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Second Time’s a Charm: The Smaller Rivendell Clem Smith Jr 45cm L Style

I just rounded 1,000 miles on the 45cm L in the configuration I took to the fitter without a single adjustment or component change, the longest since I started the Clem saga. For those who remember my long and troubled experience with the 52cm H style, the important thing for me to start with is all of my pains are gone, my wrists are good and my knee is healing and I have no soft tissue issues. I don’t think any of my problems with the 52cm reflect at all on Rivendell, just a series of boneheaded mistakes when I built it that got compounded by it just always being slightly too big for how I wanted to ride it. I think I could’ve fit that frame fine if I was able to live with the full upright more casual pace, but I just couldn’t let go of the urge to ride it harder most of the time. That’s on me, and everything I have to say stems from that.

Wait… A Second Clem?

Yup. Previously I rode a Rivendell Clem Smith Jr “H” in the 52cm size for about 3 years from November 2015 until August 2018. I have a pubic bone height of about 81cm or so, which per every Riv catalog really says the 52cm is the target size for me, I am pushing the very limits of what they’d recommend for the 45cm.

But, in those three years a series of personal mistakes (slipping seatpost, stripped saddle clamp angle adjustor, questionable stem reach choices) combined with some aspects of the frame at that size versus my body and riding style (saddle setback from bottom bracket, minimum handlebar height) combined together slowly over time to give me some persistent and increasingly disruptive physical ailments, including:

  • Tendinitis in my right knee
  • Wrist pain in the back of both wrists
  • Irritated soft tissues through my seat

It got so bad I started having to take time off riding. Weeks, and then later months. When I would ride my other bikes, I wouldn’t have the same issues. I tried a lot of solutions: different saddle heights, different seat posts, different saddles, different stem lengths, different handlebars, different handlebar heights, etc. I eventually just accepted: the bike might just be too big. It was indeed a giant, dwarfing any of my other rides. So, with a heavy heart, I stripped it down and found a new home for the frame.

So, why a second Clem?

“OK,” you say, “I can get feeling a bike is too big. But, the size steps on the Clem are pretty big, why chance sticking with it and not going to something else?”

Well. To start with, we should go back to why I wanted a Clem in the first place. I’d been trying my hand at building touring bikes out of old boom-era steel frames, and over the course of a few years doing that I’d come to embrace things like 650b conversions and fat tires and the Tektro R559 long-reach brakes, friction shifters, quill stems, and the Albastache bar… all of which Riv was the champion of if not the entire reason it was on the market. So, wanting to eventually transfer up to a Riv seemed like a good dream anyway, I’d learned and benefitted a lot from them and I’d come to value them as a company.

Along the way building out those old frames, I’d also come to develop some pain points I wanted to resolve. Poor tire clearance, difficulty fendering, lack of rack boss points, flexy bottom brackets, and those R559s aren’t exactly the most confidence inspiring brake when the pads are at the ends of the arms. Especially in the rain. But at the same time, I never did much gel to drop bars, and I had come to dislike mechanical disc brakes for their squeal and found hydraulic brakes a bit touchy, not to mention hard to source replacement pads for.

So when Riv announced the preorder for the first Clems, what I saw was a new frame that:

  • Was from a company I had come to respect and was already dreaming of a bike from, but at a much more affordable price point
  • That promised all of their usual signatures, like a steel frame with neutral handling and a near fanatical eye for detail
  • That still took rim brakes, not disc
  • But that also took canti or v-brakes not long reach
  • And which was overbuilt to handle mountain biking or touring
  • With all the boss points I could want, and some I probably didn’t even need (like the ones on top of the crown)
  • And with unusually long stays (woohoo, no more barely pinching fenders inbetween the tire and seat tube)
  • Which also had clearance without fenders for full-on mountain bike knobbies
  • And it was purpose made for upright bars instead of drops.

I mean, you have to respect that on paper the Clem was the realization of everything I’d been working towards in a bike. Riv’s messaging never quite settled on how to describe it, but I have always from the start viewed it as a much more urbane, much less ‘extreme’ Rivified expedition touring bike. From the beginning, I wasn’t comparing the Clem to things like Papillionaire or Linus, but to things like the Thorn Nomad, the VSF TX series, the Trek 920, the VO Piolet, the Soma Wolverine, and even the Surly Troll. The Riv wasn’t as ‘extreme’ as any of those, but as far as what abuse it could take, to me, those were its competition. That you could build it up instead like a Papillionaire or a Pashley really proved to me how much more versatile it was as a frame. And it’s still the best example I can think of for bicycles where wheel size is chosen proportional to frame.

I am convinced these are different solutions to the same problem set. These are both expedition touring frames with all-day multi-position bars, strong brakes, and support for full cargo hauling.

So, I mean. Yeah. Of course I was sticking with a frame. Nothing out there did quite everything it did. As far as I know, nothing does still. And thus I bit the bullet, accepted I’d have to change out a substantial amount of the bike (frame, wheels, tires), and ordered a 45cm frame. This time in an L, which, if you’ll humor me, I’ll cover in a bit.

I’ll admit: when I first got that 45cm frame, I was sure I had made a mistake. As the 7cm jump in frame size might suggest, it was notably smaller than the 52cm frame was. It felt so tiny. But, I already had the parts, and I’m no stranger to foolhardy choices, so, I went ahead and built it up.

And you know what? Built up, it does not feel like a small bike. Heck, it was bigger than my hybrid that was my daily commuter for years before the Clem experiment, and which was the first bike I ever emotionally bonded to I loved it so much.

I went back to riding, and I rode more than I had been. I got about 700 miles in though and had to admit, it still wasn’t right. It was a lot better. A lot better, like, immediately. But it still wasn’t quite there.

While I was in cycles of taking time off the Clem to reset, I had gone back to riding my old hybrid. And two things kept making themselves obvious to me: one, after all the time on my larger roadster and the Clems, it was obvious the hybrid was a bit too small for me, and two, I really liked those Velo Orange Crazy Bars. In fact, I had settled on basically that same setup with a flat bar and bar ends inboard of the shifters long before VO even came out with their bar, and every time I was back on them it felt like home in a way neither the Bosco nor Billie bars ever had.

Way back in 2013

“I rode like 5,000 miles on these bars,” I thought on one commute in to work, “and never once did I have any wrist problems.” But, in every other way the smaller Clem was better: more stable, less jittery, smoother, accelerated like it had a motor. So, the next obvious thought was, heck, why keep sticking with Riv bars? Why don’t I try the Crazy Bars I love so much on the frame that was really just the improved-in-every-way version of that old hybrid? I’d tried it the full Riv way, the full Clem experience, for years. Was it really so sacrosanct to try it as a ‘flat bar’ touring hybrid?

