At the Sea Otter Classic 2013 we had the opportunity to try out a SRAM XX1-equipped bike featuring the new 1×11 drivetrain.

Our impressions were recorded in real time in the attached video review, another in our On The Bike Reviews. We rode a SRAM-labeled Kona 29er equipped with the 1×11. The bike had a 32-tooth chainring and 10×42 rear cassette.

The first thing that threw us was the shifter. We instinctively reached for the trigger and found… nothing. Instead the bike was equipped with SRAM’s patented GripShift — the old motorcycle-style twist shifter.

We hadn’t ridden GripShifts since they first came out in the early 1990s. We tried ‘em on a couple of bikes and gave up. The response was slow, cable action was delayed, mis-shifting was common and in general — although we loved the idea — they didn’t deliver.

We stayed with SRAM drivetrains, in part because SRAM worked better than Shimano, and in part because we were a little tired of the Shimano monopoly. Whatever.

Over the years, we hadn’t paid much attention to GripShift.

On our tests of the 1×11, though, we soon came to like the gripper. SRAM has done much to improve the action and response. But there was another factor.

When you’re dependent on only the rear cassette, you find yourself flipping through multiple gears much more often. Without the front derailleur to rely on for step-up or down gearing spreads, you often want to jump two or three cogs at a time.

We came to think we should seriously consider this matchup for using 1×11 gearing, which our next bike will have.

One caveat: Troubling negative feedback on GripShift in MTBR.com forums. Some riders are reporting failure. Some have asked SRAM for a response. So far, nothing from SRAM.

That’s too bad, because 1×11’s success may ultimately rely in part on GripShift adoption. We will be monitoring this as the season proceeds.

Back to the 1×11 test.

We found the rear derailleur to be smooth and responsive. Not much more to say there. It shifted as it should. We haven’t found any huge leaps in derailleur technology since index shifting, really. Refinements, yes. But let’s face it, if the gear changes precisely and quickly — which it does for nearly every brand of derailleur — that’s plenty good enough. Performance often is far more dependent on cable adjustment, tension and action.

The ride with a 1×11 is almost spooky quiet. Despite taking stutters at speed and tossing the bike around under us, we never experienced a single whisper of chain slap. When we checked the chain stay, we found it unprotected, unmarked and un-nicked. This setup lacked any chain tensioner or guide. The chain just doesn’t move around.

Our experience was confirmed by several months-long 1×11 users. Most started with a chain guide of some sort, but soon abandoned it as not needed.

What we really liked about the 1×11 had to do with … NO shifting!

With 1×11 of course, you lose the front derailleur and front shifter. And cable. And housing. (You even lose the chainstay protector, whether it’s a Velcro fabric or stretch tape.)

It’s like a whole chunk of stuff goes away, and you don’t have to worry about it any more.

The drivetrain as a result is going to be lighter. Because SRAM has made XX1 its new gold standard, the machining, weight and finish of the 1×11 is nonpareil. The stuff is really well made. (Again, they absolutely need to address the GripShift question.)

That leads us to the second part of our 1×11 experience. At Sea Otter we asked everyone from Pivot founder Chris Cocalis to the dude on the carbon Scott 27.5 (650b) from Los Angeles about how they liked 1×11. To a person, they all raved. They unreservedly gave it one thumb’s up — one, because that’s all you need with just a single shifter.

We had heard early rumors of chain fatigue and breakage with XX1, which made some sense given the amount of spread in an 11-cog cassette. Most feedback was that there’s less stress on the chain because it isn’t always having to hop back and forth among front chainrings.

We’re persuaded enough by experience and feedback to be eager to equip our next bike with 1×11. In the meantime, we’ll monitor the rumor mill and try to get a response from SRAM on GripShift issues.

At the recent Santa Cruz Mountain Bike Festival we had a chance to ride back-to-back the two hottest new carbon 29ers, the Ibis Ripley and Pivot’s Mach 429. We’re attaching our unique “On The Bike Review” videos here but also wanted to elaborate a bit now that we’ve had a chance to think the rides over.

