Im with
@scant on this one......I dislike them because if your going to buy something that expensive i expect it to be able to do the job you bought it for to the highest level.......
They dont......they break.....its just poor poor engineering.....basic principals completly ignored..... yes make it light, yes make it sexy, but it has to WORK!
Frankly anybody can build a light alluminium frame that snaps.....i can do that in the garage today out of scrap greenhouse parts!
If they built them like that and they lasted.....well then they would be worth their salt!
Also, i know there's the argument about them being " race" bikes, but your selling them to the public, not teams who bin them every season.....
Pace springs to mind too.....great inovation, poor execution.....imho. lost cou t of the number of broken pace frames....including the new ones...ive seen.
Emperors new clothes.
Their fragility is definitely a valid reason for not liking them, but I don't think it is the result of poor execution, I think it's a direct result of perfect execution when looking at the intentions of the maker - Super light, super stiff, super responsive race bike, the fragility, just like the lack of comfort is an inevitable by product that comes from achieving all of those aims. These frames aren't susceptible to breaking because of poor workmanship or shoddy welds, but because durability was eschewed in the quest for speed. The fragility and lack of comfort are the price that must be paid for owning a bike that has been uncompromisingly engineered right at the cutting edge, if Klein was guilty of anything it was of pushing the envelope too far, of flying too close to the sun.
I didn't enjoy the Klein the first time I took it out, I noticed the speed and responsiveness and appreciated those things, but the way I'd set it up was wrong, the narrow slick daily commute wheelset that I was so familiar with certainly gave me the ability to make accurate comparisons with my other bikes, and it allowed the bike to showcase it's extraordinary qualities, both the good and the bad, but it didn't do the Klein any favours, I have never found a bike so brutally uncomfortable.
After that I made my biggest mistake yet and put on my favourite wider rims with fast rolling 2.2's, the Klein took on an altogether more friendly persona, it became much more comfortable while retaining most of the characteristics that set it apart, those traits that make it more likely to snap, and something amazing happened, I can't stop riding it. Like most of us here I've been bike mad since I was a kid, I love cycling and do it at every opportunity, I haven't driven to work in more than 3 years and as long as I'm working within cycling range I'll never drive to work again. I've had plenty of bikes that I especially enjoyed riding, the White Spider, the Fat Chance which is still my favourite smile generating machine, but I have never before been compelled to turn my 20 minute commute home into a string of consecutive one and a half hour treks. Well, since I put the Snow cats on the Klein I have taken the longest route home from work every day, despite the heat and despite the nature of my job which can be described as physically laborious. I can't get enough of it.
Now that puts me in a bit of a quandary, I bought the bike because it was in mint condition and relatively cheap, my intention - and I have no qualms admitting this - was to ride it just to experience a Klein, then to carefully box it up and stick it on fleabay for 2-3 times what I paid for it, knowing that someone somewhere would be willing to pay silly money for an almost box fresh example of a 1991 bike.
Well, now it's being ridden hard on a daily basis, one or two tiny chips have already been collected, the shiny smooth teeth on the barely ridden chainrings are becoming scratched, in other words the potential resale value is dropping with each and every pedal stroke. But I don't care, the experience is worth it and I won't care if and when it snaps. In fact I'm having so much fun tearing around the tracks, trails and quiet backstreets that take me the long way home that I can't think of a better way to go should the worst happen, let it fail catastrophically as I fly across the Carlsberg bridge, surely that's a better way to go than by way of a heart attack in my bed.