Like the switch to the 45 from the 52, there was a quick and immediate improvement. But… yeah. It still wasn’t right. I was by this point so injured and so used to compensating that I no longer trusted my body feedback on what was the right fit. I knew once my saddle height was 68 and I had no pain, but now it was down to 64 and that seemed wrong, but my knee stopped hurting…

I bit a bullet almost as bitter as the cost of switching bikes, and took three whole months off bike commuting. At the end of which I did two more things: I paid for a fitting to have a second set of eyes on my build, and I started getting personal training at my gym to give me a second set of eyes as I broke my compensation forms.

The fitting went mostly well. He didn’t think the bike seemed small at all (and actually had a hard time conceiving how big the 52cm must have been), but watching my pedal stroke by eye he ended up setting me at 70cm (perfectly in line with Riv’s method based on my 81 PBH), and we swapped my 10cm stem out for the longest I could easily get, a 13cm. After that, I committed to riding without adjusting anything for at least a month.

The first two weeks were rough. Like, back when I got back on a bike and started commuting rough. It was hard to go a decent speed with the saddle now back to higher, though my knee didn’t hurt. I had to focus on keeping my wrists straight but I found two solid grips where they wouldn’t hurt either. My trainer had me focus on squats and lunges, and on keeping my knee behind my toes and pushing through my heel. Within a month I was riding more normally. After a couple, my wrists stopped hurting. After five months, my knee pain sometimes wasn’t there at all, and even as I type this is just an echo.

It’s been a thousand miles since my fitting. And I’ve made a lot of mistakes over the past four years, and I am baffled that so many people have still trusted my opinions on the Clem over the past year, after how my time with the 52cm went. But, well, ok. I’m a guy who’s made some mistakes. I’ve tried two Clems in two sizes, with three different saddles and three different tires and four different handlebars. I’ve logged a total 9,540 miles on these bikes. And, I guess these are my thoughts about the current one, and how it compares to me previous ones, and some thoughts about the different bars and the different sizes and the different styles. It seems incomplete to not write them up, so, one last time… here we go.

The Build

  • 45cm Clem Smith Jr “L” in Grilver (originally bought from Riv’s site, because I knew the small Ls sell fast and I wanted this one. It was the last. They called me up and said I had a dealer in my city, would it be OK if they canceled the sale and sold it through him, same price, so he got the sale. You cannot beat Riv’s devotion to the human element, you just can’t. That shop was A1 Cyclery [now The Psychic Derailleur] and Chris was as always lovely to deal with and everyone in this mini story is good people).
  • Velo Orange Crazy Bar
  • Velo Orange 1″ quill to 1 1/8″ threadless adapter
  • Forte 130mm 31.8 threadless stem with 31.8 to 25.4mm clamp shim
  • Rivendell Silver Shifters
  • Velo Orange thumbie adapters
  • Shimano R550 brake levers
  • Velo Orange Grande Cru Mk II ‘frogleg’ cantilevers
  • Brooks B17 Special
  • “Brutal Beast” wheelset (Deore T610 hubs, Rhyno Lite rims, 32 spoke)
  • Schwalbe Marathon Mondial tires (to my mind these are the spiritually correct Clem tires. They wear slowly and last forever, they never flat, and the lug design means they’re as good for climbing grassy hills and gravel as they are for pavement. A+)
  • Sugino XD2 wide/low crankset, 170mm
  • MKS Sylvan NEXT pedals
  • Shimano FD-2303 front derailleur
  • Microshift RD-M85L rear derailleur
  • Rawland Raidoverks Demi-portuer with Acorn medium handlebar bag
  • Tubus Logo Evo rear rack with Rivendell Sackville saddle sack medium
  • SKS B65 fenders with custom mudflaps
  • Abus Amparo 495 frame lock
  • Blackburn Central 650 front light, Cygolight Hotrod rear light, Crane Suzu brass bell, Portland Design Works Lucky Cat (black) bottle cage
  • Spokey-dokes and plastic butterflies and angelfish

The Clem 45 vs the Clem 52

The first question I usually get is how I find the difference between the two sizes, as someone who was on the extreme of the overlap. Broadly, they ride about the same. The 52 is a bit more staid, it does have the longer chainstays by over an inch. The 45 feels more responsive, almost zippy. The 45 accelerates faster, the 52 had a higher top speed (bigger wheels, same gearing). The 45 fits more readily in doors and cars. The 52 felt like a bike you ride in, the 45 is a bike you ride on.

At least at my size. What it really taught me is that the lucky people are the ones in the middle of a Clem’s fit range. Go off the fit for the H style, because they’re more generous with the L because of standover. If you’re in the middle of the size range for the frame in H, you get the advantage of being able to build the same size frame as either a flat bar tourer (like my 45), or as an upright cruiser (like the 52 / typical Riv build). If you’re on one side of the middle, you might get stuck in either the touring style (if the bike is slightly small) or the upright (if it’s slightly large). If you’re in the overlap, then you’ll have to pick which style you want and size up or down accordingly. I tried the Riv way sizing up for three years and it never gelled with me. Sizing down I feel right at home. I always preferred a bike slightly small though, so, I should’ve known better. I just really wanted to keep using the 650b wheelset I already had instead of switching to 26″. Know yourself, and know your preferences. If bikes always feel smallish to you, size up and be happy. if they always feel big, the bigger Clem size will be much bigger, size down and be prepared to get a long and tall stem.

There’s less room on the 45 for a bottle cage, and I had to go to side-entry and a smaller bottle. Not the end of the world, but a consideration. If I was doing long haul touring I’d mount a couple extra cages with hose clamps on my demi-porteur rack. Others might find the smaller primary bottle cage of the L a non-starter for that.

I do appreciate that the smaller frame maxed out gives me more room for my handlebar bag and saddle bag though. I really love the Riv Sackville saddle bag medium as a commuter luggage. Mostly I don’t even need my panniers anymore, the saddle bag hauls enough and the weight distribution is much more ideal. The large amount of exposed seat post means I have ample room for the bag to expand to full height under the saddle, which was more of a problem on the 52.

Still miss those longer chainstays on the 52 though…

The H vs the L

I bought the H originally for the extra rigidity under load, and what I imagined would be more storage space inside the main triangle. I took a gamble on the L the second time because, well, rigidity under load is nice but when you’re hauling giant stuff on the rear rack getting a leg over to mount can be a chore. The L solves that. And also, I didn’t end up storing much in the main triangle. I like the L’s swoopy tube as a carry handle, very useful. And, if I ever have to shoulder it, I like that I can take my bottle cage off and flip the bike upside down to put the curve over my shoulder. As near as I can tell, they don’t show any appreciable difference in stiffness most of the time. Importantly, the L is no more prone to bottom bracket flex.