At first glance, you’d assume these bikes are pretty much “carbon” copies of one another. They both spring from boutique backgrounds, they’re produced by two of mountain biking’s leading designers (Scot Nicol and Chris Cocalis), they both feature Dave Weagle’s DW-link suspension and they both aim at the top tier of quality, workmanship, esthetics and, of course, pricing.

What impressed us most about our rides, however, was how different these bikes are.

In a nutshell, the Ripley rides more like a really fast cross-country racer, while the 429 feels more like a ripping trail bike. Both can cross over into other disciplines, of course. But rider orientation is a big deal in choosing which of these bikes to go with.

What we noticed first about the Ripley was its flabbergasting climb prowess. Riding up forest trails, we easily were scaling step-ups, switchbacks and loose stuff that would have stopped us on a standard 26er, no matter how light and stiff. The bike tracked amazingly well, going right where we pointed it and offering effortless control, even when the front end was unweighted on the steeps.

At first we figured we were drunk on adrenaline, riding the cool new Ripley. And feeling really strong that day. Something we had for breakfast, perhaps.

Nope. The bike itself was the difference.

Hands-down, the Ripley is the best climbing bike we’ve ever ridden. There isn’t much more to say.

Part of this is the Ripley’s short chainstay (17.5 inches) and wheelbase (44.1 inches for a Large). Part of it is the DW-link configuration — built right into the frame rather than external. And part of it lies in Ripley’s fairly steep geometry — 70 degree head and 73 degree seat angles. The bike we rode was also pretty light, in the 26-pound range.

The Ripley’s climbing chops wrought an inevitable tradeoff, however.

On the downhill side, the bike felt less secure. It was a bit too upright to really settle down into. Although it cornered well and responded snappily on tight sections, there seemed to be a slight latency on drops, jumps and technical sections. We never were completely comfortable and never felt truly “centered” on the Ripley.

The caveat here, of course, is that we only had an hour on the bike and in no way could say it was completely dialed for our riding. But it’s also true that the climbing DNA of the Ripley may exert a tax on its downhill capability.

Note in the Ripley video that our take was shared by another rider testing out the Ripley whom we ran into heading back to the festival.

Our Ripley impressions also were confirmed by the ride on the Mach 429. While the 429 climbed better than our 26 and was certainly no slouch, it couldn’t touch the Ripley on the ups. A quick look at geometry gives a clue: The 429 has longer chainstays (17.65) and wheelbase (44.96), and slacker geometry (69.3 head, 71.9 seat). Also, as we note in the video, the Pivot’s front end sits noticeably higher, the head tube being 4.7 inches long v. 3.9 for the Ripley.

(All comparisons are for Large size, 120mm of travel and 2.1-inch tires, with similar Fox forks.)

Pointed down, though, the dynamic flipped. The 429 just railed. The cockpit felt immediately comfortable, the bike ate up berms, drops and jumps, and the suspension was supple and responsive. The bike felt more stable at speed and flickable on sketchy sections. Sitting on the 429, you really sink into the suspension, like the feeling you get when you manual a long-travel 26er.

The simplest way of putting it: The 429 was the first 29er we’ve ridden that really “disappeared” under us. We weren’t constantly reminded we were on a 29er. We were just out riding and having a blast.

You can’t go wrong with either of these bikes. But choosing which one may ultimately lie in your riding style and orientation as well as the trails you prefer. There was a time — when we were more racer boy and loved climbing better than anything — that the Ripley would have suited us better. But for all-around trail riding and just plain fun, we’d have to go with the 429. Beyond those two admittedly broad categorizations, the choice is up to you.

This year’s Sea Otter Classic 2013 was as good as they come: Gorgeous warm sunshine, tons of riders of all ages, lots of racing excitement and vendors and spenders. We got to demo bikes to our heart’s content, talk with lots of bike folks, check out all the new equipment and ride the big loop.

What more could a bike fanatic ask?

Here’s the official race recap provided by Sea Otter, day by day. If you couldn’t make it to Monterey for this year’s fest, at least you can enjoy it vicariously here.

