What makes you smile while riding a bike? This question, and many more, brought our European correspondent – and big-time Star Wars aficionado – Petor Georgallou to purchase a Sturdy Cycles Cilla gravel bike (£8000) last year that he’s now dubbed an X-Wing. Did this futuristic titanium rebel alliance fighter-of-choice live up to his expectations? Read on to find out…

Over the past year, I’ve been riding one bike more than any other. It’s a bike that I’ve been itching to review, but with frequent changes to the platform, slowly dialing it in to be what I want it to be, I’d been waiting for it to reach its final form before tapping out my thoughts, but Morgan’s review of their Frameworks spurred me on to get pen to paper on where I’m at with my custom Sturdy Cilla. While the two brands have almost polar opposite approaches to manufacture, and in many ways ethos, they are in some ways comparable in terms of the degree of in-house design and iteration they each put out. Morgan and I had very different approaches to commissioning our very different bikes, but both went through a similar process. While Morgan’s Frameworks began with numbers, my Sturdy started with a question.

When You’re Riding a Bike, What Makes You Smile?

The T-65B X-wing starfighter was originally designed by Incom Corporation for the imperial navy as a well-rounded, hyperdrive-equipped snubfighter before budget cuts and political maneuvers led the galactic empire to rely instead on the more cost-effective and modern TIE fighter. The secondhand X-wings were then adopted by the alliance to restore the Republic before the T-70 model, and finally, the T-85 superseded the original X-wing as the fighter of choice of the rebel alliance for two key reasons.

While the TIE fighters could outpace and outmaneuver the X-wing in galactic dogfights, the X-wing could easily outmaneuver and outgun the TIE fighter in the atmosphere. More critically, it is amongst the only small, single-pilot snub fighters equipped with a hyperdrive, a particularly useful asset for the rebel alliance. It meant that rebel pilots could navigate vast distances in space without the need for a carrier ship, and arrive out of nowhere, launched and ready to go.

I’m not generally a happy person, and so being asked, “What makes you smile?” really caught me off guard as one of only three questions Tom Sturdy asked me during our incredibly brief fit session. I thought for uncomfortably long before replying, “I don’t know if cycling is really about smiling for me.” I don’t think that really satisfied me or Tom, and the question lingered with me for a while. Tom continued making adjustments on a fitting jig, standing back and looking, and occasionally prodding my back and shoulders in a kind of mysterious way.

I was quietly panicking, like somehow I’d get the bike fit wrong, because I’m not a proper athlete like I should be to get a Sturdy, and so I did what people do when they panic: drawing up wildly contrasting scenarios that I’d ride the bike in, making it impossible for Tom to do his job well. I hurried to leave; I was late for something else, excited but also somehow unsatisfied. The bike fit was in my head a lot. Too much. I thought about it all the time, almost obsessively. I was too embarrassed to return for a second bike fit with Tom, having probably failed the first one. Instead of obsessing alone, I got in touch with Tony Corke (bike-fit Yoda and all-around good egg), who made time for me to have a second bike fit at Spoon Customs.

Surprisingly, the outcome was almost exactly the same – the only variation coming from my own opposing instructions at each fit. Where I asked Tom for a relatively upright position so I could look around better, I asked Tony for a performance-centric fit. That translated to 13 mm of stack difference between the two fits, which I later correlated with a bike fit from Tony 10 years earlier that had come out almost the same but 3mm shorter. The question was still grating on me though. A couple of weeks later, in a lucid moment, I found myself riding through Kensington into central London, pouring with caffeine (and adrenaline-infused sweat), wearing a maniacal grin, listening to the soundtrack to Wipeout Pure, weaving through traffic on my FBM Sword. I was smiling, so I replied to Tom with my amended answer. What makes me smile? “When it feels like I’m flying an X-wing.”