That seat lug on the L is real pretty. Hard to beat it. The L also looks more genteel, a little softer. I can understand why maybe some people don’t want that, but in city commuting it means slightly more people will stop and yield correctly to me. You look less ‘serious’ on a step through and that can actually be a real advantage. (One I further enhance with spoke beads…)

Both have the same neutral handling. Both feel sturdy as all get out, but have those light rear triangle stays that seem to yield that unusual planing property where they feel spring loaded. Remember to downshift before a stop and either Clem style feels like it’s coiled when you start back up. They neither ride dead, despite how stout the frames are. Sure, they aren’t as whippish as racing steel, but they both ride ‘lighter’ than they are.

Crazy Bar vs Billie/Bosco

The next question I get after those two is always about the bars. VO Crazy Bars on a Riv is… not entirely common. Plus, I’d said so much good about Boscos. So… how do I find the Crazies?

Well, first, let’s check the What Bars overview:

The Bosco and Billie both offer one more ‘upright’ grip vs the Crazy Bar. The Crazy Bar offers about 1.5 grips more forward the Riv bars don’t. So, the Riv bars are more casual, the VO more aggressive. No surprise there. All offer room enough to move hands around, and at least one bar grip and one parallel grip, for changing up wrist angle.

What’s less apparent, and what ended up being important for my wrists, is when you’re in bar grip and when you’re in parallel are also reversed between the VO and the Riv.

Like, on the Billie:

Your upright grip is parallel. You have a 45º grip almost entirely forwards, and then your farthest grip is bar grip. Meanwhile, the Crazy Bar:

Your upright grip is 45º, in the middle you have a bar grip, and the farthest 1.5 grips are parallel. For me, this made the big difference. When I’m accelerating, I can resist my body shifting more naturally on the 45º grips. On the Billie and the Bosco back I had to grip harder to prevent my hands sliding back in the parallel grip. On the VO in the parallel grip, the flat bar provides a natural stop when my hands slide back. In the wide grips, I can make use of the paddle rests on Ergon grips to distribute weight, whereas they were less useful on the Bosco and Billie to the point where I just switched instead to silicone chunky grips. The Riv bars are fine for cruising (by which I mean maintaining speed once already going), and great for climbing. The VO are superior for spirited riding, resting in a headwind, and accelerating under hard effort.

The Riv bars looks better, and for more upright/staid riding they are great and comfortable and offer sufficient hand positions. I spend most of my time commuting in stop and go traffic on a rail trail plagued by constant headwinds, so, the Crazy Bars win for me. This is similar to the bigger/smaller thing. Do you want a Clem because it’s a rugged touring/mountain bike? Consider the VO Crazy Bars, or at least an alt bar in that same family (Jones H, Surly Moloko). Do you want the Clem to be more casual, more upright, more like a classic roadster? Go with the Billies for more zip / lower bars, go with the Boscos for higher bars or better climbing. The Boscos are still champ for climbing. I actually had trouble getting the bars on the 52 low enough to not cock my wrists, and the Billies helped that a lot, so, keep that in mind as you find your own fit.

Closing Thoughts

So. Where did the 52 go wrong for me? I think it was mostly not being able to get my saddle far enough forward, and not being able to get the bars low enough. I have to jack the 45 up a lot, but it lets me do those two things much more easily. It’s worth remembering that Riv’s expanded frame system viewed backwards is more traditional compact sizing. The 52, if you size it like a compact frame, is about the same as a L Piolet, a L Troll, a 565L Nomad Mk II, or a 57cm TX-400. There’s some geo variance, obviously, but mostly the Clem has a lower stack, which makes sense because you can always just use a taller quill. I’ve seen it measure out similarly with bikes sized by other companies as large as 59cm! The 45cm, meanwhile, is a M Piolet, a bit bigger than a S Troll but not quite a M, a 540L Nomad Mk II, or a 50cm TX-400. It is, actually, slightly larger in every dimension than my worker’s M Cannondale Quick hybrid (my saddle is higher, my bars are higher, my bike is longer). I looked it up. His bike has a… 45cm seat tube. If you like the way hybrids fit and generally fit them yourself, sizing a Clem like a compact frame might suit you more. If you always feel cramped, by all means, size up. Just know you may limit yourself on your build options, if your nearer one end of the range than the other.

Me? I got what I actually originally wanted, before I got lost in the woods trying it the Riv way and then feeling dumb because they’re smart dudes and mostly they prefer the bigger way. It’s not for me, and that’s OK. Sized down I still get to benefit from an amazingly strong frame with ample boss mounts, no bottom bracket flex, neutral handling, easy build and maintenance, and I get to support a good company. Basically, I got my rugged but pretty touring bike that’s easy to work on that I always wanted. It ended up built kinda like my hybrid, but, so what? That bike taught me I love biking, and this gets everything right it did and fixes everything it got wrong. It may be the small Clem but it’s actually still bigger than that bike ever was. And if I take my hands off the bars it doesn’t immediately zip into the nearest ditch. Man that hybrid was twitchy.

Anyway. Clems. I still love them. I prefer mine slightly small. You might prefer yours the other way. What’s best is the frame works equally well either way, so long as you can get the adjustments right. Don’t let the way the stock ones are built up fool you. This is an excellent platform for all sorts of adventures. Stop and just read the dimensions on the frame itself and let your mind imagine everything you could build that into with different parts.

Then do it and go ride. Me? I’ve got a solid thousand miles down, and for the first time in over a year I can’t wait to get back on and go tackle more.

The Rivendell Clem Smith Jr: Review from a Commuter

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UPDATE August 30, 2018:

I no longer ride the 52cm frame having admitted it was too big for me. I still ride a Clem, just a 45cm now. Read my ongoing thoughts about the new smaller Clem here. I’ll keep my original reviews up below.

UPDATE August 24, 2018:

After almost three years and 7,800 miles (the most I’ve ever racked up on a single bike, woo!) I have swallowed the bitter pill and admitted to myself that this frame is too large for me. Since I built the Clem I have had constant issues with tendonitis near my knee, issues with saddle pressure and rubbing, wrist pain, and nerve issues in my fingers. I have tried different saddles, different stems, and different handlebars. An eleventh hour change to Billie bars to make the frame ride smaller helped, but did not alleviate my problems. I took a month off bikes at all and then rode my original hybrid a couple weeks to reset and relearn my fit, and the only obvious solution was to admit this frame was too big. Thanks to the ‘expanded frame’ concept the 52cm frame is in most ways really more like a 58cm, which is just too big for my proper saddle height of 63-64cm. Everything below about how much I love this frame still holds true, as evidenced by having more miles on it than any other bike. So, I bought another Clem frame the size down, the 45cm. And while I was at it this time I tried the L step-through style. Thinking of the 45cm as a compact frame instead of an expanded one, it is effectively a 51cm, with a 57.5cm top tube instead of a 61cm. While it looks far too small on paper built up it is considerably closer to what I consider a ‘me-sized’ bike, and my initial rides have me full of hope. I will follow up again once I have more milage on it with thoughts, but for now here’s a picture of my updated build. See below for my older thoughts on what I now consider to be a too-big frame.