Congrats to Seattle homie Jill Kintner and U.S. standout Aaron Gwin on their big wins in the Downhill! Jill took double gold, also winning the dual slalom on Saturday.

Race results.

At the Sea Otter Classic 2013 we had an opportunity to test ride two new 27.5 bikes: the carbon Bronson — Santa Cruz Bicycles’ latest and one of the showcase bikes of Otter this year — and the Pivot Firebird, modified for 27.5 setup and announced opening day at the festival.

[Note we use the term "shootout" advisedly, given our limited time on the bikes. This was more bb gun than OK Corral.]

At 26 to 27 pounds for 150mm of travel, the Bronson build was impressive, including ENVE wheels and Maxxis Hi Roller tires along with full XTR. Our bike had a 2×10 drivetrain, although the Santa Cruz booth was displaying the same build with a XX1 (1×11) drivetrain on a Medium it said tipped the scales at 26.5 lbs.

We admittedly couldn’t stretch the Bronson out on Laguna Seca’s fairly docile singletrack. But the ride was long enough to tell us a couple of things.

The geometry of the Bronson — 67 head, 73 seat angle on a Large — felt a little more upright than we’d like. This is a personal preference of course, but we didn’t feel like the Bronson would be at its best riding aggro, mountain bike park or downhill. It felt closer to an XC bike. Perhaps that’s the crowd Santa Cruz is aiming at, although the aggressive tires indicated otherwise.

The bike climbed better than a 26-er but not nearly as well as a 29er. It felt as you’d expect, a compromise between the two. Although to our mind it was closer to the 26-inch experience than the 29-inch.

On downhill stretches, particularly fast sections, we wanted more travel out of the Bronson. Weirdly — and this could be related to suspension, the geometry, the amount of travel or just our own head games — we’re wondering if the 27.5 category isn’t better suited to longer travel. Just throwing that out there. It’s not a theory we found support for among a few 27.5 riders we interviewed. But to a rider, they were in the 5-8 to 5-10 height range. We run 6-0 and have long monkey arms.

To confirm our theory, the Pivot Firebird 27.5 felt more comfortable to us. You sink down in the 6.6-inches of travel as with the conventional Firebird. But the bigger hoops and slacker angles (66 degrees via a Pivot custom angled headset on a Large, 71.5 seat angle) give you a new dimension of versatility, speed and handling. For a taller rider, the Firebird 27.5 actually adds a noticeable degree of stability and centered-ness.

This all held true despite the Firebird being heavier, at 31.5 pounds, and aluminum, not as responsive as carbon. But neither of those factors count for much when you point the rig downhill.

The caveat being that we only rode the thing briefly around the midway, doing mostly stutter stops and starts, wheelies and track stands. Having lots of fun, but hardly testing it. Pivot did not have a build ready to take out on the trails. (Pivot offers an extensive demo program and expects to have Firebird 27.5s ready to roll in mid-May.)

With all that said, we admit to not quite getting the 27.5 category. It feels like half a loaf. If you want the advantages of a larger platform, why not go to 29? The only rationale that makes sense to us is rider height. There may be a sweet spot where 27.5 is just right for the shorter among us who find 29ers too angular. For someone our height, it may not be dramatic enough to warrant the commitment to a whole platform.

For another view on the Bronson, check out Francis’ take on MTBR.com. Francis found more plushness to the Bronson than we did. It’s also worth noting he’s 5-8. But he had considerable more time on the Bronson than we did, and puts it in the context of other 27.5 (650b) bikes. (It omits the Firebird, however, having been written before the 27.5’s release.)

Have you checked out what’s going on over at Wahoo Fitness? We had the chance to stop by the Atlanta-based company’s booth at the Sea Otter Classic 2013 and get the full rundown from Eric Stobin, national sales manager. (See video below.)

If you train seriously, you know how important numbers become. Heartbeat. VO2 max. Caloric output. RPM. MPH. Distance. Time. Comparables.

All these things are quantifiable. But it can be a real pain to track them.