Building an X-wing

I’d been reviewing the Argonaut GR3, which was the best bike I’d ever ridden by a significant margin, so I wanted something similar but spacier. Additive manufactured metal parts have been around for a while but they still feel like an impossible future technology. There’s something so strange and improbable, almost uncanny, about the physical embodiment of a digitally designed part. Displaying all the minor flaws of physicality, the surface texture, bits that need to be cut off; the digital part’s effortless malleability crystallized into finite reality.

According to Plato in his text The Republic, the world exists in two realms: the physical, tangible, ever-changing finite world we live in, and the hyperreal realm of forms, where forms or ideas exist, ever constant, free from the constraints of time and space. Everything that exists, exists in both, where the divine form or idea informs the physical reality we inhabit as an object influences a shadow. There’s a dystopian renaissance to that theory in which the digital utopia has become the influencer of physicality rather than its silent record, and in that way, specifically Sturdy’s approach to printing has a timelessness to it, and a healthy separation from the kitsch gimmick of technology.

A few years ago I visited Sturdy’s old workshop. I was impressed by the extensive use of additive manufactured components in frame building as a process, but Tom’s practice as a builder transcends the novelty of using printed parts. For me, the Sturdy Cilla is about minimalism – it’s about having everything that’s needed and nothing that distracts from that. It’s about hygge but also utilitarianism, about having an appropriate and robust tool that can be manipulated to do the job of many tools. In that way it is a tool, not a toy, like a good knife, camera, or hammer, where its true value can only be experienced at a tacit and nuanced level so separate from the stats and numbers-based shopping through which products are sold in modernity. One of Mike Burrows’ catchphrases was always, “If rubber bands work, use rubber bands”.  While the Cilla can be, and often is made shiny because it’s expensive, and people like expensive things to be shiny, eye-catching status pieces, I see the Sturdy design aesthetic as both visually and philosophically austere. Leaning into that, I also acknowledge living in the spacey future that the original Star Wars generation could only imagine.

I wanted a bike with hyperdrive, which could comfortably traverse the abyss of space as a long distance, lightweight touring bike, be okay on the road – not as fast as a TIE fighter but able to keep up with some work – and with a huge advantage over other gravel bikes that I’ve ridden off-road. This was a deep design connection with the X-wing beyond just finishing; however, finishing was a big part of what led me down the Star Wars route initially. I don’t see space or the future as the sleek, clean utopia being sold by tech companies. Space, much like a film set, requires endless cooperation with large groups of strangers, so if a film set relies on standardized equipment, ubiquitous across sets, then space should too. Where a watch or a car are products to be sold as commodities with a shelf life, the Braun T 1000 World Receiver radio was designed by Dieter Rams as a ubiquitous tool that’s functional indefinitely.

Now imagine that we were efficient enough as a species to only produce the T 1000 World Receiver because it’s the best radio, until a better radio (for example, digital radio) is invented. At that point the radio becomes a tool where there are only two or three radios in circulation; the good one, the old one, and perhaps the obsolete, ancient, but kind of workable one. Then a radio is a tool, rather than a product. The tool gets used every which way, in every scenario, in every environment, and it lasts until accidental damage or mistreatment causes it to fail, and then depending on the severity of the situation, your location, and the cost of the tool, the tool is either repaired or replaced. This is the Star Wars design language: battered and weather-beaten but well-designed, Dieter Rams-esque tools that have been traveling around space for generations, being repaired and patched up as required.

This stacks neatly with Sturdy’s design philosophy of just what’s needed, designed and constructed as well as possible, in house, from titanium. Luke Skywalker has an X-wing; just one that does most of what is required, most of the time, very well. Luke doesn’t need different X-wings for different days or different missions, which grants him freedom to be where he is, without ever worrying about repair or maintenance of multiple crafts, or a hangar to keep the spares in, or anything else that is not with him at any given time. He doesn’t even carry a bag. Everything he needs is just stashed in the X-wing somewhere. It’s robust and reliable, and when it needs to be repaired the X-wing is a known model, utilizing known standards, so either original X-wing parts can be used to replace damaged or worn parts, or third-party functional replacements can be subbed in.

