If I were a real cycling journalist I’d probably be choosing a “Bike Of The Year” right now, which would probably be the Rivendell Roadini:
Not only is it versatile and comfortable, but it’s also one of (if not the) last remaining normal non-custom road bike still in production anywhere on Earth.
But who the hell wants a bike like that in 2025? Where’s the downtube storage compartment? Can you even put a suspension fork on there? And how the hell are you supposed to stop it without disc brakes?!?
So let’s choose a Bike Of The Year better suited to the modern consumer from among the many new models I’ve featured in 2025 despite never having ridden them or even seen them in person.
Here goes:
This bold new gravel bicycle fills me with pride, for at a time when antisemitism is once again rearing its hideous head in Western culture, the Ari Shafer stands tall and wears its heritage resolutely on its sleeve.
Oh wait, no it doesn’t:
So “Ari” is short for “Fezzari,” and Shafer is a trail in Utah?
That’s the most goyishe thing I’ve ever heard! Screw them, I take it all back. Though it does have “rider-centric geometry,” and it’s about time, too, because I bought a bike with pet-centric geometry recently and it was a total waste because my cat won’t even ride it.
In 2025 there seemed to be no middle ground between plastic-and-electronic technical wonders and self-consciously retro boutique offerings. Enter Surly, a company that long ago ditched the utilitarian for the soporific. Not only did they find that middle ground, but they also built a Comfort Inn on it, put a Do Not Disturb sign on every door handle, and rocked us all gently to sleep.
Seriously, this thing is deeply and profoundly boring. If Skechers Hands Free Slip-ins™ were a bike, the new Straggler would be it. The only thing even mildly provocative about it is the aesthetically unappealing hot-dog-in-a-hallway fork/headtube junction:
But even that is boring, since the purpose isn’t to offend you, it’s merely because* they couldn’t be bothered to please you.
*(And for suspension fork compatibility, making this perhaps the only bicycle in the world that would look better with a suspension fork…with the possible exception of the Trek Y-Foil, though I realize it’s highly controversial to suggest a Y-Foil can ever look good.)
Unveiled with much fanfare, and Jesus-carrying, the Grizl is everything the Straggler is not. Except boring. They’re both very, very boring. But the Grizl is a different kind of boring. It’s not khaki pants boring; it’s the boring of someone who’s trying too hard not to be boring. It’s boring doubling over on itself and giving itself fellatio. It’s boring like the good-looking popular person who gets invited to all the parties and wears all the right clothes and gets lots and lots of text messages and yet has no real personality is boring, and I bet the Grizl cries itself to sleep every night because deep down it knows how truly boring it is, just like the good-looking popular person does.
Aethos 2
Five years ago now, when they introduced the Aethos after years of selling misshapen bicycles, Specialized had the audacity to pretend they invented road bikes with round tubes. Now there’s an “Aethos 2,” and it’s “impossibly responsive, supple, and sublime.” This raises an important question:
HOW THE HELL CAN SOMETHING BE “IMPOSSIBLY RESPONSIVE?”
Wouldn’t “impossibly responsive” mean it is unable to respond? There’s another word for that, you know:
It’s the epitome of the impossibility of response.
The bike companies have trained the media well, and when Trek unveiled the CheckOUT you needed waders to make your way through all the drool. Of course, even though you can’t ever hope to say its full name ten times fast, the Check TrekOUT is truly a remarkable bicycle, because it is easily the most store-bought thing on two wheels ever. From the strategically edgy paint job to the Travis Bickle-inspired sliding downtube-mounted drawer tracks to the rear rack that comes crooked straight from the factory, the Trek CheckOUT is like spending $1,490 $745 for a pair of patched jeans:
By the way, that’s a great deal on those jeans! So I bought two. I actually saved money!
Hideous in every way, it’s the bicycle we deserve, and I don’t mean that in a good way.
Between the Factor One and the Ethos 2, the bike industry seems determined to insult you at every turn.
Therefore, I’m hereby giving the award to the Kent Dirt Runner:
All it needs is a pair of Rene Herse tires.