Now THAT Was a Bike: 1996 Klein Mantra Pro
Most of PB's “vintage” bike articles are odes to a model that was so remarkable, so innovative and so absolutely brilliant that it deserves a rousing eulogy. This isn’t that kind of article. Behold the Klein Mantra: the scariest bike to ever roll on dirt.
Birthed in 1996, the Mantra was one of the hottest, most lusted-after models of its time. But let me tell you, from first hand experience, the Mantra was, and still is, a bike to be feared. Should you run across a Mantra (and there are still plenty of them floating about), whatever you do, DO NOT attempt to ride one down any kind of hill. Not if you cherish your collarbones. Consider this a public service announcement with a backstory.
Klein's Adroit was arguably, one of the best performing XC bikes of its time. Note the "supple" riding rigid fork.
It Started Out So Well...
Let’s start at the start, with the bike’s designer, Gary Klein. There might not be a nicer person on earth than Gary Klein. Sincere, soft-spoken and undeniably brilliant, Gary Klein earned a degree in engineering from MIT and was, arguably, the guy responsible for pioneering fat, aluminum tubes on bicycles back in the `70s (you could make the same argument for Charlie Cunningham, but it’s a close call either way). My point here is that when it came to crafting bikes, Gary Klein was no fool. He made ultra-light, wickedly fast aluminum road bikes and by the mid-80s, was cranking out very cool mountain bikes as well.
When mountain biking truly boomed in the mid-90s, Klein hardtails were the hottest things on the trail. Tinker Juarez rode one. There was always a Klein hanging in Jerry Seinfeld’s apartment. And if you wanted the raddest bike on the planet, you picked one of his hand-built, piece-of-art frames on which to hang all those ultra-expensive, very purple and often poorly-executed CNC’d parts. Klein mountain bikes, in short, were the shit.
...Then Came the Mantra
By 1995, however, the tide was turning. Hardtails such as the famed Klein Adroit were still king, but full-suspension bikes were undeniably on the rise….which is kind of remarkable, because if you look at those early crops of full-suspension bikes, there were buck-toothed, sway-backed, web-toed, flipper-limbed abominations as far as the eye can see.
Most early full-suspension rigs were heavy, crudely-executed diving boards full of so much ugly that just looking at them could kill your inner unicorn. And yet…there were plenty riders and engineers (usually the ones who’d cut their teeth riding moto) who could see the potential in suspension. If, they argued, we could just create bikes with more travel, while also making them lighter, more efficient and stiffer…if we could do all these opposing, seemingly mutually exclusive things, we could have truly great bikes. There were also plenty of people who looked at all those Ifs and said, “Screw it. I’ll just go ride my ultra-light, ultra-reliable hardtail, thanks anyways.”
By 1995, however, the tide was turning. Hardtails such as the famed Klein Adroit were still king, but full-suspension bikes were undeniably on the rise….which is kind of remarkable, because if you look at those early crops of full-suspension bikes, there were buck-toothed, sway-backed, web-toed, flipper-limbed abominations as far as the eye can see.
Most early full-suspension rigs were heavy, crudely-executed diving boards full of so much ugly that just looking at them could kill your inner unicorn. And yet…there were plenty riders and engineers (usually the ones who’d cut their teeth riding moto) who could see the potential in suspension. If, they argued, we could just create bikes with more travel, while also making them lighter, more efficient and stiffer…if we could do all these opposing, seemingly mutually exclusive things, we could have truly great bikes. There were also plenty of people who looked at all those Ifs and said, “Screw it. I’ll just go ride my ultra-light, ultra-reliable hardtail, thanks anyways.”
Want to get somewhere tall and lofty? The Mantra was your pony. Want to descend back down that trail? That's where it gets complicated.
And then Klein dropped the Mantra like some kind of candy-coated bomb. Let’s consider the facts: The bike doled out (on paper, at least) a then-astounding 5.3 inches (135 millimeters) of rear suspension, yet weighed about 24 pounds when decked out in XTR. In other words, it weighed less than most XC hardtails yet somehow boasted as much rear travel as a freeride bike. Ticket price for that first top-shelf Klein Mantra Pro? $4,000.