To quote Devo, “Freedom of choice is what you’ve got, freedom from choice is what you want.” With my Cilla, freedom from choice has been the biggest luxury.
Some argue that printed lugs build soulless bikes, designed around efficient shapes for manufacturing and strength, rather than being designed around a customer or following any inherent house style, but with the freedom to do anything, austere essential design is a house style. On that basis, as a critique of the cultural value of the Sturdy house style, this argument confuses the art with the medium, and becomes redundant, like calling a photograph too photographic or a painting too painted.

The Build

Sturdy make the frame, fork, stem, bars, headset, bottom bracket, cranks, chainrings, jockey wheels, brake levers, bar ends, light/computer mount, front mech hanger, seatpost, and a number of other parts in-house, so to an extent freedom from choice was a big part of the Cilla for me. Freedom from optimization, from tweaking and thinking about how I can improve the bike. There were a few decisions to make ahead of the build and a few standout parts in practice. The stem, bars, and seatpost were made according to my bike fit, and I opted for 165 mm cranks because long cranks are for flat earthers. The bike came with a 46t front ring in Sturdy’s signature pattern, which I later changed to a 33t–46t double aero design pair for loaded riding in mountains, with a 40t that Tom sent me on loan that worked as a stopgap until the 33t–46t rings were made. The rings definitely didn’t need to be aero for my bike, but I prefer the aesthetic minimalism they offer.

In terms of non-Sturdy parts, I chose a new SRAM Force electronic groupset with a pair of Zipp 101s which were later laced up to a Schmidt SON front hub and an Onyx Racing rear, wearing Schwalbe G-One R tyres in 45c. The Posedla Joyseat seemed like the most appropriate saddle for the bike, as did the Hope Union Race pedals in silver. The bike integrates a computer/light mount which is fitted with a Wahoo Elemnt Roam V2 and an Olight Baton 3 with a warm white LED.

The Sturdy Cilla, rather than being a review bike on loan, is MY bike, so for the most part, parts were selected as stuff I either wanted to try out or that I knew I already liked. However, the Sturdy components were new to me, and were the beginnings of understanding the Sturdy ride feel, which I have to say is totally unique amongst bikes that I’ve ridden. It makes ride quality impossible to separate from the build and parts, so I’ll begin at the front.

Cilla Gravel Bike

Titanium bikes in general have their own ride quality, in that the frequency response of titanium is different to steel or carbon, and on the whole, titanium is a bit more ductile and elastic than steel, which is why they tend to have slightly larger diameter tubes than steel frames aiming to have the same ride quality. Throw additive-manufactured laser deposition welded parts into the mix, however, and you’ve got the potential for a completely different box of frogs, and that’s where the Sturdy Cilla gets interesting and unique. They fine-tune strength and flex over different parts of the bike in a very selective way.

The stem and bars, for example, feel pretty super stiff to the hoods, and then quite flexy in the drops, and are a relatively heavy part compared to the rest of the bike. The fork is an absolute masterpiece in terms of the ride quality it provides. It somehow both has the feeling of a 1” steerer with a quill stem, significantly flexing and eating all the high-frequency vibrations from the road, but also feels solid and positive and planted, as you’d expect from a modern fork with a tapered steerer. The crankset is another highlight, with a super-narrow Q factor relative to the fact that it clears a 700x50c tire. Part of that is due to the very un-round, fairly long, and entirely additive-manufactured chainstays, which can (because of their construction technique) be far stiffer than a similarly-sized titanium tube.