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UPDATED AFTER 6000 MILES

Click here to skip to the new additions


 

ORIGINAL REVIEW: THE CLEM AT 2200 MILES

 

I keep meaning to write more reviews of my bikes and never seem to get around to it, but my current daily ride is a new enough (and novel enough, and rare enough…) beast that I thought I should really just suck it up and do it this time so there’s something online. Because the gods know I’d be looking for just such a thing if I was shopping a new bike.

So, here we go. The 7 month, 2200 mile thoughts on Rivendell’s new Clem Smith Jr.

Edit 6-22-2016: now with picture of postures while riding in different Bosco positions

Some context and details first. I’m male, early 30’s. I picked up cycling seriously about 6 years ago to commute, and all my experience is in commuting and vehicular cycling. I have not tried an extensive glut of bikes, so, a lot of this is still a somewhat green opinion. I have turned in about 12,000 miles the past 5 years commuting around, so, it’s not completely without some experience, but I know the Rivendell market tends to have people with significantly more saddle time and I don’t want anyone thinking I’m coming from that level here.

I commute in Indianapolis, a notoriously flat city. There are rare hills, my granny gear doesn’t see much love. There are occasional hills, and I’ve been up a few 5-8% grades, but nothing long. I ride on roads, trails, gravel paths, and occasionally some packed dirt. I haven’t gotten to take it out to the land of single track yet, though I intend to try it on few mile beginner trail I did once with a performance disc hybrid. I have high confidence, but no certainties to report on that yet.

From November through April the Clem was my daily commuter out of habit and choice. In late April my car was totaled, and we do have another one for the household but it is now my ‘official’ default vehicle.

I’m about 5’9”, 178 pounds, PBH is around 80, and I have a 52cm Clem. I bought it as a frameset only because when it was announced it was obviously in line with an ongoing series of project bikes I’d been building to whittle away at my desire for a solid commuter/touring all-rounder bike, and I already had a lot of the parts I wanted to build it with. It’s not dissimilar from the stock builds spiritually, but I’ll take pains to separate thoughts on just the frame from the ride because components can matter so much. I’ll also provide build notes here for honest comparison.

Build

  • Rivendell Clem Smith Jr H 52cm
  • 100cm Specialized Allez quill
  • 58cm Nitto Boscos
  • Dia Compe DC138 hand rests
  • Dia Compe ENE bar end shifters
  • Shimano R550 levers
  • Performance Bike cross levers
  • Paul Touring canti (front) with Tektro fork-mount hanger
  • VO Grand Cru Mk II canti (rear) with standard Tektro saddle clamp hanger
  • VO Grand Cru touring wheels (high flange hubs, Diagonale 650b rims)
  • Compass 650bx48mm Switchback Hill Tires
  • Sugino XD-2 wide-low crankset
  • MKS Sylvan pedals
  • Shimano FD-2303 front mech
  • Microshift RD-M85L rear mech
  • Front and rear Surly Nice Racks
  • Zoom Microset 2 seat post
  • Brooks B17 Aged
  • SKS P55 Longboard Fenders

OK, so. I bought the Clem because I’d spent a few years using old steel bikes as a way to learn more bike upkeep, and my goal was to work towards a more do-anything touring-ready build. My second build of these was a mid-80s low-mid-end Fuji Sagres I converted to 650b and put some Albataches on. It changed how I thought about bikes a lot riding that, and convinced me I like upright bars more than drops.

By no means perfect, but it was a lot of fun. In a couple years maybe I'll try a similar build with a Sam

By no means perfect, but it was a lot of fun. In a couple years maybe I’ll try a similar build with a Sam

It was a great bike, but some issues. Clearance was tight, and that made me want a bike with room for better tires. The stays had started to shrink on road bikes by the time the frame was made, so, my rear rack and panniers were always in the way pedaling. And the frame was built for roads and light racing, not weight, so it had a tendency to flex a lot at the BB and was the only bike I’ve had with a ghost shifting issues under load. So, when Riv announced the Clem, it seemed perfect for my goals. 650b wheels in my size, insane tire clearance even with fenders, more mounting points for racks than seemed healthy, a rougher frame actually meant for weight, and a built-for-upright stance that meshed with my newly discovered love of multi-position upright bars while also promising to fix my occasional palm soreness from having a bit more weight than I wanted on them. And, hey, it was a Rivendell I could afford without the two years of saving I was already discussing with my then-fiancée. It was a long summer waiting for it.

My first build still used the Albstaches. I knew Boscos or Albatrosses were suggested, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to buy the laid-back look of the Boscos, I still wanted something where I could jam if I was feeling it. And the Albatrosses didn’t appeal to me because I know my wrists get fussy if turned the way some of the grips I wanted to have would turn them on those. So, through the winter I rode it with the Albastaches, first on a Technomic 8cm, then later on an 8cm Dirt Drop when I found I was still having problems with reach.

I should interject here that even without studs (I couldn’t afford any when the snow started packing down, so, I kept riding all winter on some Continental Mountain Kings), the Clem was easily the best winter bike I’ve had. The long chainstays and upright posture distribute the weight very evenly and I had very few problems with worrisome fish-tailing or getting jostled along ice ruts like I’ve had on every bike. The low-ish BB for the type made getting a foot down when I did start to slide very easy, and every time I did it was actually enough to jolt the bike immediately back to stability. I could not be happier with the Clem as a winter commuter.

Original Albastache build. Full of hubris, but still a snow crunching machine.

Original Albastache build. Full of hubris, but still a snow crunching machine.

But, I was also never able to get comfortable on it. I tried different stems, different heights, different saddles (my B17 and C17), and in general the first thousand miles I had it I was adjusting something every day. By the end, I had sore bits, a stripped saddle adjustment clamp on the stock Kalloy post, angry knees from having the saddle too close trying to compensate wrongly for the reach, and some seriously sore wrists.

