The Ibis Ripmo may be the perfect bike. And how could Ibis update the perfect bike? Well, Travis got a couple short weeks on the new 2025 Ibis Ripmo V3,  and it turns out you can do a lot more than just straighten the top tube.

If you came to me for advice on which high-end full-suspension mountain bike to buy, but I couldn’t ask about you, your trails, or your preferences, I’d probably just tell you to buy an Ibis Ripmo. That’s been my sales pitch ever since the Ripmo’s introduction in 2018, when it earned its clever portmanteau by sneaking in between the Ripley and Mojo HD. The Ripmo is more than a jack-of-all-trades. Had Ibis simply averaged out all the various behaviors of its two adjacent models, we’d have gotten something a bit murky, which can happen sometimes. At launch, the Ripmo had 145 mm of rear travel and 160 up front. That’s a tricky category, home to perfectly cromulent bikes like the Santa Cruz Hightower and Scor 4060. But the Ripmo was different. It had a surprising amount of pep in its step. It was the kind of upper-mid-travel bike that tugged at the leash on difficult climbs, while also smoothing them out. And Ibis team athletes actually raced it on the world enduro stage. Except, most of us are not Ibis team athletes. For mortals like myself, it was the sort of bike that wouldn’t necessarily make a rowdy descent easy, but it would always make it.

The Ripmo AF came soon after. It brought down the price with an Aluminum Frame and brought up the capability with slightly more aggressive geo and a slightly more progressive leverage curve. The carbon Ripmo later adopted the AF’s updates, and that’s more or less where it stood for about four and a half years. Nearly half a decade would usually seem like a long time to wait for a top-to-bottom update, but to be honest, nothing about that second-generation Ripmo has felt especially outdated. The geometry has kept up, the suspension is coil-compatible, and it’s now even got a UDH. It almost had me wondering what Ibis would change for its third generation.

Ibis Ripmo Quick Hits

• 150 mm rear travel, 160 mm front
• Mixed-wheel or dual-29 compatible via flip chip
• Five frame sizes
• Small and medium builds are sold mixed-wheel only
• “Extra medium,” large, and XL builds are sold matched-29 only
• Carbon-only (for now), but the current-gen Ripmo AF will remain available
• DW-link suspension
• In-frame downtube storage
• 33.1 lbs, size large, no pedals

Turns out, they changed a lot. Most obviously, they abandoned the swooping top tube, which was totally acceptable in 2019 but just feels unfashionable in 2024. Second most obviously, they added downtube storage. It unlatches with a nice long, positive-feeling lever positioned on the drive-side of the cage mount, making it easy to open and close with the bike upright or laying down, with or without a bottle, with or without gloves.

Under the door is a pair of bags that are included with every Ripmo. They were made by sustainability-focused pack and apparel brand, Cotopaxi. One is a simple single-compartment zipper bag, while the one above it closes with velcro and has straps for a small mini pump and its own small zippered internal side pouch. The colors on each production bag may vary slightly, because whenever possible, they’re made partially with leftover material from Cotopaxi’s factory. Plus, the often brightly colored inner liner does make things easier to find.

Also inside the frame is a newly adopted 34.9 mm seatpost. This wider-diameter configuration may forever be an outlier, but I wish more brands would adopt it. It does make for a slightly heavier post, but I think longevity trumps weight when we’re talking about droppers. 34.9 posts are able to ease the burden on their bushings with larger-diameter upper tubes, making for a more durable, smoother-running chassis. Some 34.9 posts are just 31.6 posts with thicker-walled lowers, which isn’t ideal. But the Bike Yoke Revive 3 post that is specced on all but the least expensive Ripmo does get the more robust construction top to bottom. It’s also completely user-serviceable.

I guess there was one thing on the old Ripmo that was getting a little long-in-the-tooth, and that’s the long wishbone previously driving the rear shock. Many brands have been phasing these out because they create a less-than-optimal relative bushing overlap. There’s potentially a lot of bending load on the shock internals because a long wishbone essentially increases the shock’s length beyond what the manufacturer may have designed for. The new Ripmo’s shorter wishbone also plays better with coil shocks, whose narrow damper shafts are more sensitive to extreme lateral loads.

And connected to that little wishbone is a flip-chip, but it’s not for geometry adjustment. It’s for mixed-wheel compatibility. Ibis claims it has pretty much no effect on suspension kinematics, and instead serves to keep the ride consistent when you swap from a 29-inch wheel to a 27.5. Every frame size Ripmo can be converted, but the small and medium sizes will be shipped mixed-wheel, while the extra medium, large, and extra large sizes will ship with matched 29”. And yes, I said “extra medium.”