Wahoo Fitness is cracking that nut. Using not separate dedicated devices but instead recent iterations of the iPhone, iPad or iPad mini, Wahoo Fitness melds data from its own devices and apps with other smart device apps to provide a comprehensive statistical overview of your workout or training sessions. Examples of compatible apps include Strava, iRunner, MapMyWalk, MapMyDOGWALK, MotionX GPS, TargetWeight and on and on. (The Wahoo Fitness Web site provides a slew of them.)

Wahoo Fitness covers the gamut of athletic activities: Cycling, running, walking, hiking. There’s even a “Balance Smartphone Scale” that tracks weight loss or gain and BMI. (As Bicycling magazine put it, the bathroom scale trumps all other data points.)

Wahoo makes a variety of iDevice, bluetooth-capable devices for monitoring fitness. Including: the “RFLKT” bike computer (mountable on handlebars). The KICKR PowerTrainer featured in the video below. The SmartPhone Scale. An armband, a heart rate strap and a speed/cadence sensor.

We’re still taking in the incredible array of Wahoo Fitness capabilities. But recalling the days of clunky monochromatic displays and awkward bike rollers or stationary cycles, where the number of soaked towels was the best indicator of workout effectiveness, we can appreciate how digital technology in Wahoo’s ingenious hands is creating a whole new world for managing fitness athletics.

Although there weren’t any demo bikes in my size Large, I did the parking lot test on a Medium and was struck by a couple of things.

First, it’s by far the plushest 27.5 bike I’ve encountered. With 6.6 inches of rear travel and the DW-link, it has that nice Barcalounger feel to it when you sit back. Most of the other 650b/27.5 bikes are in the 6-inch range, including the attention-getting new Bronson carbon from Santa Cruz.

Second, for all its plushness it handled really well. The 14.1-inch bottom bracket, 66.5-degree head angle and short rear triangle gave it a flickability I would not have expected, and have not found, in larger wheel sizes.

It made me wonder if longer travel isn’t the geometric “sweet spot” for the 27.5 wheel size. Shorter travel just doesn’t accentuate the larger wheel size enough, diminishing its versatility, in my experience anyway. I spoke with several experienced 650b/27.5 riders, and most were on the shorter-travel, cross-country side of the equation. They also tended to be a bit shorter than me — 5-9 and 5-10 range.

I’ll look forward to demo-ing a Large when they become available. For now, Chris gives the full rundown on Pivot’s new Firebird 27.5 in this interview.

If there’s a silver lining to having your bikes stolen, it’s the growing anti-theft network.

Cyclists are banding together digitally to help fight bike crime. Online tools can be exceedingly effective for not only getting the word out but getting the bikes back.

And then there’s the social aspect to it. Once I posted my loss on one list, I started hearing back from friends and associates all over. Most of them are connected with the bike culture, but I also got pinged by non-biking folks.

Jenny Oh’s San Francisco-based site is particularly wired. It seems that clubs, shops and bloggers are plugged into Jenny’s Google group. I heard about it from Epicenter Cycling in Santa Cruz, posted my sad tale, and within minutes was hearing from bike compatriots all over the Bay Area.

I also blogged here on BikeIntelligencer, of course. And tweeted. And linked to Facebook’s BikeIntelligencer page.

Mountain Bikers of Santa Cruz hosts a bike theft page as well, with lots of great tips. But beware: I followed each and every one, and my bikes still got stolen. A shop friend told me he locks his 4 bikes together INSIDE his apartment with a New York Fuhgettaboudit lock under the assumption that there’s no way 4 bikes would fit through a doorway.

The gold embroidery of the silver lining to bike theft: The sympathy factor. It’s a good feeling to know so many people have your back. Plus it just boosts your chances all that more of your bikes being found.

So far, nothing yet. I’m checking Craigslist and eBay. My friend Dave Smith at ShuttlesmithAdventures.com has the local posse out. All the shops I know are keeping an eye out as well for a fully tricked Pivot Firebird and Ibis Mojo SL.

