Ask someone in, say, Utrecht about the idea of a “commuter bike” and they’ll give you a puzzled look. In such more civilised cycling cultures, a bike is a bike, and is generally weighty, upright, bomb-proof and festooned with dynamo lights, baskets and child seats.
In the UK it can be a different matter. Here, with cyclists usually obliged to share the road with motor traffic, many prefer a more nippy machine for going to and from the office, often the ubiquitous hybrid, sometimes even a road bike.
I occasionally undertake my six-mile commute on a sturdy Dutch-made Gazelle bike. It’s largely fine, though I do sometimes think my relatively sedate pace on a machine weighing almost 20kg can make drivers a bit impatient, more likely to cut across me or try a close overtake. This happens less often if I’m on a lighter, more nimble bike.
It goes without saying that many people can, and do, happily commute on such everyday machines. That said, the fairly broad concept for this test was thus to see what’s on offer if you want such a UK-style commuter bike that’s a bit different from the usual.
To this end, the three machines below all have different frame materials – aluminium, carbon fibre, steel – and different gear systems. One has hub gears with a belt drive instead of a chain; another has derailleur gears in the currently fashionable 1x11 arrangement; the third is a single speed. If that wasn’t enough they range in price from £600 to £1,700.
All will pleasurably speed you to and from work for years to come, so in part it comes down to what else you might want from a bike. Mounts for a luggage rack so you can go touring? Almost maintenance-free mechanics? Enough gears to head off road? This is where things get even more interesting.
A final note on price. Yes, two of them are expensive, more than most people spend on a commuter. That’s in part because bike companies like you to try out their more flash models if possible, and I’ve yet to gain the mental strength to say no. But plenty of cheaper variants exist. You can get a different brand of belt drive/disc brake hybrid for around £600. Planet X do more basic equivalents of the bike below.
BMC Alpenchallenge AC01 Alfine 8 - £1,499
It might be painted in a tastefully understated grey, but this upmarket “urban bicycle”, as the Swiss company styles it, nonetheless looks unmistakably flash, with its low-slung flat handlebars and unusual frame shape.
More bling still, of course, is the transmission: in place of a greasy chain is a sleek, broad-toothed carbon belt drive, clean to the touch and near silent. Belt drives have been around for a while now, but remain little seen, in part because they’re notably more expensive than a chain. Riding the BMC around town a few people noticed the belt and asked about it.
It runs an eight-speed hub gear system, and the brakes are hydraulic discs. Given belt drives last around three or so times longer than a chain, all this equals a bike that should need virtually no everyday maintenance. The bad news is that when something does go wrong, for most people it will mean a trip to the bike shop. The belts themselves are supposedly very tricky to fit to the right alignment and tension.
Either way, the Alpenchallenge – an odd name for a bike designed for city streets rather than mountains – is great fun to ride. The aluminium frame is hugely stiff and responsive for pulling away at traffic lights, and thanks in part to the generous 28mm tyres, doesn’t feel tooth-rattlingly harsh. It reminded me of the early 90s aluminium Klein mountain bike I commuted on for years, which is high praise.
That said, I couldn’t help feeling the BMC might be more fun still in its cheaper, derailleur-geared variant. While the belt rolls smoothly, the hub gears, though simple to use, add noticeable weight to the rear wheel. I also found the Alfine system a touch woolly, with a tiny but noticeable lag when first pushing the pedals, and apt to stick slightly when changing gear quickly.
Sure, a chain would be greasy, but the office clothes-friendliness of the belt drive is partly cancelled out by the lack of any apparent way to add a luggage rack to the bike. Your suit trouser cuffs might be clean when you arrive at the office, but your back could be sweaty from carrying a bag.
Unlike the other two bikes, the BMC is unashamedly an urban specialist. You’d struggle to strap on a tent and head off to the countryside. But if it only does one thing, it does this pretty well, albeit for a price.