Similar to the “medium / large” size offered by some brands, “extra medium” or “XM” is probably the peak of the bell curve for North American male riders. By introducing a fifth size to the previously four-size-wide Ripmo range, Ibis seeks to give more riders a better fit. And keeping with the trend of two of my last three review bikes, I opted for a size large, not my usual extra large. Because of course, Ibis did update the geometry.

The new Ripmo’s head angle got slacker, but by less than a half a degree. Also, the effective seat angles got steeper, and now increase as frame size increases. And praise be, Ibis publishes the saddle height from which they measure the angle. But regardless their actual seat tube angles aren’t too radical, which already makes fit easier to calculate. And, as a bonus, that creates incredibly deep post insertion for wide dropper-length compatibility. Also size-specific are the chainstays, but just barely. Only 2 mm growth (or less) per size. And interestingly, Ibis even did size-specific bottom-bracket height. Very interestingly, because they get higher as size increases. I might argue that taller riders should have lower bottom brackets, but Ibis also gives taller riders longer crankarms, so it’s probably a thoughtful choice. And of course, giving bigger heavier riders lower bottom brackets would be tricky on a full-suspension bike, which I think makes this a great place to segue into how the thing actually rode.

Climbing

As much as I’d like to get into the weeds about that bottom-bracket height thing, I can’t really gripe because I found it to be perfect on my test bike. The YT Jeffsy I just reviewed had identical travel and a 6mm lower bottom bracket. During my time on the Jeffsy I really had to stay on my toes if I wanted to stay off my toes, if you know what I mean. And though I did have some pedal strikes on the Ripmo, it wasn’t a constant occurrence. That might have more to do with the DW linkage than it does with three nickels worth of extra clearance.

Not unlike the Ripmo itself, I think a DW-Link suspension platform is probably the safest bet you can make. This long-proven short-link design checks the most boxes for the most riders. It allows frame designers to make use of just about every watt you put into the pedals without sacrificing the suspension’s ability to track uneven ground and maintain momentum.

Of course, like every suspension design, DW-Link is what its licensee makes of it. Within reason, a DW-Link bike can be more supportive or more gushy, depending on the desired effect. But on this generation Ripmo, it’s decidedly more supportive. I would normally add a qualifier to that statement, like “…for a 150 mm bike.” But that would sound like I’m about to make excuses, or like I’m just calling it “good enough.” I am not. This thing really really likes to pedal.

And that’s despite my downhill-biased suspension settings, which were in full effect after a few shakedown rides on the Ripmo. I always end up with a little softer-than-recommended shock and firmer-than-recommended fork. It’s a worthwhile sacrifice on the climbs to have my optimal balance on the descents. And if that optimization ever leaves me with a lethargic climber, I’m not afraid to use a lockout. In fact, I’m pretty good at it. It’s been years since I’ve forgotten to open it back up for a descent. It’s become almost as instinctive as shifting, but the instinct almost never struck me on the Ripmo.

I’m not saying the bike felt locked out. No 150 mm bike should. Maybe the  77° seat tube angle and my slammed-forward saddle were doing some of the work to keep me out of the doldrums, but the real magic happened when my pedaling got more forceful. I didn’t have to be gentle or neutral to prevent the Ripmo from dipping. And I run flat pedals, so it’s sometimes hard to be gentle or neutral. Especially on steep, cruxy climbs, the Ripmo maintained a delightfully turgid pedaling platform, if my thesaurus serves me right.

But what I think makes a good DW-Link bike stand out is when that platform meets a chunky climb. There’s a bike-review buzzword that I try to save for special occasions, and that’s “hoverbike.” It’s when a bike just seems to float through bumpy climbs. It doesn’t matter that, down at the cranks and wheels, there’s a frantic effort to cover ground with as much speed as I can sustain. Up at the saddle and bars, it’s relatively smooth sailing. And when I get that sensation while testing a bike, I’ll try to see how far I can push it. I’ll purposely time a pedal stroke and square edge to meet at exactly the wrong moment. It upsets the peacefulness, but a true hoverbike won’t give up much momentum.

And hoverbikeness is always relative. I’d say the last Pivot Trail 429 I rode was a hoverbike, but at 120 mm of travel, the cushion of air it hovers on is rather firm. And before that, the Evil Wreckoning was a hoverbike, but it’s got 170 mm, making it a very different kind of hoverbike. This phenomenon is particularly special on the new Ripmo because it hovered like it had less than 150 mm of travel. It actually reminded me of the 130 mm Revel Rascal. Again, keeping in mind that I’m running below the recommended rear pressure, it’s pretty astounding that the Ripmo climbed like a trail bike with less aggressive numbers while maintaining such remarkable comfort and traction. It’s like I was a Looney Tunes character, floating over chunky climbs on the anthropomorphized scent of freshly baked apple pie.