But nothing like this: Our prized Pivot Firebird and Ibis Mojo SL, both fully pimped. Taken overnight from the back patio of our Santa Cruz apartment.

We thought we were protected. We had linked together two New York Fuhgettaboudit chains and run them through two big cinder blocks as well as all four wheels and both frames. We did this because there was no secure, fixed attachment to lock the bikes to.

Between midnight and 7 a.m. last Sunday, thieves lifted the whole assembly and carried it off. There were at least three of them, maybe more. It weighed at least 150 pounds.

The patio is enclosed inside a 7-foot-high wooden fence. You can’t see through it. These scumbags had cased the place and scoped out the job well ahead of time.

Usually when I hear of a bike theft, I think: Well at least that won’t happen to me. I thought I had it dialed.

But for all of you foolish enough to think as I did, here’s the reality. Thieves are getting more sophisticated — and desperate. They’ll stop at nothing. Just about everyone has a story to tell, and some of them defy imagination.

For instance:

One owner of four bikes was out riding when thieves raided his garage, breaking the lock. He disassembled and locked his remaining bike inside his car. Thieves broke into his car and stole that bike too.

A guy went to a high-end San Jose bike shop with his bike cable-locked on the roof of his car. He had line of sight out the store’s front windows. A box truck momentarily pulled up in front of the store, blocking his view. When the truck drove on, his bike was gone from his car.

A couple went out riding at Wilder Ranch. After the ride they drove back home up in the woods above Soquel. A long driveway, well out of sight of passing traffic. They went in to go to the bathroom. When they came back out, the bikes were gone. They’d been followed home from the ride.

I once had a bike stolen from the back of my Eurovan during lunch hour in downtown Portland. It was locked with both a cable and U-lock. Police speculated a van pulled up alongside mine, two or three guys jumped out and within seconds broke the locks, severed the cable and took the bike.

Anyway, you get the picture. If you think your bike is secure, think again. The only way to keep it totally safe is to have it by your side at all times.

So that’s my sad story. Here’s the description I’m circulating on the lists:

My fully tricked out mountain bikes were stolen this past Sunday (1/6/2013) in Santa Cruz. Ibis Mojo with Easton Carbon Haven wheels, Pace racing fork and all high-end components. Distinctive parts include gold Marta brakes, gold Hope bottom bracket and gold ODI grip ends. The frame, size Large and matte (black) with blue highlights, was spotless, brand new as of March 2012. Serial No. 11M1563

Pivot Firebird was similarly fitted, with gold Chris King bottom bracket and gold Crankbrothers Candy 11 pedals. Mavic Crossmax ST wheels, Formula The One brakes, KS Lev dropper seat post. Fox Talas 36 Kashima fork. Frame Large, black anodized. Distinctive decal with World Champion rings on seat tube. Serial No. L9C09031026.

I’m sick as you can imagine. Please message me if any leads.

In the meantime, there’s this:

With Lance Armstrong finally confessing the way we advised him all along …

The question now is: Besides confessing, will Lance apologize?

For us at BikeIntelligencer, an apology would be the final nail in the Lance Armstrong image reconstruction project.

The doping we always understood. Lance led cycling into professional sport’s most endemic doping era and was its best and highest practitioner — or worst and lowest, depending on how you look at it.

To win, Lance had to dope. But so did virtually every other cyclist at Tour de France levels. The ones who didn’t dope, didn’t win. Simple as that.

That’s why we always argued that Lance should just come clean, with the “Everybody did it” excuse. Then we could all move on.

With a confession, the issue becomes Lance’s behavior to his fans, the media and his fellow cyclists over the years. Armstrong not only bullied other cyclists into doping, he bullied anyone who challenged his honesty.

A confession won’t fully make amends. Only a full, heartfelt, believable apology will provide closure and allow us all to go forward with peace of mind.

With an apology, we can get back to focusing on Lance’s amazing athletic accomplishments and the admirable work his foundation has done and is doing. With an apology, we can close the door on all the bad karma Lance fomented over the years.

With an apology, maybe Lance can become a hero again.