Strida MAS Edition

Leaf back through the A to B archives (on our web site at www.atob.org.uk) and you’ll see that we’ve come back again and again to the Strida. Designed by Royal College of Art graduate (and later lecturer) Mark Sanders, the Strida was produced from 1987-1992 at various sites in the UK, before moving to Portugal from 1993 to 1995, back to Britain in similar Mark 2 guise from 1998 to 2000, then redesigned and relaunched as the Mark 3, initially in the UK, but with manufacturer outsourced to Ming Cycles of Taiwan in 2002.

In China the number 4 is unlucky, so the next Strida was the Mini, with 14-inch wheels to suit the smaller Far Eastern riders who were increasingly the bike’s primary customers. Ming took over the rights to the Strida in 2006 and continued to develop the design, establishing outlets in Korea, Japan and the Netherlands, which isn’t surprising, plus France and the USA, which is. Given the Strida’s British lineage, it’s ironic that they are rare here, and purchases have to be made through the Dutch operation.

The Strida hasn’t sold in Britain in any numbers since Duran Duran were in the charts. Why are sales so weak? Like most folders, the Strida tends to suffer from the ‘Brompton’ effect, being designed and launched at about the same time, and having to fight Brompton for buyers ever since. The Brompton suffered from all the positive and negative attributes that come with small wheels, but it proved capable of doing a great deal more than commuting. It was heavier than the Strida, slower to fold and more expensive, but it could carry bigger loads and go a lot further and faster. To be fair, the Strida was never intended to compete in that area and was designed with a very specific brief: to fill the gap between walking and cycling. This is something it does very well.

Mark 5

The SpeedDrive is the magic MAS ingredient. You change gear by kicking the crank-arm covers.

It’s good to see Strida development continue apace after more than twenty years, and now we have the Mark 5, offered as three models.The basic LT looks much the same as a traditional Strida, but as on all the new bikes, the drum brakes have been replaced by discs front and rear. At 10mph, you won’t be able to take advantage of the improved cooling, but more usefully, they are less likely to bind (a common problem with the drums).

Up from the base model is the SX, which is similar, but with a polished alloy frame, 18-inch alloy wheels and Schwalbe Kojak tyres.The larger wheels and free-running tyres help reduce rolling resistance, and push the gearing up by about 25%, making the bike a lot faster in a flat urban environment, but even more gradient-challenged than the base model anywhere else.

Top dog amongst the Mark 5s is the MAS Edition, MAS being Mark Sanderson’s design company, still involved in a small way.This bike is 16-inch again, but reworked with a Schlumpf Speed Drive in the chain ring to give two gear ratios: direct drive, or a 1:1.65 overdrive.This gives gears of 40 inches and 66 inches, which may not sound very exciting, but two gears are a revolution in Strida terms, the previous bikes being encumbered with a single gear somewhere in the mid-50’s, which was neither low enough to climb modest hills or high enough to crack along on the flat when you had a following wind.

When we tested the Mark 2 in 1998, it cost £335 and weighed 9.8kg. Eight years later, the much improved Mark 3 had dropped to £220, and inched up to 9.9kg.These Mark 3 bikes were much more practical than their predecessors.They looked the same, but changes to the geometry made them far more rideable. In fact, we only really had two criticisms: the bikes were single-speed and the package – although reasonably compact with the new folding handlebars – was rather long.

With the MAS Edition, the gear issue has been cracked. But why has it taken so long? The difficulties involve the Strida’s trademark toothed rubber belt drive and trademark monoblade forks.The belt is oil-free and lasts more or less forever, but it can’t jump on and off pulleys like a derailleur, and you can’t fit a hub gear because of the monoblades.The only practical answer was to put gears inside the chainring, and there’s only really one gear system mounted at that end of the bike; the Swiss-made SpeedDrive.With a SpeedDrive costing much the same as a Strida, the price has long been a bit of a barrier, but the technology (like the bicycle) has now been licensed to the Far East, which has finally made it realistic to bring the two together.