On One Bish Bash Bosh - £1,699.99
I love the Bish Bash Bosh, even as I feel slightly silly every time I have to type its onomatopoeic name. Since we’re getting caveats out of the way, the luminous orange colour scheme won’t be for everyone. Finally, this is a £1,700 bike. You’d hope it would be good for that price.
And it is. From the off-road brand of Rotherham-based online bike empire Planet X, the BBB, as I shall call it from now on, is that very current type of machine known as a gravel bike, or adventure bike. Purists might sniff that a) you can ride most sort of bikes on gravel and b) these are really just cyclocross bikes remarketed for the leisure rider.
Both points are correct. Both are, however, irrelevant the moment you hoist yourself onto the BBB and head off, a broad smile spreading across your face.
This, in effect, a lightweight, carbon fibre cyclocross bike with a less racy but more confidence-inspiring raised front end, clearance for big tyres, hydraulic disc brakes and all the necessary eyelets for mudguards and a rack. You can commute, you can race, you can pootle off road, you can tour. And you can do all these things while standing out like a bright orange beacon.
While the BBB has standard derailleur gearing, this is in the newly fashionable cyclocross layout of one chainring at the front, and a big-range cassette at the back (an 11-36 in this case, if you’re interested). It gives plenty enough of a range for almost anything, and dispensing with the front derailleur, the theory goes, is one less thing to go wrong or worry about. For a commuter bike this makes perfect sense.
And as a do-it-all commuter the BBB is fantastic, even given the slight sluggishness from its chunky off-road tyres, which I couldn’t be bothered to change. The BBB manages to be both lightweight and nippy, and hugely confidence-inspiring. It’s partly the riding position, partly the brakes. Hydraulic discs are still quite new to drop-bar bikes, and are wonderful – consistent and easy to control, even in greasy winter rain.
But take the BBB further afield and it’s even more fun. It skipped nimbly along a slippery sand path, rolled easily on gravel, even slid happily through so much mud it took me a good hour to wipe it down sufficiently to send back to Rotherham with a clean conscience.
Yes, for most people £1,700 is a lot to pay for a bike. But if you have the cash to hand, and space for only one bike, this could do it all.
Genesis Day One 10 - £599.99
Pitting a £600 bike against ones costing more than twice as much might seem unfair. But fear not: the Day One is a very different beast, but nonetheless holds its own. And if you did have £1,500 or £1,700 to spend you could always buy the Genesis and another bike as well.
The Day One looks beautiful, with the understated blue/grey of the purist-friendly slim chromoly steel frame. Tap the bike’s top tube and it gives a hugely satisfying clang.
At a shade more than 10kg, this isn’t a featherweight, but it’s incredibly satisfying to ride. Steel frames are known to be comfortable, and the Day One is no exception, though in truth this is likely to be just as much to do with the fast-rolling but very wide 35mm Continental tyres.
It has cable-operated disc brakes, not as powerful as the On One’s hydraulic ones but perfectly good, meaning your wheel rims will last that much longer.
As a commuter it’s no slouch, either. On the standard London unofficial race from the traffic lights the Genesis gets up to speed quickly, even with the single speed gearing.
Ah yes, the single speed. This is a subject that provokes a mysterious fury in some readers. I’m agnostic on the merits of such bikes. Some years back I converted an elderly road bike to single speed and loved the simplicity, though I eventually tired of the inability to change down the gears and be lazy when mood, tiredness or a headwind merited it.
The Day One is a freewheel single speed rather than a fixie, and has a relatively gentle 42x17 gear ratio, big enough for the flats but not too painful on the admittedly fairly short climbs on my commute.
And anyway, if you want gears, or single speed bikes annoy you for some personal reason, with a bit more money and a bit more weight the Day One also comes in hub-geared variants.
The Day One frame comes with mounts for mudguards and, if you fancy hauling more weight with the single gear, front and rear luggage racks. Basically it will do anything.