Even my body position seemed to be leaning into the climbs. Literally, in fact. Thanks to my freakish saddle-position preferences, I’m not used to being the least bit stretched out in the cockpit. Although the top-tube length wasn’t out of the ordinary on my size-large test bike, I did end up swapping the 50 mm stem for a 35. I know short stems are more of a descending feature, but I’d need to insert my favorite subheading if I want to talk about that.

Descending

Normally, the new Ripmo would be on the very enduro-most outer edge of what I’d consider bringing in for review on The Radavist. I mean, just look at it. The thing has “send” written all over it. In fact, it’s literally written on the rims … the 32-hole, 35mm-wide rims, wrapped in EXO+ Maxxis tires. It’s also got a Fox 36 fork, mixed-wheel compatibility, and a sub-65° head tube angle. But on the trail, the Ripmo is much more nuanced than its silhouette might imply.

During my time on the YT Jeffsy and Scor 4060, they stood out for their ground-huggy-ness. They were always eager to offer up big chunks of travel immediately on impact. Sometimes too eager for my taste. That might be a desirable trait if your main goal is simply going fast and/or staying safe. But neither of those bikes were predisposed to playing around, at least not without some aggressive use of volume spacers. The Ripmo, in contrast, loves playing around. And in a way that few 150 mm bikes do. I have a nearby shakedown loop that I use to dial in initial suspension settings, and it’s a bit of a torture test. Flow is scarce and rocks are abundant. It’s the kind of trail that demands a lot from both sides of my brain, and the Ripmo is here for it.

The most common way this would manifest was when I needed to lift the wheels off the ground. The preloading process was delightfully brief, and I could get on the safe side of a rut with a flick of the ankles. But what I most enjoyed was the ease with which I could wind my way through a chaotic rock section. I like to do a lot of “rear-wheel steering,” where I lean into an off-camber obstacle and let the tire deflect its way into the optimal direction. Technically, it’s skidding, but it’s almost always over rocks, not soil. And I don’t touch the rear brake. No jury would convict me. I’m not roosting berms. It’s just a way to have a more three-dimensional relationship with the rear half of the bike, which is usually hard to do with this much travel.

Even though 150/160 is sub-enduro, it’s often just enough travel to condition you to simply point and shoot instead of bob and weave. But I didn’t find the Ripmo to be a point-and-shoot sort of bike. At least not until the sightlines opened up and my momentum allowed me to hit things fast and hard. At more moderate (but still consequential) speeds, the bike seemed reluctant to give up much of its rear travel until a sudden drop or poor line choice forced its hand. Even at my deeper sag settings, that platform I enjoyed on the climbs was still there on the descents, for better or worse.

I did my requisite volume-spacer swapping and air-pressure dropping in an effort to make the bike give up its travel a little more easily, but I ended up sacrificing too much of the mid-stroke support I loved so much. Since the Ripmo boasts that it plays so well with a coil shock, I’d like to see that as an off-the-shelf build option someday. I reckon it would help make the Ripmo as forgiving as some of the more compliant 150 mm bikes out there. But then again, not everyone turns to this category seeking forgiveness. The REEB Steezl, for example, also chose support over softness in its air-shock configuration. That thing was a hoot. So, I met the Ripmo on its terms, and we did some pretty fun stuff together.

Those moderate-but-still-consequential speeds are exactly where I want to perform the little party tricks I so wordily described above. They’re the speeds where, if I’m honest with myself, I spend most of my time. Open sightlines and hard hits are few and far between in my mountains. If they were more common, I’d probably still be a card-carrying overbiker. Instead, my pendulum has swung to bikes like my Canyon Spectral 125. But the problem is how quickly that bike gets me into trouble. The geometry is so forgiving and the fit is so familiar that I’ll just huck it into scenarios where its travel (and my skill) just can’t keep up. When doing the same thing on the Ripmo, it was an entirely different story.

I recently took a field trip down to Laguna Beach to beat the L.A. heat, and the trails hit different there. You see a lot more people pushing DH bikes up steep ridgelines with full-faced helmets hanging off their handlebars and knee pads loose around their ankles. There’s endless opportunity for sustained high speed, and plenty of sections where it will overwhelm an average trail bike. That’s where the Ripmo’s diverse ingredients really came together. One second, I was making a last-minute line change. The next second, I was letting go of the brakes in hopes I’d gain enough speed to skip across a deeply wrinkled limestone slab to safely reach the runout below. And I always did. The Ripmo adeptly manages chaotic high-intensity impacts without feeling numb everywhere else.