Klein mountain bikes were famous for both their wicked-sharp handling and their ability to scoot up a fireroad; this was clearly what Gary Klein was aiming for with the Mantra as well. Short (16.38-inch/416-millimeter) chainstays were mated to a belly-dragging, 11.7-inch (297-millimeter) bottom bracket height. Did I mention the 41.21-inch (1046-millimeter) wheelbase? It was sporty as all hell.
The Unified Theory
By now, you’ve probably also noticed that the Mantra was a member of the URT (Unified Rear Triangle) tribe. In other words, the bottom bracket was fixed to the swingarm. The idea here was that you could stop the bike from bobbing around on climbs by simply making the suspension “lock out” the moment you got out of the saddle and started mashing the pedals. Your weight essentially countered the swingarm’s ability to compress the shock. It worked in the sense that the bike did, in fact, climb like a hardtail when you were out of the saddle.
Early designers were vexed with the question of how to make suspension bikes feel like they didn't have any rear suspension. One novel solution? Fix the bottom bracket to the rear swing arm! Voila - instant crap.
The URT design also lacked the many pivots that tended to poop the bed on more complicated designs. It was also durable and relatively stiff. And, last but not least, the Mantra Pro made so many other full-suspension bike out there look like they were cobbled together by well-meaning, developmentally-delayed toddlers who’d somehow been handed TIG welders and piles of scrap aluminum.
Gaze now at the marvel that was the Mantra Pro—it had a “Torque Control Bream fuselage", for chrissakes! Torque Control Beam? That’s some Star Trek shit right there. The Klein looked about a thousand times “radder” than everything else on the market and one can never underestimate the massive selling power of perceived rad-ness. Could you get other full-suspension bikes in a “Blastberry Chameleon” fade paint job? Not a chance.
Gaze now at the marvel that was the Mantra Pro—it had a “Torque Control Bream fuselage", for chrissakes! Torque Control Beam? That’s some Star Trek shit right there. The Klein looked about a thousand times “radder” than everything else on the market and one can never underestimate the massive selling power of perceived rad-ness. Could you get other full-suspension bikes in a “Blastberry Chameleon” fade paint job? Not a chance.
Hell, Klein even cooked up their own dual elasto-cellular shock. Whuh? See that thing in the photo at the top of the page that looks like a nuclear missile silo aimed at your nethers? Yeah, that thing—that’s the Klein Suspension Cylinder. They made it themselves and it housed “Two parallel Elastocell springs and a Fluid Logic Damper that provide more cushion and less bounce than other conventional bike shocks.” A whole lot of people read that bit of marketing gloop, frowned in confusion…and immediately slapped down their Visa cards to get themselves some of that.
Say what you will about the Mantra today, but back in 1996 when production units rolled out, this was a bike that looked like it was designed by the very hand of God or Ganesh or Thor or whoever happens to be your deity of choice. All signs indicated instantly awesome times out on the trail. You’d ride the Mantra. You’d shame the lesser mountain biking hordes and you’d head back to town for a microbrew and a trip to the tattoo parlor to get inked up with a totally unique Kokopelli or tribal-design arm band. You’d bro out with your bros. You would become the Undisputed King of Dirt.
Huzzah! Right?
Descent Into Hell
Not exactly. The Mantra rode a whole lot better on paper than it did on dirt. True, it scaled climbs like a mofo. It even boasted good traction when you hunkered down on the seat and muscled your way up hills. It was way ahead of the competition on that score.
But on descents? Oh, dear Lord…. It was as if the bike had been dreamed up, designed and built on top of desecrated Indian burial grounds. The Mantra was possessed of an unholy grudge against anyone brave or dumb enough to climb aboard. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not suggesting the Mantra Pro was a “bad” bike on the downhills. I’m telling you it was an evil bike. There’s a difference.
For starters, there was the whole URT thing. The problem with a bike that “locks” its suspension when you ride out of the saddle is that you ride out of the saddle whenever you are going downhill. In other words, when you wanted the rear suspension to act like a rear suspension, it was off taking a lunch break somewhere while you were getting your teeth rattled out of your head. It was a shit idea.
One place where the Klein Mantra truly excelled? In Klein catalogs.
