Gravel Culture: The Heavyweight champion of the world
Posted By Gravel Union
On 23 August 2020
Is it acceptable to be anything less than positive about a bike which you have been loaned or is this just pushing your luck?
I’d like to introduce you all to The Belgian. When I first sent a picture of my bike to a good friend of mine, his response was that The Belgian looked “workmanlike”. That was diplomatic code for “looks a bit industrial/chunky/not the most handsome gravel bike ever”.
I should start by saying that I’m incredibly fortunate to have been loaned The Belgian as part of my job. He’s mine to use whenever I like (as long as I look after him properly) and he’s been my partner in crime on a LOT of gravel rides since I took ownership of him nearly a year ago. The Belgian has been instrumental in getting me hooked on the joys of gravel riding on a ‘proper’ gravel bike. Previously I would have used a CX bike or a monster cross bike, but now 99% of the time, if I’m riding gravel the chances are I’ll be riding The Belgian.
He’s called The Belgian because under the skin he’s actually a Ridley Kanzo A gravel bike. He came from a Ridley dealer located just down the road from the UK Gravel Union office, but they are licenced to sell the frames under their own brand (“Sycul” – think
cycle), as well as selling the Ridley branded version.
If you were to do the normal carpark test of picking him up, your first impression would be that The Belgian is quite a big lad. In fact, he weighs approximately the same as a small tank. He is specced with some decent kit, but everything is obviously built for strength and durability rather than being über-lightweight.
If you were to take him out for a ride, depending on what kind of experience you had of bikes in the past, I suspect your description would be solid, dependable, predictable. Probably “a bit on the stiff side” would be what you were actually thinking, but you would be far too diplomatic to say that wouldn’t you? I normally run the 50mm WTB Venture tyres at 25psi/1.7 bar and have them set up tubeless, which helps give the ride some cushioning and absorb some of the impact vibrations, but not all of them. The borderline unforgiving ride does have one benefit – it forces you to think about your line choice and body English, which hopefully translates to improved skills when I’m riding a different bike.
If The Belgian is built for strength rather than speed and has a somewhat less-than-forgiving ride, why do I love riding him so much? Surely a more spritely, lightweight, Tupperware carbon fibre bike would be a much better choice? I pondered this question for quite a while.
I’m fortunate enough to have ridden
a lot of different bikes during the years that I’ve been involved professionally in the bike industry, including some eye wateringly expensive race bikes which weighed nothing and had all the bells and whistles you could ask for. But a lot of them were missing the vital ingredient – soul.
Most of the ride ‘feel’ comes down to a bike’s geometry. How long is the top tube/what is the head angle/how much trail does the fork have, what’s the ratio of reach-to-stack etc etc. Ridley describe the Kanzo A as their “alloy gravel bike for adventurous riders on a budget. Thanks to its stable geometry, this bike rides like a dream in those long, straighter sections of trails” I’ve tweaked the ride feel of The Belgian by stuffing in tyres that are bigger than they recommend – it’s marginally lifted the bottom bracket height and lengthened the effective wheelbase, which you would have thought would have dulled the ride feel and made the bike feel more ploddy and less willing to turn, but it actually feels spot on!
The relatively heavy wheels/fat tyre combo undoubtedly slow the acceleration of the bike, but they add increased stability and after initial mega-faffage to get them set up tubeless was forgotten about, have proved reliable and durable. I initially had the bike set up with 650B wheels, which worked perfectly well, but it didn’t really shine – it was a bit magnolia – perfectly OK, but not amazing. Now with bigger wheels shoehorned in, the bike is stable enough to be ridden no-handed on gravel trails, but flickable enough to be fun on tight/twisty trails. And it really is fun.
Every single time I ride The Belgian (and I mean literally every time) he makes me smile. He makes me grimace when I pick him up and he rattles my fillings loose even with his tyres run soft, but he is also ridiculously good fun to ride. I’ve ridden him up flights of steps, down crazy steep singletrack, through thick sand, across ancient greasy forded stream crossings, through muddy puddles, over grassy fields and most importantly, on every grade of gravel known to humankind and
everywhere he makes me grin like a lunatic.
Not that it’s all important, but I’ve also taken more Strava KOMs on The Belgian than I have on any other bike I’ve ever ridden – uphill, downhill, twisty ones, flat-out-dead-straight ones where you think you’re going to explode by the end. There is just something intangible about The Belgian’s ability to make you eke out a little more speed from your legs, a little more skill from your battered body and a much bigger grin across your face.
Although he’s more heavyweight bruiser than lightweight racing snake, he’s just pure, flat-out, unadulterated fun to ride.
And I can’t think of a better reason to be a proud owner of The Belgian than that.