So, loving everything else about the bike to that point–the bump- and chatter-free ride, the ease of installing and swapping components, the stability in the snow, the way it carried weight– I had a long, dark tea-time of the soul and decided I’d trusted Grant Petersen to be smarter than me on the frame, 650b, friction shifting, and many other things. So, I was mostly being petulant not believing him on the Boscos. So, I ordered a set of them and the Shimano brake levers they recommend and rebuilt it with those and the current 10cm quill I had. I knew from experience on my roadster with a similar top tube length I still preferred a short reach, and from the fussing of my wrists that they were picky about bar angle, so, I opted against the bullmoose for those reasons. I saw a post on the RBW Owner’s group from a guy who loved his Boscos and had what seemed like the great idea of adding some Dia Compe knobs to them to the otherwise (to my mind) unusable rise portion could be used similar to the hoods and ramps of a drop bar for relaxed riding. I ordered a set of those too.

Second build, still working on fit and saddle choice/angle

Second build, still working on fit and saddle choice/angle

So, the second 1000 miles of my Clem have seen it be closer in spirit to the intention. And, I have to say, I have a lot of crow to eat. Not only is the Clem now far and away the most comfortable bike I’ve had–completely blowing my formerly stately roadster out of the water–but I’ve also turned in commute times as fast and faster on it than I did on the modded Fuji with the ‘aggressive’ Albastaches. I did, I should note, still have some lingering issues with finger weirdness after 5 miles on it that I spent too long assuming was an angle/reach issue, but which turned out to be related to the skinnier grip in the upright position for just having used Newbaums there. I later added a padding layer of Fi’zik tape scraps from another bike and overwrapped that with more Newbaums to give it a squishy torpedo grip there, and it’s been an absolute comfort dream ever since.

So, that’s the checkered history of this and my life lesson in trusting people smarter than me. Now some thoughts on the bike closer to its intended use.

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The Boscos are the biggest highlight here. The long top tube of the Clem was originally designed to make it easier to dial Boscos in without having to just use the longest stem possible, and that really shows once you get used to them. On any given ride I have three entirely different stances to choose from:

  • Comfortably upright in the main grips. Perfect for when I’m tired, riding with friends, or negotiating stop-and-go traffic.
  • A relaxed psuedo-drop bar lean thanks to the knobs at the bends. Great for long stretches where I’m not in the mood to jam but can still get a good 18mph cruise going.
  • A semi-relaxed/semi-aggressive position on the flat next to the stem. Excellent in headwinds or for shifting my hips to really boogie down.

boscos

Once I got over my (not uncommon) perception bias that the Boscos were going to relegate me to going slower and started learning how to work with them instead of trying to force them to act like I wanted, I found myself just intuitively shifting through all the different grips on the ride as the conditions changed. I found that combined with the Clem’s long top tube, grabbing them right at the bends they became the best bars I’d used for standing on the pedals en danseuse. I found the long back sweep was really great for hills because I could sit up and shift more weight onto the rear wheel, and that thanks to the long stays doing this didn’t unload the front so much it got squirrely. But most importantly, I found that I was turning in times as fast as any other commuter I’d built, including ones that weighed in with my usual commuting accessories at 20 pounds less than the Clem. Heck, as of the time I’m writing this I have turned in my fastest commute in 5 years of doing it full time with the Boscos.

So, if you look at the stock Clems and waffle because when you see those Boscos all you see is a beach cruiser, take it from me: you’re wrong. Give them a chance and learn how to ride with them and not wishing they were something else, and they’re a truly revelatory experience. I’m one of Those People now.

(A note: I had a problem with a clicking sound from my stem clamp once I switched to Boscos. I was using 26mm clamp Technomic with shim originally, and there were thoughts it could be that, suggestions to lightly grease it, admonishments to never grease it, and advice to use a stem with the right clamp. I remembered eventually I did have such a stem buried away and used it, cleaned the surfaces repeatedly to assure no grit and still had clicking. Eventually found the solution buried of course on Sheldon Brown’s website. The aluminum Boscos are sleeved, and the sleeve was what was clicking. Per his advice I used an air compressor to shoot some Loctite into the gap between the sleeve and bar until it wouldn’t take any more in and let it dry overnight. Haven’t had a click since.)

The Ride

A lot of the ride quality I know is down to the excellent Compass tires (which I love a lot, even if they are absolute wusses when it comes to road debris and I ended up putting tire liners in them before a month was out. Fun fact, even with tire liners they’re still the smoothest, fastest, best riding tires I’ve tried. And I haven’t had a flat since. I know, I’m still a heretic despite that…) Trying the best I can to rule the tires out, here’re my thoughts on it I can put down to the frame.

It is the most neutral bike I’ve had. As you might expect from the tube size and intention, it never exactly feels ‘spritely.’ But, conversely, it never feels sluggish either. Between the wheel size and the low gearing of the Sugino XD2, it always just seems exactly as responsive as I put into it. It accelerates so well a coworker I was riding past one day asked my if I had a motor in it after learning it only had 16 gears. It doesn’t ever feel squirrely no matter how I ride it. Out of the saddle in a sprint it responds just as smoothly and predictably as it does doodling around at 10mph with my buddy. It needs to be going a bit faster than my roadster to really stabilize for riding without hands, but now whenever I take the roadster out for a ride I can feel myself struggling against its self-correcting tendencies. Funny how you don’t always notice that until you use something different for a while. The Clem’s steering does, to me, feel just a little over-reactive without some weight on the front–and keep in mind when I say that I mean like a bag, as I always have an extra 3 pounds of rack on it anyway. With a handlebar bag on it though, the steering is perfect and doesn’t get wobbly without hands like other bikes did with front weight for me.

The long chain stays are great. For those not already on the Riv kool-aid, the Clem Smith Jrs feature the longest chain stays possibly ever used on a production bike, long enough Rivendell had to have them custom drawn. My 52cm Clem has 52cm chain stays, in a world where 48cm was long considered touring stuff and any bike your local shop says is for road use is probably closer to 42. Grant has an entire post on why he’s doing long chain stays that’s worth a read, but it’s been something even the dyed-in-the-wool Riv fans have been split over. But I went into them with enthusiasm and I don’t want to go back. They’re great for climbing, as mentioned, and between them and the ability to fit those massive 48mm road tires I barely even feel bumps anymore. I used to be really active about posting when going over bumps, and since the Clem became my full time ride I barely ever get out of the saddle for them. I now spend so much time not posting that sometimes I just have to remind myself to get up for a while and let the blood flow on longer rides. There’s a tight hairpin turn at the bottom of a hill on my commute, and I while I do feel a little slower going through that then I did on standard chain stays, I wouldn’t say it’s enough to make a fuss over. An extra second, tops. The bump-free ride and stability in snow more than make up for any cornering losses from the long stays.