But that’s not the bad part. Not only did the Mantra sport a fiendish auto-firming rear suspension, the bike also had a tendency to simply buck you off the front of it. Hit the front brake at high speeds and the front end (with its whopping three inches/75 millimeters of travel) would dive, the swing arm would hinge forwards, completely extending the rear shock, which radically reduced the wheelbase and created the steepest possible head angle at the absolute worst possible moment... It was hard to fully appreciate all of this, of course, because you were now busy flying over the handlebars. There was no shortage of f*ckery afoot.
I’ve lost count of the number of outstanding riders—guys who raced downhill at the semi-pro and professional level—who were unceremoniously flung from the stink-bugging bike. It was as if every Mantra bitterly resented being ridden and was merely biding its time before it drew first blood. The first time I piloted a Mantra, I was floored by how well it ate those uphill miles. It was 1998, The Mantra was an undeniably gorgeous bike. Moreover, the rear tire felt as if it was glued to the fireroad climb.
I’ve lost count of the number of outstanding riders—guys who raced downhill at the semi-pro and professional level—who were unceremoniously flung from the stink-bugging bike. It was as if every Mantra bitterly resented being ridden and was merely biding its time before it drew first blood. The first time I piloted a Mantra, I was floored by how well it ate those uphill miles. It was 1998, The Mantra was an undeniably gorgeous bike. Moreover, the rear tire felt as if it was glued to the fireroad climb.
Then we dropped down this trail we called Cheating Death. Cheating Death plummeted straight down the side of Sullivan Canyon and it was so steep that our V-brakes would heat the rims to blistering temperatures and we'd occasionally blow out the sidewalls on our tires. It was a treacherous, heart-in-your-throat kind of descent. And I’d cleaned it every time I rode it. On hardtails. On that first descent aboard the Mantra, however, I was bucked off the bike no less than three times before I got halfway down. My co-workers were grinning evilly as they waited for me. Getting tricked into riding the Mantra was a kind of rite of passage at the magazine—a hazing ritual akin to waking up and finding that one of your "friends" has Super Glued your hand to your crotch.
In the years that followed, I did my best to steer clear of every Mantra that crossed my path, but the bike would rear its brutish head at damn near every Trek press camp (Trek owned Klein). During those press launches each editor would try his best to avoid his turn on the thing, clambering atop any dreadful Gary Fisher Level Betty or Trek Y-Bike in sight. As in any game of Russian Roulette, however, there comes a point when you find yourself pointing the barrel of a gun at your temple, knowing full well that there's a bullet in the chamber with your name on it. At times like that, you just prayed you wouldn’t break a body part that couldn’t be mended.
These were the dark days for Trek, when they were an absolute powerhouse in road cycling, but were developing plenty of dirt models that were woefully behind the eight ball. Oh, sure, the Mantra was updated over its six-year lifespan. It’s not as if Klein and its parent company weren’t trying to make it a better bike.
That MCU-spring was quickly replaced with various coil and air-sprung shocks. Less expensive options floated out, as did sexier carbon versions, and in an array of dazzling paintjobs, because no one, to this day, offers bikes with better finishes than those old Kleins. But, it was all just so much lipstick on a pig. The basic, bucking bronco design never changed.
That MCU-spring was quickly replaced with various coil and air-sprung shocks. Less expensive options floated out, as did sexier carbon versions, and in an array of dazzling paintjobs, because no one, to this day, offers bikes with better finishes than those old Kleins. But, it was all just so much lipstick on a pig. The basic, bucking bronco design never changed.
You could make the Mantra Pro out of carbon, but you couldn't actually make it a good bike.
Klein retired the Mantra after the 2001 season, replacing it with the Adept; an ultra-light, Klein-flavored version of Gary Fisher’s Sugar design. The Adept had less travel than its predecessor, but didn’t hate the mountain bikers piloting it, so it was a monumental improvement. Soon after, Klein offered the Palomino—a Klein-badged version of the Maverick ML-7. Klein made those early Mavericks, so it was an easy transition. For a few years, the Palomino did an admirable job of what the Mantra was supposed to do—climb like a scalded goat-monkey and descend with respectable grace.
