Racing Steel - Ritchey Outback

As my soon-to-be wife, Louisa, likes to remind me from time to time: “You are quite reluctant to try new tech, but when you finally do, it’s suddenly the greatest thing ever.” There is a lot of truth in this statement, which really does pain me to admit…

We both love to ride our bikes. I have been mountain biking, bike touring, taking part in Audax, and playing with track bikes my whole life—especially over the past decade—never once thinking I would be racing anyone other than myself (and maybe the local S-Works wankers on the lanes).

Louisa, on the other hand, is a little newer to the sport than I am, and as such, isn’t bogged down with the burden of tradition or the attitude of ‘Well… I’ve always done it this way, so I’ll keep on keeping on.’ She is quick to adopt new tech, so it’s impossible for it not to fall under my sceptical eye.

Steel frames and deep wheels are a killer contradiction

The usual process of events is as follows: after poo-poohing it for a little while, I finally take a closer look, quickly realise that a lot of advancements have taken place that really are awesome, keep this realisation to myself, and—after a little while—maybe, just maybe, I’ll make use of it myself while making out I was on board with it all along.

Thru axles, hydraulic brakes, 1x drivetrains, tubeless, and saddles made from materials other than leather—the list goes on. But there are two things I simply cannot let go of: threaded bottom brackets and steel frames.

(I was going to use the broader term ‘metal frames’, but aluminium just reminds me of some truly awful mountain bikes from my youth, and I have no experience with titanium, so steel it is.)

Let’s address the elephant in the room: the weight. Steel frames are heavier than carbon fibre—there you go. Yes, steel is a heavier material, but there is a whole lot more to this puzzle than just shaving off grams and being super light. I tend to take a more holistic approach.

I need a bike that can go the distance with minimal mechanical issues, one that is robust, comfortable, and capable of performing on both roads and mountain trails without fear of it (or myself) falling apart. I also have to consider that I’m quite an aggressive rider with a history of being somewhat accident-prone…

Only last year, I crashed into a tractor in Belgium while recceing the course of a race I was set to take part in 24 hours later. That came back to bite me the next day when I was aching midway through. Then, earlier this year, I misjudged a corner, crashed through a fence, flipped over a bridge, and ultimately ended up in a stream. (One of my finest crashes, I must say.)

It’s moments like these when I remind myself that if I’d been riding a carbon bike, it would have likely been written off—resulting in no race at all and a huge financial loss to replace the frame.

Mountain gravel is my absolute favourite place to be

Now that we have a little context regarding my history and my needs, how did I end up with a Ritchey Outback with deep-section wheels and fast rubber?

Well, the short answer is: it’s what I already had.

The longer answer is that I was forward-thinking enough when I bought this frameset in 2023. From the start, I saw it as a platform to build upon, improve, and adapt as needed.

The frame itself is incredibly comfortable and perfect for longer rides, where offsetting fatigue is just as important as outright speed. The longer wheelbase ensures stability when I need it, yet somehow, the frame still retains agility. I’m sticking with tried-and-true tech, such as mechanical shifting in a 1x11 setup.

My preferred riding style is low cadence, high torque, so for now, I’m not tempted by the 12-speed bandwagon—at least not until I wear this drivetrain to dust.

Another nod to reliability comes in the form of a Chris King bottom bracket, a DT Swiss wheelset with tool-less hubs, and comfort provided by a Ritchey WCS finishing kit throughout and a Brooks C15 saddle with steel rails. I mention this last component because I’ve seen a few carbon-railed saddles fail within minutes of a race or event start. This could be down to user error, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, the Brooks is extremely comfortable for me, so that extra little bit of weight is a non-issue.

Ritchey, as a company, is not a massive corporation selling millions of frames year on year, so riding and supporting a “smaller” brand is something I find very appealing. In the same spirit of supporting smaller companies within the bike industry, I bought the frame and had the wheels built through my local shop, The Woods Cyclery. I’ve been a customer of theirs since 2017 and have been an advocate for them ever since. Supporting local businesses plays a big role in my decision-making when building any bike, and riding steel is one of the best ways I can do this.

The Ritchey wearing bigger rubber and in 'adventure mode'

The bike I’ve built is designed with versatility in mind, as it will be my vehicle for the ultimate goal of all this: adventure.

Starting in April, Louisa and I are taking five months out for a road trip spanning the Scottish Highlands to the forests of Slovenia, taking part in UCI gravel events across the continent along the way. We’ll be exploring what eleven countries have to offer on two wheels, documenting our journey, publishing routes, and sharing photos in the hope of inspiring others to embark on their own adventures—large or small.

Watch this space in the coming weeks and months as we make our way south with tales of the highs and lows from the road.