I knew the bottom bracket was still comparatively low, but was still on the high end for a Riv, so I was a little surprised at how often pedal strike was an issue on the Clem. Combined with how far back the Boscos sweep and I’ve really had to improve my fairly lazy cornering technique. Nailing the coordination and getting the inside pedal up and getting my knee out into the turn to miss the bars as they come at me is actually a surprisingly rewarding experience though. It’s got a lot of that same reward hit that nailing a friction shift or posting just at the right time to sit back down with the saddle has.

It handles weight really well. Like I already said, the front seems to do better with a little on it anyway, and I haven’t found an upper end to that. A handlebar bag and two front panniers, carrying a DSLR and a growler and a six pack? Still fine. No good hands-free, but it needs only a light touch to handle basically as it does without the cargo. I’ve built it as a tourer if I ever get the chance to, but mostly I use the racks for carrying random things that come up. The rear rack sees a lot of use hauling 40 pound bags of kitty litter, or big bags of ice for parties. Once I carried one of those small folding end-tables on the front rack to a friend’s house. It’s been a dream through all that. Every day it rolls out it has about 4 pounds on the front via handlebar bag (on the rack with a decaleur, for the super curious), and about 5-6 pounds via the Riv medium Sackville with my commuting tools, lunch, rain gear, lock, etc.

So. Many. Bags.

So. Many. Bags.

 

Heavy Schmeavy

Heavy Schmeavy

And of course, it has the immediate benefits it does on paper. The long front-center means no toe-overlap. The long wheelbase means no heel strike (though I sometimes get it from the saddle bag). The massive clearances fit giant road tires with fenders without learning new swear words (though, the placement of the mount on the rear bridge is odd and doesn’t work well for direct mounting or the standard SKS bracket without bending an L in it, so, that is a valid quibble). My rear rack mounted painlessly, and I was just able to squeeze my Surly rack onto the front despite the mid-fork braze-ons being meant for Riv’s Nitto racks. I have heard that the fork on the large Clem might not work out so well since the spacing is different. The kickstand plate is immensely useful, and just a standard cheapie Greenfield kickstand works really well even with a lot of weight thanks to the long wheelbase. Much better, in fact, than with the Pletscher double, which ended up giving a rather shaky footprint and needing the stay bushings at an odd and not really confidence inspiring angle.

Without bags for rare once

Without bags for rare once

Conclusion? It’s still a young bike. 7 months and 2,200 miles is enough to have an opinion, especially since it’s had a few different builds and been through everything from snow and ice to 40mph head winds to midwest thunderstorms now. Since I stopped fighting what it wanted to be and embraced the Boscos it has become the best all-rounder I’ve owned, and fully capable of good times even if I do feel it more than I do on lighter bikes. My opinion is still maturing, but even before I was actually entirely comfortable on it the Clem still was the bike I’d grab every morning, and now that I am comfortable on it I have to come up with reasons to grab one of my other bikes. It’s wonderful, and I think it’s a dangerous choice on Riv’s part because other than the prettiness of lugs I have a real hard time seeing how their other offerings could function any better as a daily workhorse than this does. I know none of my friends will believe me looking at it that it’s worth $1,500, but I wish they would because I’ve looked at a lot of bikes and there really isn’t anything else out there offering the sheer versatility of use this does… so long as you can embrace the Boscos.

The Good

  • The Boscos. Seriously. Get some Dia Compe knobs, push those beach cruiser thoughts aside, and give’em two weeks. Three, if you have fussy wrists like me. When you get them dialed in right, they’ll change your world.
  • The stability. Weight, no weight, out of pedals, in turns, in snow, whatever. The bike is stable and neutral, ready to do whatever you want without fighting you about it.
  • Massive tire clearance. Use MTB, cruiser tires, or down to 42mm ‘fatties.’ Virtually painless fendering.
  • Mount points and braze-ons rivaled only by a few adventure touring bikes with more aggressive geometry.
  • The smoothest ride this side of a Townie.
  • A Rivendell for a price just more than a Surly, with all the quality and cachet that goes with the Riv reputation.

The “Bad”

  • When built with sensible parts and especially fatter tires, it’s not a ‘light’ bike. On the road you won’t notice, it accelerates like a demon and holds a cruising speed with little grunting. It rides lighter than it is. But, if you regularly have to carry it up stairs, I could see that being a pain. I’d say worth it for the ride, but a legitimate reason to opt against it.
  • The fender mount on the rear bridge baffles me still. I’m not quite sure why it’s at that angle, but it’s easily resolved.
  • At $850 for the frame set or $1,500 complete it’s still a hard sell for any of my friends, even though they all acknowledge I’m out there every day all year and must know my stuff. A lot of people are going to still opt for Surly/VO/All City because they’re ‘similar’ while completely missing just how unique on the market this frame is when it comes to ride, clearance, build flexibility, and mount points.
  • The 29.8mm seat post is fairly limiting. I stripped my Kalloy out, first post I’ve ever done that to. There aren’t a lot of other choices though. And it’s hard to use a shim because of the Riv lug and its point. Be careful adjusting the tilt on the Kalloy, don’t spend a winter adjusting it in anger and not always getting it seated firmly and the bolt too loose like I did.

Final Thought

I know Rivendell originally made its reputation making classic bikes free from the weirdness of the 90s and with beautiful, classic designs and ornate lugs. I missed that time first hand, and have only really learned the extent of it from the Readers and RBW group. But, I think by the time I got into bikes, Rivendell had shifted goals away from that and more towards a simpler idea of just making ‘bikes,’ machines that were versatile, reliable, and didn’t really fall conveniently into any niche. The trend of higher bars morphed into a preference for upright ones. The bikes have gotten longer, and bigger, and tires have gotten fatter. And within that second, newer, more specific vision of Rivendell I think this bike is a near-perfect resolution of goals they’ve been working towards. It’s not what made them famous, but I think it should be what gets people to stop thinking of them as a niche brand for well-heeled retrogrouches. The Clem is pricey compared to some bigger brands just down to the economy of scale Rivendell doesn’t enjoy, but within the scope of making a reliable bike that’ll do everything but race at a price anyone could afford within a year, it’s a knockout. Mine is modified to my own well-heeled retrogrouch tendencies, but except for the bar ends instead of thumbies there is nothing about it now that deviates far from the blueprint the stock build lays out. And if something should ever happen to this one and I need to replace it, I will buy the stock myself next time. Grant Petersen and his staff have given the world something really special here, and I just hope the world realizes that.

