Standert Triebwerk Mach3
Thoughtfully produced steel with racing pretensions
Remember the turn of the millennium? It was a time when all our computers were predicted to break, but didn’t; it was a time when people asked instead of reached out; and it was a time when Professor Brian Cox’s D:ream band’s promise seemed genuine – things were only getting better. Except they weren’t. Not for high-end steel bikes.
By 2000, steel was on a massive downer. The last time a steel bike had won the Tour de France was six years prior, a Pinarello allegedly built by Dario Pegoretti and ridden by Miguel Indurain. Aluminium had engulfed the pro peloton and the spectre of carbon fibre loomed on the horizon. Yet here we are in 2018 and I can’t help but feel the last time there were this many steel bikes to choose from there were only three TV channels and ‘internet’ was what trawler men shouted at fish. (Pub trivia: Channel 4 first aired on 2nd November 1982. Its first broadcast was Countdown.)
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never met a bike I didn’t in some way like – it’s a bike, what’s not to like? – and I do enjoy the whip-sharp quality of a stiff carbon frame or the newfangled technology of a springy front end. But where ultimate simplicity is concerned, little comes close to a steel racer, and in that the Standert Triebwerk has it nailed. Yet it remains a tough pitch in a crowded market.
I came across Standert through my colleague Joe, who showed me a picture of a frame with a
‘lucky cat’ graphic on the seat tube, those sagely, paw-wagging types you see on the counter at your local Chinese. I’m shallow. I wanted one.
It turned out the brand hails from Germany and is the brainchild of one-time bike messenger and product designer Max von Senger, who decided to combine his love of bikes with that of design. As such, the Triebwerk is made in Taiwan but to a very particular design from Von Senger and honed over three generations, hence the ‘Mach3’ bit.
The bike that arrived did not disappoint, with my lucky cat between the seatstays, iridescent ‘denim’ blue paint and matt pink Chris King components. It looked like a modern sleeve on which beat a classic heart, all sensible diameter tubes, rim brakes and shallow section wheels.
I’d opted for a slightly smaller size than usual but with a longer stem to achieve the same reach, hoping for an aggressive, nimble bike. A 129mm head tube and 974mm wheelbase would certainly do the trick, I reasoned. And it did.
The first thing I noticed was the bike’s steering. Weaving through the city to get out to country lanes I felt uncharacteristically jittery aboard the Triebwerk, but once I hit fast, twisting roads the bike presented its case convincingly.
The handling became less nervy, more fast, and the bike felt much more stable. I’d posit the increased stability was more down to a shift in weight than anything else, with the more aggressive position when in ‘ride’ not ‘commute’ mode meaning more weight over the front steering axis, thereby helping to make the front end feel more planted. There’s also that phenomenon where for some reason a twitchy bike becomes more stable at speed.
There’s probably some clever explanation concerning steering torque versus velocity tangential to a curve (well, it sounds good), and there’s almost certainly some element of this phenomenon bound up in how much easier it becomes to ride no-handed the faster you go. But at any rate, I was mightily taken by how sharp and precise the Triebwerk became when giving it the beans.
The special one?
As mentioned, this is the third iteration of the Triebwerk. I asked Von Senger what had changed and he explained the main difference was a jump from Columbus Life tubing to a Columbus tubing mix (plus Columbus Futura fork), centred around
I was mightily taken by how sharp and precise the Triebwerk became when giving it the beans
This is, at its heart, a race bike, and therein lies the problem. The Mach3 bowls along more than glides
a T47 bottom bracket (an oversized, threaded standard that supports 30mm crank spindles but does away with the creaks and poor serviceability of press-fits), and clearance for up to 30mm tyres. It also now has electronic cable routing.
Thus, the Triebwerk Mach3 boasts a Columbus HSS 44mm head tube, biovalised Life down tube and Max chainstays, all chosen to stiffen up the business end of the bike. To add comfort and shed weight, skinny Columbus Keirin seatstays and lightweight Spirit top tube and Life seat tube make up the rest of the bike.
Half of that approach seems to have worked a treat, because the Triebwerk had real punch out of the saddle. But as for the weight and compliance? At around 1.6kg for the frame the Triebwerk is average for a steel bike, and while it does roll sweetly enough and has a damping effect on road vibrations, it feels firm to perch on and bigger bumps really conduct through the frame and into the contact points. If you’re looking for that lauded buttery steel feel, you’ll not find it here.
Yet this is, at its heart, a race bike, and therein lies the problem. As punchy as it is, as quick the handling, the Mach3 bowls along more than glides. It took effort to get it up to speed and hold it there, and it lagged pedalling hard out of corners.
I’ve found this in steel bikes before, mainly because steel’s material nature means it will always be runner-up to carbon in the stiffnessto-weight contest. Yet often all’s forgiven, because that ‘steel feel’ compensates for the extra weight and flex. The problem is that steel feel is conspicuous by its absence here. That’s fine so long as its made up for with extra zip, but what zip the frame does possess is stunted by the Triebwerk’s overall weight, a substantial 8.4kg.
When I put this to Von Senger he replied that a lighter Triebwerk could be built (his is 7.3kg, size large), but the point with this build was to spec ‘robust, high-quality components for a price that’s still reasonable’. It’s a fair point, but is there enough here to make a customer choose a Standert over the many other bikes out there, specifically the many other great steel racers being made by myriad independent builders and big brands such as Condor and Cinelli?
The price is a selling point (a frameset including Chris King hardware is €1,600), and I also admire the thought that has gone into the tubing and the quality of the finish. But beyond that, I find it hard to see how this bike stands out from the crowd.