But, it was all for naught. Trek pulled Klein from American and European bike shops in 2007. Like Spinal Tap, Klein remained big in Japan for a couple years and then it was all over. I have no real evidence here, but I can’t help but think the Mantra (and the inevitable second-classing of the cross-country hardtail) put a nail in the coffin of that company. It’s not as if you could ever say that Klein produced slip-shod bikes. Every model with that name printed on the top tube was still a well-executed bike. The Mantra proved, however, that a well-executed nightmare of a design is still a nightmare.
A Mantra circa 1998, note the Fox ALPS shock, first-year RockShox SID fork and the undeniably great, 8-speed XTR drivetrain. The Mantra was top-shelf stuff. Terrifying, but top-shelf.
Of course, there are riders out there who will disagree with me to this day—collector types who cherish the five or six Mantras hanging in their attic showrooms. I still see the occasional Mantra flying up a trail and then being ridden gingerly down the other side. People call them “nimble”. They argue that it takes “an experienced and skilled rider” to handle the descents on a Mantra. To each his or her own, I guess. There are, after all, also plenty of people who like to swallow flaming swords or juggle chainsaws before retiring to bed each night. Like the Klein Mantra, these things are an acquired taste. My advice to you, however, is this: Don’t ride one down a hill. And if you do, be real careful when you squeeze those brake levers. I’ve ridden plenty of bikes that I haven't liked in my nearly two decades of testing bikes for a living. There’s only one, however, that continues to terrify me—you’re looking at it right here.
MENTIONS: @vernonfelton
Author Info:
Must Read This Week
Klein Bikes
Founded: 1985
Ceased operations: 2009
Parent organization: Trek Bicycle Corporation
Klein Bikes becomes Trek ? May you explain for me guys.
The brand was fined for large sums of money,and I guess that it's from that finantial difficulties that enters the Trek dela.
Can someone confirm?
I was always a vocal critic of this design back the day. Any version of the URT is like putting the footpegs on the swingarm of a motorcycle. It is unbelievable that many at the time thought it was the holy grail of suspension design. I believe Scott Nicol of IBIS was guilty of this delusion.
Just read your article, it's come out too late for me. I am literally taking delivery of a Mantra Carbon 2000 today. Always thought it was a cool design with unbelievable pain job. Always wanted one and thought it would be fun to have. Currently I ride a trek stumpjumper.
Am I really taking my life in my own hands on a trail ride with some short down hills that are not of expert difficulty?
PS - Don't use the brakes going downhill!
PPS - It still looks fantastic!
I remember being impressed.
- I wonder if Scot remembers that. We all said something about it being a cool move to the guy on the Slingshot.
That's the only time I've ever seen a Slingshot on the trails.
nanaimo.craigslist.ca/bop/5609885100.html
$1600! With the stem raiser I'm assuming.
But yes, for some reason, Klein Mantra sellers always demand an extra luxury tax.
I went through the trouble of sending this awesome pinkbike link to the sellers of the bike. Lol
www.pinkbike.com/buysell/1967234
or
www.pinkbike.com/photo/12595357
#26 ain't dead.
& he rode his chameleon green/purple Klein hardtail to work every day. it sat next to his desk, & it blew my mind. This was probably one of the first things I'd ever seen in my life that was truly expensive, something that had no compromises whatsoever. & then he brought in those videos Klein used to send out to promote new bikes, my god, the idea that someone would send out a VHS to anyone who owned your product, & the way they made these bikes look, it was amazing.
& I've spent the last 22-23 years being obsessed with bikes since. Thanks Mr. Reed, for the equivalent of a coke habit.
I really miss Klein though. I'd love to have an old school hardtail(with matching rigid fork, of course) hanging on my wall, & I really miss when they'd get really nuts, like glow in the dark bones on Tinker's 24 hr racing signature frame.
This piece had me rolling. I never had the opportunity to ride one of these. What's funny is when I first started getting to MTBing, this bike mesmerized me. I remember thinking that this was the pinnacle of bike engineering. My 10 year old self ripping pictures of Kleins out of magazines and posting them on my closet and lockers doors. The LBS was a Trek dealer and had a couple of these on display, and I loved just looking at them (along with the Redline BMX's I could never afford). I really had built it up in my mind as one of the kings of mountain bikes.