Me, I'm so happy I wrote a blog post just so more people would give it a fair shake

Me, I’m so happy I wrote a blog post just so more people would give it a fair shake


UPDATED REVIEW: THE CLEM AT 6000 MILES

This review was originally done under some tumultuous circumstances: I had been having some fit difficulties that were so persistent and against everything I knew from five years of commuting on various bikes that I began to second doubt myself about knowing anything at all. While a good reality check for keeping one humble (and an experience that could fix quite a lot of the problems on various cycling forums if more people lived under the ghost of such uncertainty), it was not so great for actually enjoying my special bike. Even after my success in the original review with the Boscos solving the issues I’d been having with my wrists, a soreness persisted in my right knee and the occasional bit of discomfort through my sit bits. This problem persisted most of another year. There was a lot of fussing with adjustment. I bought a new B17, noting my old one was pretty lopsided and maybe that was the issue. It wasn’t. Eventually, I just thought, I don’t get why I can’t be as comfortable on this Clem as I am on my other upright bike. So, running out of other ideas, I stole the even wider B68 saddle that came on my other upright bike and put it on the Clem.

And all my problems disappeared.

“No, they haven’t, you’re just being hopeful like every other time, and if you declare it again 1) no one will believe you, you’ve cried wolf a lot here and 2) you’ll be really embarrassed and more angry than before. Give it some time to be sure.”

So I did. After several hundred miles, I had made no further adjustments and it still felt good. My knee also started to feel a little better. A medical professional confirmed there was no injury, just some tendonitis that suggested some over-extension of the leg. I was cleared to keep riding and see if it got better in a few months. I did. It did. No discomfort returned. My pedal technique got better as muscles I’d been compensating for got stronger again.

It’s been more than a thousand miles now since I’ve adjusted anything fit-related on this bike, and I finally have that complete symbiosis thing I always strive for on any bike I keep. So, what was happening? Best guess: despite previously working on other bikes, and despite being Rivendell’s go-to suggestion for all their bikes even upright, the B17 just wasn’t wide enough to support both my sit bones when I was in the most upright position. So, if I had the saddle high enough to catch them both, I was over-extending my legs and rocking my hips more than I realized. If I lowered it, the knee pain went away but the too narrow saddle dug in and chafed. The wider B68 solved both, and I can now have the saddle correctly low, and also have everything supported.

All of this is my fault, of course, and no reflection on the Clem or it’s design. I just wanted to get that all out there so you have a full understanding of exactly what I’ve gone through with this bike. That out of the way, let me add a few more thoughts about this bike now that I’ve reached the point where every ride it feels like an extension of my self and not just a machine I am sitting upon.

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One downside to having the seat at the correct place, since I am on the very low end of what my frame size will support saddle-height-wise, is that my beloved saddle bag is no longer as useful since it can’t open up enough unless I take the rear rack off. I actually did that for a while and it was nice, but then I bought a new camera and a bag to carry it and my iPad around everywhere I go, and while it’s a small bag for a messenger it was still too big for the saddle bag anyway. So, I put the rack back on and went back to using the good ol’ Ortliebs for my daily hauling. That’s a fair amount of weight every day at the back of an already long bike, and I have yet to notice it in the handling even once. The Clem continues to be the second most stable bike I own (the Simcoe Roadster still takes the cake there), and is the single most neutral handling ride I have. I’m back to running Sylvans for the pedals (I missed being able to hook my toes for a little extra oomph coming off a stop), and I haven’t had any additional issues with pedal strike as I did in the early days. So, I think my form just adapted around that, I don’t even notice myself doing it anymore.

And while the Compass tires are nice and so many people have good luck with them, my route is apparently full of more detritus than most’s. My poor tires had several gashes and holes in them, and I finally retired them for something a bit more rough and tumble (and with a bit more traction in grass, frankly). My normal commuting tires are now the Schwalbe Mondials, and I have been quite happy with them. All complaints about touring and puncture resistant tires riding ‘like bricks’ is clearly coming from a world where 32mm is still considered fat, because at 60mm my ride with the Mondials is still just a plush as it was with the 58mm Compass, and I haven’t noticed any appreciable time differences commuting as a result. I have noticed that I have gone over 2,200 miles now (the entire length of my original review!) without a single flat, and with zero obvious tread wear. The Clem is a rough-and-tumble do-anything bike, and the Mondials really match that very well.

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As far that whole speed thing. While speed is pretty far from my mind (I prefer utility and comfort), I still cannot report that the Clem is slow. My average commuting speeds record at 13.4-13.7mph (or, on par with the much more performance-minded disc hybrid I originally bought for commuting on the same route). On good days, 14-15mph commute averages are not unheard of. 16-18mph cruising speed is still common, and if I’m feeling ‘spirited’ 18-22mph is enough to hit. I have gotten it up to 29mph on a flat, and that’s limited mostly because that’s when I run out of gearing and I’m still working on the cardio to spin my existing gears to a higher top speed. I still pass more commuters than I get passed by. Let’s end once and for all this strange and persistent notion that upright and heavy bikes are slower.

No, really, please, can we? One thing that happens a lot on this bike is I will get shoaled at stops on the trail where it crosses roads. Everyone believes they’re going to go faster than the guy on the giant touring bike, even people I passed a half mile back and who only caught up because, well, traffic. It’s annoying. And often dangerous, since at least one intersection requires the use of a small median inbetween two stretches of busy three-lane road. Not a good time to be trying to pass someone. So, the Clem is fast, but no one will ever believe you apparently.

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The Clem is still the best climbing bike ever. I’ve tackled some more paved and grassy hills with it, and it still rules. The wide Boscos still make riding out of the saddle the best experience on any bike ever, and is super useful on climbs. I have also got to try going down more descents and it does seem to me the already light front end gets a little more skittish on those when I’m not carrying weight in my front panniers. Could just be me though, Indianapolis is a flat city and I just don’t have a lot of descending experience under my belt.

Speaking of things that I don’t have a lot of experience with, I have one final thing to add to the review that I had been waiting on a chance to do before I wrote this up. I took the Clem on some singletrack.

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This was my second time ever doing proper mountain biking. The first was on this same five mile trail with that previously mentioned disc hybrid. I survived that, so, I figured a bike with actual knobbies was going to be even better. But apparently, riding full rigid on MTB is unheard of to the point of contentious these days. But, since the Clem is rated for MTB, and is clearly descended from the original mountain bikes, I knew this review wouldn’t be complete without some singletrack, even if I am a total newb and totally unqualified to discuss the Clem as a serious mountain bike. So, here goes.

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It was a lot of fun.

.

..

