Scott Addict
As chosen by editor Pete Muir
Ask me to name a great allrounder and the first thing that pops into my head is ‘Ian Botham’. The former England cricketer is frequently cited as one of the greatest all-rounders of all time. He could bat, he could bowl, he could field, he could advertise Shredded Wheat, he could captain a team on A Question Of Sport… he was good at a lot of things, but he wasn’t the best at any of them (Bill Beaumont was a much better
A Question Of Sport captain).
This is the problem with the term all-rounder – it comes with a whiff of compromise about it. It’s like being called a jack of all trades, and when it comes to describing a road bike the underlying message would seem to be that if you want an all-rounder you have to swap brilliance in any one area for competency in all of them. But occasionally along comes a bike that really does seem to be able to do it all: a bike with no weaknesses, a master of all trades, a Leonardo di Vinci among racers. And in my case that bike came in the form of the Scott Addict.
New best friend
The first time I test rode a Scott Addict it was an altogether skinnier affair than the aggressive-looking race machine seen here. In truth, I thought I wasn’t going to like it. Scott was not a brand that got my pulse racing – didn’t they make skis? – and the bike snob in me would have been much happier on something from a heritage Italian marque (and I’ll admit here that I think the Colnago C64 over the page is easily the prettiest bike in this roundup – but, hey, it ain’t a beauty contest).
There was nothing remarkable about the way the Addict looked, although its slender, rounded tubes and classic frame shape did make for a very elegant bike. I was also not a big fan of the name, which seemed strangely unappealing – why not just call it the Scott Junkie? It was only when I got on and rode it that the Addict’s many fine qualities rather quickly became apparent.
It climbed like it was being hauled upwards by an invisible rope. Its lightness – slap-bang on the UCI minimum weight limit – was matched by its stiffness, which meant that every pedal stroke elicited forward movement quite out of proportion with the amount of effort going in.
Suddenly I was a mountain goat, floating up gradients with the grace of Federico Bahamontes (in my mind, at least). And on the descents I was Ingemar Stenmark, slaloming through the bends with speed and precision thanks to handling that flattered my mediocre skills. And it was comfortable. Not in a saggy armchair way, but in a way that meant that after a long day in the saddle I didn’t feel like I needed an urgent visit to a chiropractor. I was enjoying my riding so much I didn’t want to get off, and you can’t ask any more of a bike than that.
New and improved
The modern incarnation of the Addict takes all the things I loved from the old version and adds extra goodies. The lightness and stiffness are still there, but now there is added aerodynamic efficiency. Importantly, those deeper, more sculpted tubes haven’t compromised the ride feel, which is always the worry when brands start playing with their CFD software and changing tube profiles in the hunt for a few saved watts.
Also importantly, the addition of internal cable routing and ultra-light (just 12g) seat clamp hasn’t come at the expense of practicality. Scott has made it easy to remove aero covers to perform basic maintenance tasks, thereby saving the blushes of bodgers like myself who can render a bike unrideable at the turn of an Allen key. Add in 28mm tyres as standard for extra grip and comfort, and it really is hard to fault this bike. True, the top-spec model is insanely priced at close to £11,000 (I wouldn’t pay that much for a car) but we’re not rating these bikes on price.
The Scott Addict is just like the friend who is great at everything but still manages to be charming, unassuming and always a pleasure to be with.
Suddenly I was a mountain goat, floating up gradients with the grace of Federico Bahamontes