It's funny to read this piece with that background. It's akin to when I learned Bill Cosby was rapey. Total nostalgia boner kill (or NBK as the kids are calling it). Goes to show you the power of marketing and advertising on young minds. Maybe I will just buy one to fulfill a now empty childhood dream
#mywholelifeisalie /s
BTW: I've been following you since I started watching the Bible of Bikes and am pretty stoked you're with PB. Do you guys intend to do something similar? The Sutras of Shredders.The Talmud of Two-Wheelers. The Vedas of Velocipedes. I grant permission to use any of those names for the price a signed Pinbike t-shirt.
I am sure if I look in my storage I will find the MBA issue praising the Mantra or the Trek Y series, which I treat my self as well, many many years ago.
I fairly understand and accept how marketing works together with the advertisement and usually the publications "respect" the companies they pay them their salaries. There was a big joke behind the URT design that was never told "on time".
I am just wondering how often this is happening today?
However, even then I knew enough to question how all that travel was supposed to work when you were standing on the pedals, out of the saddle (i.e. descending, landing any kind of drop or jump, blasting down rooty chutes). And yes, he did break a collarbone on that thing. Remember the original, URT Rocky Mountain Pipeline? Same question, but perhaps more forgiving geometry.
Still, Klein did produce staggeringly beautiful paint jobs and welds.
Thanks for the laugh.
"1997 Klein Mantra, Large frame - all aluminum front boom and rear triangle. Pivots in good shape. Front and rear shocks in decent shape. Bike has some era-appropriate upgrades. Clip pedals. Great trail bike.
I recently had surgery on both shoulders, have to sell.
Mantra WINS!!!
@vernonfelton
@RichardCunningham
@ZapataEspinoza
A. Powers
See 'Flex stem', or better yet the 'Shit bike' from BIKE magazine.
I was doing Triathlons back in the day and alot of folks were riding those Softride bikes... Hmmm
Except for that what they wrote about my Marble Peak FS..."delivered a slight play in the main pivot during our test" or so...that's what one calls industry friendly. Mine fell apart after the first ride
The reason is this: you will never get an insane bike like this ever again. The industry/consumer will never allow it. It wasn't a horrible bike per se, it was super fun to pilot on anything but down, and it is genuinely a work of art beyond any engineering credentials it may have possessed.
If they were to resurrect the platform with progressive geometry, a Fox 36 fork and minimal rear travel, I'd buy it. Just imagine a slack bike that got even slacker everytime you hit a bump. Crazy idea but it might be fun.
I’ll never forget the day the owner or manager, not sure, his name was Mike, let me take the Top Gun down the block to the candy store. I was probably 12! I was ‘king of the world’ for a half hour!
Btw, I appreciate all your bike (and related) reviews! Think I’ve read most of them going back a few years. I’ve had two Stumpy Evo Expert 26”s due in part to your guys’ glowing reviews back in 2012. and the recent Enduro 29 video on the Bible of Bike test really helped me on my recent purchase when I was stumped on the 650 or 29 version. When you’re dropping many thousands of dollars on a ‘toy’ and still have diapers to buy great no-b.s. reviews are invaluable. Thanks.
I never rode one of these bucking broncos that way, but wonder if any of you PB folks ever did. If so, was it better?
I think it's worth mentioning that the URT design originated from the brilliant engineer John Castellano. He should be a household name (within the MTB community) just like Dave Weagle. Unfortunately the prevailing suspension design goal back in that era was to create as much pedaling lock out as possible. When Castellano approached Trek/Klein with his "Sweet Spot" suspension design, they insisted on raising the pivot point to create maximum stiffening when riding out of the saddle. It was nice idea, but this article perfectly explains the ruinous effect on the original design.
Ultimately, the Sweet Spot URT design ended up with a terrible reputation, and John Castellano was brushed off as a hack designer. I would wager that Trek ruined his career in the bike industry by creating an abomination of his original design. I bet he laments the day he chose to conform to their requirements in exchange for food on his table...
Interestingly, if you look at Castellano's preferred interpretation of the URT design, you will see that it has just a bit of increased spring rate out of the saddle, is simple, durable, active with no pedal feedback, and could be run with triple chainrings (or single, or double, or single speed) with no compromise. It pretty much achieves what complicated linkages like VPP does but In a far simpler, more reliable package. It's a shame the URT was ruined by bad timing and poor management of the design intent. It's also a bummer that a great designer had his career cut short. But who knows, maybe the URT will be re-discovered a few generations from now and hailed as a brilliant "new" design?
