Imagine a day so beautiful day, even Mother Nature pats herself on the back. You’re navigating a majestic forest path, your one-by drivetrain shifts flawlessly, your 700c wheels roll smoothly across rough surfaces, a gentle breeze runs through your hair… You turn a corner, and notice something out of the ordinary…
A lumberjack, brimming with determination, is chipping away at a great oak, with nothing more than a miniature pocket blade in his hands. A picture, you’re unlikely to behold. But a middle-aged dad, on a folding bicycle, sputtering along the hiking trails with all the grace of a drunken bumblebee? More likely than you might think!
Yes, this is the story of one man’s unlikely journey through the wilderness on two tiny wheels, proving that sometimes a bit of outside-the-box thinking can yield the greatest of stories.
It was year 2020. Amidst the throes of the great toilet paper depression, I found myself pondering on one of life’s misteries – how does one maintain sanity when hand sanitizer is as valuable as gold, hazmat suits are the latest fashion trend, and the collective world is losing marbles faster than a toddler in a marble factory?
“Fight fire with fire!” they say, and so I did, by bikepacking on twenty inch wheels and a bicycle with so many hinges, it could teach a yoga class.
“A folding bicycle? For bikepacking?!” I hear you gasp in disbelief.
Hold onto your cycling shorts, as I’m about to argue that a folding mini-velo isn’t just good – it’s better than promises made by candidates during the election year.
Consider this typical scenario: You’re on a trip with family or friends, you take a glance out the window and gaze upon an enticing trail or a scenic landscape. Flirting with your inner desire to hit it up you’d struggle to pull a Surly Disc Trucker out the glovebox. But a folder? Much like the latex lifesaver in your back pocket – a folding bike can be whipped and readied to roll in a matter of seconds, opening you to opportunities as they present themselves.
Not to mention, the curious looks and questioning glances that follow you wherever you ride. Hikers might wonder if the circus has come to town as they spot the strange sight of a bearded man on a BMX-sized bike. Fellow riders might swerve in disbelief as they meet you on the trail. Townsfolk might watch from their windows with bewildered amusement, thinking that perhaps, you have stolen a child’s toy.
I made the decision. Bikepacking on a folder would be my weapon of choice, used not to promote hate or division, but to bringing smiles to peoples faces (and getting extra centimetres of the waistline).
If I would write a wish letter to Santa, it would go something like this: a folding bike, steel frame, disc brakes, clearance for wide tires, internal geared hub, belt drive, manageable weight. Betting on Santa just wouldn’t work, as I hadn’t been a good boy that year. Buying my own present was the only option. With barely a few grand of disposable income, I might as well have wished for a unicorn on wheels – a mythical creature that probably didn’t exist.
Unbeknownst to me, the exploding bike market was materialising hopes and dreams of people, people like myself, looking for solutions to their non-problems.
I resorted to scrolling, scrolling feeds and search results with hopes to find a folding bike that could handle both the weight of cheap gear, and the rugged terrain of the wilderness. This proved to be a challenge. All folding bikes were designed for city streets and smooth paths. Their narrow tires and flimsy frames would buckle under the weight of camping gear and trail mix, which, let’s be honest, is more candy than trail mix.
Rain hammered a drum solo on my window sill, hope was slipping through my fingers like sand in an hourglass. My heart raced, as I stumbled upon Bike Friday, a US company that designs and builds miniature bikes. Bikes that both fold like origami and carry loads like pack mules. Alas, the price quoted for a fully specced frame sent me back down to Earth, crashing harder than a rookie mountain biker on a black diamond trail.
Night thickened, rain poured harder, a thought crossed my head…
“Perhaps this is a stupid idea?”
I took a deep breath and persisted, descending into the bottomless pit that is reddit.com
A few comments caught my eye…
“it’s a vello” – one comment read
“Is this a misspelling of the French word Vélo?” – someone asked
“No, it’s the name of an folding bike company”
It was the exact moment I discovered VELLO, an upstart Austrian bike manufacturer…
Martin Shreder 
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