The spec is better elsewhere too. Kenda Kwest 100psi tyres have cut rolling resistance to a commendably low level, and the better tyres allied to the improved Mark 3+ geometry, make the bike feel stable, secure and free-running.The little disc brakes are powerful and progressive, against the puddingy feel of the drums fitted to older bikes. Like all cheap discs, they rub slightly at first, but we managed to get the front wheel spinning freely with some gentle fettling, suggesting that in the longer term, the pads should run clear of the disc.This gentle rubbing is a common problem with disc brakes – not really an issue with a car, but with limited horsepower, it’s something a bicycle can do without.

The riding position is unique.You sit rather behind the pedals, which gives an almost semi-recumbent feel, and this, plus the straight, narrow handlebars, and the frame rising up between your knees, give the impression (not that we’d know) of riding a penny-farthing. Pulling away is easier because of the lower first gear, and after changing gear with a simple click of the heel on the SpeedDrive crank arm, the bike accelerates up to an unprece- dentedly high cruising speed.True, it’s only four minutes faster over ten miles (49 minutes against 53) than its predecessor, but they’re important minutes, bringing the Strida up from A-bike territory into the land of the living. Speed-wise, it’s in the same sort of ballpark as cruisers like the Giant Vida, and the MAS could even outpace a Mezzo D9 if it happened to come across one in original low-geared form. Something we’d love to see.

In MAS trim, the Strida no longer feels out of its depth away from the suburbs, and a ten-mile commute seems quite an attainable ride.We shouldn’t get too carried away, of course.The rubber drive belt, although admirably clean, adds a little friction over the good old steam-era chain, as do the ‘small’ 16-inch, 305mm tyres.These are actually 15-inch in diameter, and although the technology improves all the time, they’re on the small side for serious transport, and not best suited to rough roads, pot-holes or lengthy rides of any kind. Our bike also had a tight spot in its freewheel that rather spoilt downhill coasting, but we’re told these should run-in eventually. So although the realistic range of the Strida has rocketed from the original three miles, it’s still only ten miles or so, unless you’re quite masochistic. But as Mark Sanders would say, that’s plenty of range for a typical commute.

Folding

The Strida can be pushed along on its road wheels, a big advantage where the bike can’t be pushed or ridden.

Folding is much the same as it ever was, and it’s the sort of operation a Neanderthal could master after a few bruised knuckles. The only remotely complex bit is releasing the handlebar clamp. After that, there’s just one frame clip at the bottom-front corner of the frame triangle, and folding the pedals, which sort of splay in half, a pattern we haven’t seen before. The rear rack folds up against the saddle – something we’ve forgotten to do in the photo – but it makes little difference to the package size. Incidentally, we rode the bike with the saddle right back, but we haven’t included this in the folded size.

Once folded, the Strida produces a long thin package of W27cm x H50cm x L112cm. That’s a fraction shorter than the Strida 3, but quite a lot deeper, and a full 4cm wider, presumably because the SpeedDrive has a longer axle. The result is a package of 151 litres, or 5.4cu ft, weighing a reasonable 10.9kg… much of the extra weight presumably being down to the SpeedDrive. Not bad, and from some angles, very compact.

We’ve always treated the Strida’s long, thin package as being a bit inconvenient on a commuter train, but the times they are a-changin’. Bicycle space has become so sought after on peak hour trains that even Bromptons are starting to look a bit chunky. A machine that can be chucked in the overhead racks (the Strida is just about the only folding bike that can do this) may well be set for a come-back. And then there’s the thorny issue of railway companies forcing commuters to carry their bikes from the barrier to the train. True, the Brompton can be pulled along on its little rollers, but the Strida stands on its road wheels, so it can be trundled along on 15- inch tyres, a big advantage where the bike can’t be pushed or ridden.

Conclusion

The MAS is a fun, practical folding bike, provided you don’t want to carry a lot of luggage or go too far. The only real downside is cost. There are a handful of UK agents, or you can buy mail-order from the Netherlands, where the Strida LT sells for 478 Euros (£423 including delivery to the UK), and the MAS for 849 Euros… around £733 delivered. That puts it in the same sort of territory as the basic Bromptons, the Mezzo d9 or the Dahon Mu.These are all excellent commuter machines, but the Strida says something about you that a Brompton, Dahon or Mezzo never will. It’s not a bicycle, it’s a triangle, and a masterpiece of industrial design. Normally you’d have to pay just to look at something like this in a gallery. For less than five hundred quid you can ride it work.