I just want to speak with them about the dinosaurs they are pedaling... Ha, it's all good..
I can tell you from following him down a steep fire road.... they stink-bug quite easily... scary indeed.
can you imagine how good he would be if he werent on a death machine though?
he slaps a what must have been a 30lbs hub on the counter, then slaps another hub that seemed just as heavy and they both were about 15 inches in diameter
"with these" he says, very seriously
these hubs were an early addition of a motorized wheelset he was trying to sell to the US Army. the front hub was the motor, the rear hub was the battery and he wanted them laced to a standard issue rim (straight lace mind you).
I'm like.... err ahh, I don't have spokes that short..
Seeming almost insulted, the guy says... "ahhh, why not, I need these built today".
in my mind, I'm thinking ---- "I don't have a custom spoke cutter you idiot" but I politely tell him that the spokes required to make such a unique wheel not only are a lot shorter than even the shortest spokes I had, I couldn't just wup them up in a jiffy like that AND I couldn't even guarantee they'd even be strong enough for the job.
THEN!!!! the hot shot pulls a $100 bill out of his wallet and says something like ---- "will this change your mind?".
By this point, I'm 85% sure the guy might be a electrical genius while at the same time, actually a complete idiot when it came to street smarts and basic logic.
I really didn't have a way to lace the wheels up that day without a spoke cutting machine but, he didn't seem to care and he simply couldn't understand why it wasn't something I could just wup up on such short notice. He left in a huff and I never saw him again.
years later, I ran into one of his hench men ... I asked how that wheel project turned out and if they were ever able to pitch it to the US Army. the guy told me the company folded--- go figure
why on earth would the US Army want such a thing anyway? the whole bike must have hit the scale at 100lbs
Early full Sussers sucked balls
Still have the bike although it's now a beautiful dark green after I broke it on a drop. Klein covered it and even sent me a color palet to pick a color I wanted, great service!!
Hell I'd buy one now in a 29'r, add a nice fork and dropper.
The day when my mate got his RST 381 DH fork, and the rest of us were like kids in a sweet shop - oooh, dual crown, massive plush 3.5 inches of elastomer travel, lets go huck down some stairs! Those were the days!
it was great fun to ride very fast bike the only scary part was a very steep steering angle. which was used on some other XC models of the day too.
if you compare it to other dual suspension XC bike of this years there was hardly any that was as light high quality and that actually preform as good or better on top of this reliability was an issue too with most brave companies that dared making high-end full suspension XC bikes.
I respect Gary Klein and his designs. All his designs. we ware in a different place without his creativity and inversions in alloy manipulations, large steering bearings, top of the dreams paint jobs, internal cable rooting, unique back drop outs and derailleur hanger and the list is long.
I think a bike design should be tested to the values of its era.
please give us more of this vintage tests / writ ups.
Two things that killed this bike besides Trek, is putting the seat way too high and as in 1999 when all the entry level mantras came with a shock with almost no rebound control so that the seat would jump up hard and fast. All those problems are easily avoided these days.
www.pinkbike.com/photo/16743914
On another note, I ride Sullivan twice a week. No idea where cheating death is?
The entrance to Squirrel Cage is on the right side off the paved section of Sullivan Ridge Road tucked in behind a telephone pole.
My friend has cracked Android in his basement and every time I pick up that frame I'm truly astonished by the design, quality of welding and paint job.
I really miss Kleins' HT frames. There just beautiful pice of design and workmanship.
" no shortage of f*ckery afoot" i spit my dinner on the table laughing. They sure did exactly as you described and i have experienced that very otb to face on these, and the trek Y bike....good memories from the public beta test team!
Cannondale's motion for summary judgment curiously advanced only section 102, and not section 103, as the basis for invalidating Klein's claims. The issue of obviousness was not briefed by the parties and no evidence related to obviousness, such as commercial success, long-felt need, and copying was presented. Yet the district court, sua sponte, invalidated the claims at issue under section 103. Cf. Celotex Corp. v. Catrett, 477 U.S. 317, 326 (1986) (stating that "district courts ... may enter summary judgments sua sponte, so long as the losing party [is] on notice ... to come forward with all [of its] evidence"). The district court's failure to consider evidence of secondary considerations is reversible error. See Ashland Oil, Inc. v. Delta Resins & Refractories, Inc., 776 F.2d 281, 306, 227 USPQ 657, 675 (Fed. Cir. 1985), cert. denied, 475 U.S. 1017 (1986).