The versatility in the suspension behavior pairs well with the frame geometry. Again, I eventually swapped for a shorter stem and put all four spacers below it. That gave the bike the same downhill priority that I give to the loops I string together in my local mountains. But the stock setup did offer a more balanced weight distribution on technical seated climbs, and I might have stuck with it if my topography were more finely mixed.

Speaking of mixed, I only got in one ride with the 27.5-inch rear wheel. As someone 6’2″ who has no problems with 29″ rear wheels, I’d liken it to playing a video game in a slightly higher difficulty level. It’s more fun and rewarding, but only if you’re pretty good at it. Thankfully, that one mixed-wheel ride was on a trail I am pretty good at. That rear-wheel steering was easier, and I found I was able to get myself out of trouble more quickly. And I’m not sure if there’s logic behind this, but when I started losing it in an off-camber turn, I had an easier time trusting the front wheel traction and wrenching myself back in line. Again no science there, but it happened twice in my back-to-back wheel size experiments. And of course, I loved the freedom the mixed-wheel setup offered in the steeps.

Those short-but-not-too-short chainstays also stood out in the steeps. Even back on the matched 29s, it was easy to get the front wheel off the ground to nudge my way off a rock drop or to dip into a quick manual. I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer in the chainstay-length debate, and I’m sure I would have found things to love about the Ripmo if there were an extra 10 mm out back. But given how naturally nimble this bike is, I appreciated that it didn’t force me further into a DH racer’s wheelbase just because I’m tall.

Builds and Value

The major through-line under all of the Ripmo’s updates is thoughtfulness. The geometry is thoughtful. The suspension layout is thoughtful. The in-frame storage and threaded bottom bracket and 34.9 seatpost are thoughtful. They even stuck with a press-in 44/56 headset in anticipation of some riders opting for angle-adjust headsets. And the way Ibis builds these bikes up is definitely thoughtful. Of course, the top-end models are both SRAM Transmission. But at least for now, all the cable-actuated builds run on Shimano. There’s an XT, an SLX and a Deore option. Everyone’s got different opinions on the SRAM vs. Shimano debate, but I was stoked to see a proud XT build show up at my doorstep for testing.

And then there’s the little things. Ibis stuck with the bushings in the lower link instead of bearings, and stands by them by offering to replace those bushings for the life of the bike. And the Maxxis EXO+ casing tires pair well with the kind of bashing this bike is so good at. And those Black Bird Send wheels use the most cutting-edge alloy rims I’ve ever seen. There are hollow sections inside the bead walls so they can be strong and wide but still light. I’ve actually got a set on the way that I’ll build up for a review in the coming months. And all the builds get a 30-tooth chainring, which I’m appreciating more and more these days.

And brace yourself, because I’m about to praise this post-inflation full-carbon full-suspension bike’s value. It bears mentioning that we’re not talking about a direct-to-consumer brand. You can buy one of these in a brick-and-mortar bike shop. In a time when we’re used to seeing flagship models with five-figure price tags, the $8,500 X01 Transmission Ripmo is almost kinda refreshing. And then at the other end, there’s the $5,000 Deore build. Now, keep in mind that the current-gen aluminum Ripmo AF will continue forward in the lineup unchanged for the time being, starting at $3,000. And though it’s lacking the updates given to the carbon version today, the Ripmo AF is still far from outdated. But the entry-level carbon Ripmo V3 is pretty attractively specced. You get the same Factory-series Fox Float X rear shock that’s in the entire rest of the lineup. And the same Black Bird Send wheelset, which is also in the entire rest of the lineup, unless you go for the Industry Nine upgrade option in the XT, GX and XO builds. Add a Marzocchi Bomber Z1 fork, and the lower-priced models have some pretty good bones.

I think that’s the perfect way to sum up the new Ripmo. It’s the sort of bike where you can build whatever you want off it. It’s a comfortable all-day pedaler, as well as a rewarding all-out pedaler. It’s great for having a little fun on the descents, and leaves enough travel on reserve in case you have a little too much fun. In fact, why did I even have to come up with 3,500 words talking about it? More likely than not, it’s probably the right bike for you.

Pros:

• Efficient and energetic climber
• Suspension remains active under pedaling load
• More nimble than most 150 mm bikes
• Good value and smart spec choices
• Thoughtful design choices like…
  • In-frame storage
  • 34.9 seat tube
  • No-compromise mixed-wheel compatibility
  • No thru-headset cable routing

Cons:

• Suspension is not as supple as other 150 mm bikes on chunky moderate-speed descents

See more at Ibis