Cruise Control

The whole bike is stiffer than I had expected, almost racy, and not exceptionally light. The first thing that struck me riding it was how spot-on the bike fit was. It’s a far more aggressive position than I’ve ridden for a very long time, but somehow simultaneously more comfortable and familiar. It hurt my arms and shoulders a little on the first few long rides, but after my body became accustomed to it, it just fit like no bike I’ve ever owned has. Loaded up, the frame flexes more. I’m super happy with the built-in Goldilocks flex, and its conservative weight inspires confidence off-road. Not to think of it as heavy – it’s not heavy – but it’s also not a Specialized Aethos; and I’m glad about that when I’m pushing it to do things that it shouldn’t, riding over baby head rocks, fully loaded down the Atlas mountains.

I can ride a level of technical off-road on the Cilia that I’ve not been able to ride before on a fast gravel bike (except perhaps the Argonaut GR3). Where I prefer the Sturdy over the GR3 has something to do with toughness in my real-world conditions. You don’t shine up an X-wing to go for a Sunday cruise, and so the Cilla isn’t a bike to be babied and cared for like a precious heirloom. It’s a tool that gets thrown in a box with all the other tools, much like a battered and dented brass Leica that functions flawlessly, having stood the test of time, with the scars to prove it. While carbon is soft, and at some point brittle, titanium is super elastic and resilient, which makes it an excellent bike to travel with.

Got X-wing, Will Travel

My X-wing may be the only Sturdy fitted with Santana’s Z couplers, produced by Paragon Machine Works in Oakland, CA. I was keen for a travel bike as a statement of intention, and the Z couplers were the only thing available that worked with the austere Sturdy aesthetic. The couplers are designed around tandems so they are plenty strong and probably have significantly more to them than is required for a bike for a single rider. As such, Tom whittled them down to shave off a few grams on a Colchester Chipmaster lathe which at one time I owned. The first time that I packed it in the S&S soft case to travel with, I was kind of concerned about the chainstays flexing if the case got crushed, but Tom assured me that even if that were the case, they’d probably bend until they touched and then just spring back and be fine, which both appeased and terrified me.

I’ve traveled with it a few times since and found the couplers super useful in fitting the bike into a normal bike box, but without having to disassemble much else aside from removing the wheels. In practice, this probably works best as it has allowed me to travel with a disposable cardboard box which I can stash and replace if it disappears, with plenty of room to package the bike with clothes and other luggage. While I do my best to protect it, having an essentially raw frame means that I’m not worried about scratches and abrasions to a fancy paint and the specific finish that I chose gets better with a few scars as they fit with the overall aesthetic.

Wheels

I have used 3 sets of wheels on this bike and they’ve all surpassed any expectations I ever had of wheels before. Initially, I ran a set of Zipp 101s – super flexy, single-skinned, offroad-centric gravel wheels. The hubs and the build are decent, and what you’d expect for a fairly high-end factory wheelset, but the rims are exceptional and almost peerless in their design among carbon gravel rims. They add a huge level of comfort and stability with the flex inherent in their design, as well as being far more resilient than I’d expected. I’m also a fan of the rims aesthetically for their super low profile and minimal design that makes the tires look very round, and somehow gives a super classic feel to the wheelset.

For me, the Schwalbe G-One R is the Goldilocks gravel tire: fast rolling, not too heavy, not too supple, and robust enough for anything I can reasonably do on a gravel bike. I’ve been through two sets of these tires since I’ve had the bike and they’ve stood up admirably to everything I’ve been able to throw at them, with nothing but a few sidewall cuts to show for it, which I’ve permanently repaired with Dynaplugs and continued to use. Set up tubeless the Zipp 101 rims laced to a SON dynamo and an Onyx rear hub are my dream adventure/gravel wheelset. While I’ve found the Onyx rear to be a bit fiddly, with more need for servicing than many other rear hubs I’ve used, the joy of silent freewheeling and instant engagement more than makes up for it.

No Pressure, Just Joy

Through the questionnaire that accompanied the Smiling Butt Kit that I received from 3D-printed custom saddle manufacturer Posedla, I potentially tuned my Joyseat to be a little harder than I’m used to or would like, but it’s something I got used to quite quickly and was probably a benefit over longer rides. It’s a weird saddle, unlike any I’ve used before, so I ended up tweaking it and changing the position quite a lot.