CONCLUSION
After carefully reviewing both parties' section 102 arguments, the district court's invalidation of claims 1 and 7 is affirmed. That portion of the judgment invalidating claim 2 is vacated."
You can read the Appeals Court decision at law.justia.com/cases/federal/appellate-courts/F2/884/1399/464210 The discussion of section 102 versus section 103 makes it sound like the appeals court believed the district court made a really uninformed error in judgement as well as the overlooking the tubing strength issues.
I rode some Cannondales in the early 90's when looking to buy a new road bike and they were a bit scary. I remember thinking the down tube reminded me of the thickness of beer cans. It didn't strike me as reassuring that the frame warranties were for a limited time (I remember 5 years, but may be wrong.) Now, for new bikes, their limited warranty for frames other than some aggressive mountain bikes (and some other specifics) is for the lifetime of the original owner, except you will see this: "Every bicycle has a useful product lifespan. This limited warranty is not meant to suggest or imply that the frame or components can never be broken or will last forever. This limited warranty covers manufacturing defects that occur within the normal lifespan and use of the product." And this: "Damage resulting from normal wear and tear, including the results of fatigue, is not covered. It is the owner's responsibility to regularly inspect and properly maintain his/her bicycle."
Fatigue? How do I inspect a frame for fatigue? I decided to step away from flyweight aluminum and bought a steel-framed road bike. Saving a pound or two or even three on the frame isn't worth the worry of a catastrophic failure for this curmudgeon. Reduces the incentive to eat smarter and lose some weight.
In the late 80's a coworker tried to sell me his aluminum Vitus (model 979?) - loaned it to me for a couple weeks, and I commuted on it. Extremely flexible. I recall that its tubes were relatively close to steel-tube sized. I found this description on the website of a seller of a vintage Vitus: "It is not the best frame for sprinting but extremely comfortable and forgiving."
When the district court found for Cannondale, I don't think they could understand how the design, the relative and absolute strengths and stiffness of the various tubes working together to propel the rider, was different from any aluminum bike. My experience is that many attorneys think they are experts at everything, even if they are working for you and not bluffing as your opponent. I imagine most attorneys who become judges maintain their illusions. Perhaps Klein wasn't entitled to collect from Cannondale because they weren't violating the specifics of his design. Or perhaps there may have been an unannounced settlement after the appeals decision, or Cannondale altered their design enough to skirt infringement.
Klein's innovation was real and of significant value. I do know that; I did buy a used Mantra in the late 90's after riding a lot of full-suspension bikes and the Mantra was by miles the best climber. You spend more time climbing on a mountain bike than descending (unless you are riding up a chairlift with it) and I don't need to feel like I am on a carnival ride to enjoy a descent. Perhaps I am old enough to know that injuries are no fun, and remember the secondary meaning of that mantra of the 70's: Speed kills.
Similar to: st2.static.bikestats.pl/15/b14415-u16055_orig.jpg?1591804250
Really, it was a crappy performing bike.
Truth.
I just wish someone, anyone, would do paint jobs on production bikes that are as cool and varied as Klien used to.
Favourite colour, storm rising! What's yours?
I expect your work will be published someday.
Wonder if it comes with a free coffin?
Cracking article, made me giggle a wee bit!!!
Funny thing is dropper post are all the rage.
isn't that so you can remain seated all the time when riding?
I bet if you remain seated and just ride xc its probably a fun ride.
I have ridden the Ibis zasbo. Another Urt bike from the same era.
Its not quite the hellish ride you make it out to be.
Even back then i realized five inches or rear travel and three up front is a very bad idea.
Dirt bikes of the same era had more travel up front.
Unfortunately such a fork did not exist u ntill many years later.
I still see and admire old Klein bikes being ridden around.
Generally getting a second life as a commuter bike.
Beautiful paint jobs and top notch welds.
Where is Protour?