credit for addressing people’s concerns, and for taking the time to post on a tiny blog!
Initially, although I was impressed that they bothered to respond, I wasn’t overly impressed with the reasoning. Neither were some of the posters on the Bike Radar forum, with Supersonic in particular putting TrekChris through her paces. Chris, however, rose to the challenge, and answered all the questions thrown at her.
Apparently, this is the first year that the high-end Fuels have had the same geometry, and the change was made because the higher-end riders preferred it that way – hence why the WSD models in the lower end of the range still have the different geometry. To compensate for those who’d still prefer a shorter top tube, there are additional sizes in between the standard bloke’s sizes.
And that makes sense, really – there’s no point in making a product one way if the majority of the target audience wants it another. So, kudos to Trek for taking the time to explain the research behind certain decisions. You could argue that the marketing blurb about WSD on their sites is still a little misleading (especially on the US site, which makes a bit more of a song and dance about geometry). But then again, given that they have over thirty-odd WSD models that do have differing geometry from the standard bikes, and three that don’t…well, it’s just being picky, really.
Now, if Trek could explain the market research that led them to believe that brown was a good colour for a bike…
And you too, Specialized. And you, Kona.
I know we ladies have risen up against overwhelmingly pink bikes in recent years…but brown?
Well, all credit to Trek, they responded to my email very promptly:
“Its good to see youre looking at our EX range, they really are a fantastic bike.
You are correct, the EX8 & EX8 WSD have the same geometry. The WSD isnt just about the geometry. it also considers things like the brakes, grips and saddles (all of which are more suitable for a women on the EX8). As for the geometry, I would always strongly recommend going into a store and getting properly sized for the bike you want.
I hope you get the bike youre looking for.”
So there you have it. The Trek Fuel WSD is exactly the same as the regular one, but with smaller rotors, slimmer grips and a women’s saddle. Which, as I’ve ranted on the Bike Radar forum, is a bit cheeky given that the marketing blurb says:
“WSD Bikes are engineered specifically for women. Each bike puts you in a more natural riding position by redistributing weight more evenly between hips and hands. That means more comfort, better control and optimal power.”
Well, maybe I just misunderstood them. Maybe I though that ‘redistributing weight more evenly between hips and hands’ was a bit of a tall order for the grips, saddle and rotors. Maybe I somehow confused this with claims of differing geometry, possibly because my head is full of kittens and unicorns.
Or maybe it’s because of stuff like this:
WSD Fit: A Geometry Lesson
A look at how Trek designs WSD bikes to optimally fit women.
It’s a shame, because their lower end WSD bikes do have differing geometry from their male counterparts. Even the Fuel 5.5 has different geometry between the regular and WSD versions. But their higher end full-sussers? Forget about it.
I’m still going to try one out, as there’s nothing to say that I wouldn’t get on with the bloke’s geometry, assuming I can fit on the smallest frame. But it’s a shame that the illusion of choice put forward by the marketing department doesn’t quite match the reality.