But when I finally got the position just right, it was super comfortable. Unlike other saddles, there are not really other positions. You don’t move around on it. Once it’s in the right place, you just sit there, which I think has a benefit in terms of bike fit generally, and in turn, makes me feel faster and more connected to the bike. When I’m not on super long rides, I’d perhaps prefer it to be softer, yet I see the benefit in the printed saddle made from a scan of my butt imprint.

SRAM Force AXS

It just works. It works really well in mud, dust, rain, or snow. That’s kind of all I want and all I need – something that’s low maintenance, lightweight, and simply works well every time. I resisted so hard the allure of electronic shifting as a devout Luddite, but in 2019 SRAM sent me the first Force electronic groupset, and I haven’t looked back since. Recently I started sometimes cleaning my drive train because chains and cassettes have become pretty expensive, and the service life of that skinny little chain is kind of incredible.

It’s not the sensual shifting of 10-speed Campagnolo Record, nor is it the smooth and silent running of 7-speed Shimano XT, but for fast and reliable shifting every time without fail, SRAM Force AXS 12-speed is the one I’d choose every time. When performance isn’t critical to me, I run those other groupsets for fun; but if I’m riding at the brink of my capability, or if I think I might get there, or don’t want any mechanicals, Force is SO GOOD.

Also: on an X-wing-themed bike, the idea of the Force not being with me would be concerning at best.

Doing It All Wrong

I’m glad that I rode the Argonaut GR3 before deciding on the geometry for my Sturdy, because I was historically on the “road bike with big tires” end of the spectrum with gravel bikes, and the GR3 showed me that sendy geometry goes much further in inspiring confidence than big rubber. Going forward, it made sense to push that sendyness even further, so despite Tom’s warnings, I went a little too far with the slackness and trail, and ended up with a bike that’s incredible over technical terrain like no gravel bike I’ve ever ridden, but that also tends to understeer on big swoopy descents.

I’ve grown used to it over time because I’ve ridden the bike a lot more than I’ve ridden any other bike for probably over a decade, and now I only really find it problematic when the bike is loaded up with some weight on the front. On balance, I’ve grown to love it for being so long. Over long distances the long wheelbase and slack geometry make for a very comfortable ride over mixed terrain. Not as fast and agile as a road bike, but confidence-inspiring and extra fun on the technical offroad bits that I’m inherently terrible at.

In Conclusion

My Cilla might not be the fastest or most performance-oriented bike out there, but in some tacit way, it’s both the most my bike, and the nicest to use. It’s the tool that distracts from the joy of cycling the least. The bike that’s least in my way, and therefore the most direct route to the joy of cycling.

It’s the most utilitarian bike I can use for almost all kinds of cycling. My Cilla is to me as the X-wing is to Luke Skywalker, or the Millennium Falcon is to Han Solo. I don’t even like Star Wars THAT much. The Sturdy is excellent in its own right.

Pros

• The best bike to live with. We’ve had our hiccups, but my Cilla feels like my bike life partner.
• Gets out of the way so I can just enjoy riding.
• Ordering a Sturdy is like getting a suit tailor-made by a vending machine or a German, there’s zero subtext and very little ego. I felt like I was trolling Tom with the X-wing thing but he didn’t even flinch.
• Sturdy makes everything – pick your geometry and then you’re kind of done, the other stuff feels consumable or ephemeral.
• Resilient (Sturdy)
• Lifetime warranty (seems like an unreasonable expectation, but I’ll take it!)

Cons

• Initially, I had some issues with the headset, which were resolved quickly with design iterations, but were pretty frustrating at the time. The redesigned parts now work perfectly despite riding the bike like I’m trying to break it.
• I had too much input into the geometry (I am the con, not Sturdy).

See more on the Cilla at Sturdy Cycles.