Oh, did you want a longer review? OK then. Well, the first thing is, see that handlebar bag? I left it on to see how it did so if I was ever out riding normally and needed to take an off road route I knew what to expect. Plus, I wanted to bring my camera in case I saw a photo op. What I forgot to do though was take my travel ulock out first. Oops. Man that thing bounced and banged around a lot. Next time, I’ll strap the bag onto the rack and skip the ulock. This time, halfway through I just took it off and wore it as a shoulder bag, which fixed my worries over my camera but forced me to take the back half of things a bit slower since I had some weight that kept shifting on my body.

Like I said, newb.

As for the rest. I did five miles. The North Gate Trail and North Tower Loop in Brown County State Park (I still just use a Cateye computer and no Strava or anything, so, you’ll have to figure out elevation on your own, but for everyone out of state BCSP is in the part of Indiana that actually has hills, so, there was some descending and climbing in the mix). They’re beginner trails, so, no jumps. All the logs on the trail have been cut through for it. Just roots, rocks, a banked turn around a gully, and a hairpin or two. Frankly, as much as I’d ever ride without walking the bike or picking a different route anyway, so, a good test.

I made it through in forty minutes, averaged 7mph, topped out at 17mph. I had to put a foot down 7 times because I either picked a bad line or misjudged how much velocity I needed to mantle over a root on a climb. I didn’t fall over once though, so, I’ll take putting a foot down. I scraped my pedals on roots three times only (since the low bottom bracket is a concern for people who do more serious MTB, I gather). I was getting better at both of these near the end, so, file them under ‘need to get better.’ I did also get the chain stuck between the tire and the chainstay a few times. The last time I learned how to shift and pop it back out without stopping. Probably a curse of such a long chain stretch, but maybe a clutch derailleur could minimize that? I’m not going to do a lot of MTB right now, so, I’m not too worried about it right now, but, is something I’m curious about.

The upright stance and wide bars were lovely. Not just for the climbing (though I could climb a lot faster than a couple guys out there on full-sus), but just for control and steering. I had full confidence in my control of the bike throughout, a very different story from when I did it on a more traditional aggressive stance last. The ESI Chunkies I bought during my wrist issues proved why they were made for MTB originally, offering a good grip, adequate squish, and kept me from fatiguing even when I was white-knucking a bit more.

I never felt like I lacked for braking power, despite running those antiquated ‘cantilever’ brakes which now that cross has finally moved on from seems like they’ll have to be relegated to the dust-bin of history in favor of vbrakes and discs. But, I really enjoyed using the rear brake as a drag brake for bleeding speed and the front one always had enough power for faster and more controlled stops. And I only got a leaf stuck in the brake once.

And, the long chain stays. I mentioned the chain thing. Another concern I saw a lot was getting it through tight turns and hairpins. I’m going to say, I may not have taken them particularly fast, but I also had no issues navigating even the tighter turns on my trails. There was only one time where the rear felt even remotely loose, and that was still a far cry from how it feels when it locks up on ice so I didn’t really think twice about it. What I did wonder is if, with more skill and nerve if I couldn’t use the strength of the front brake and the long wheelbase to purposefully lock the rear wheel a little and drift it through tighter turns. If anyone with real skill wants to try and report back, I’m curious.

In short though, it was a lot of fun. Be more fun if I wasn’t worried about my lock beating my camera up. 10/10, will do again, sad it took me this long to do. The reactions from the dudes who believe you need full-sus to ride a beginner’s trail were really fun. I promise, I’m not badass. I don’t even have especially great handling skills, I would be a liability in a race. But I know how to handle a bike, and I know how to post, and that seemed like enough to get me through without incident? I feel like people overthink this.

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So. My conclusion hasn’t changed. The Clem is the best, most versatile bike I’ve owned. It does everything advertised. It commutes. It could certainly tour. It can do mountain biking. It climbs hills. Now that I have a wide enough saddle, it’s more comfortable than anything else out there. It’s fast enough for all non-sporting needs. It’s cheap for a Riv, but not relatively cheap for a bike, but it is dollar for dollar and ounce for ounce the most versatile and reliable platform I could imagine building on if your goal is just ‘to bike.’ It can be adapted to do so many different things. There’s magic in that frame and the direction it pushes you for the final build. I am also now a sworn believer in Boscos. They’re comfortable, they let me be upright or aggressive, and I have a hard time even wanting to go back to anything else. Try a Clem. Make sure and try it with Boscos. It’ll change you. It did me.


 

CLEM HISTORY

It occurred to me after posting this originally that I make a few claims about the relationship between the frame and the bar that people who haven’t been following the Riv blogs for a while might not get. So, for anyone viewing this from the outside, the Clem Smith Jr is an offshoot of a very long project Rivendell worked on that started off as a long bike prototype that was eventually destined to become their Joe Appaloosa touring bike. The original long bike and the bar that’s now called the Bosco were literally conceived together way back in 2011, with the long top tube being used to add the ability to use stem reach to dial in the fit of the Bosco’s insane backsweep. I still feel, though no idea how Riv feels, that the Clem is in a lot of ways the final form of the original prototype, as it kept the extra long TT and Bosco spec. The final Joe seems a bit more refined after the Clem with a shorter top tube to not lock drops out, and a different upright bar with less sweep. So, the Clem had about a four year gestation period and for people finding this in the future I tried to scrape together some links showing the evolution and theory behind Riv’s first production ‘long bike’ here. I’m sure I’ve missed some. If anyone gets ahold of me with any I missed I’ll add them.

2011

The new ‘BUBar’ bar debuts – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/11440959017/bubar
First Long bike proto – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/13522805152/odd-new-bike-and-misc-stuffs
The proto frame – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/13791776081/odd-new-bike-p2
Proto built, why it has such a long TT – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/13883032079/it-makes-me-feel-like-king-of-all-i-survey
More proto – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/13988654445/bosco-rubbe-contd-last-one-for-a-while

2012

The Bosco starts getting a name – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/16266667183/nothing-but-bitefullsms-alert-thing-at-the-end

2013

The long bike becomes Joe – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/40771104823/video-catalog-february-frame-deadline

2014

Clem explained – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/98196689054/clem-smith-jr-xplanation
Clem proto – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/99627421939/clemshots-and-impressions
The Clem – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/100109991719/mo-clem

2015

Clem preorder, official details and build recs – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/112641497369/prematurely-but-out-of-necessity-introducing-clem
Clems – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/113913313209/clem-clementine-progress-check-it-out, http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/113461257479/the-clem-clementine-samples-are-back-from-paint
Clem facts, brochure – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/116315759199/clem-facts
Why long stays – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/122375524519/if-theyre-not-longer-theyre-wronger-the-they
Clems in the studio – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/129863416824/clem-smith-jr-news-the-plan-was-to-get-the-frames

2016

Clem option changes – http://rivbike.tumblr.com/post/141975601759/last-chance-frame-sizes-cheviot-clem-appa