Every year at the start of the bike season (around springtime), manufacturers put out the theme for the year’s merchandising push.

This year it seems to be: 29ers are here to stay. So get yours now!

(There’s a subtext as well, which is: Get ready for the 650b Revolution! 650b being the tire size splitting the difference between the standard 26er and the 29er.)

We at BikeIntelligencer have puzzled over all the hot talk re 29ers since it first stirred the pot back in the day. We in fact had the pleasure of riding with a WTB (Wilderness Trail Bikes) 29er pioneer a decade ago on Sunday morning rides with Keith Denebeim’s Tam Valley Bike Club.

Over the years we’ve seen a number of friends, colleagues and riders we respect get 29ers for their main steed. And here’s the bottom line: Nearly all have gone back to 26ers.

The exceptions have been folks falling into 3 categories:

1. They are sponsored riders paid in part to promote bikes that happen to be 29ers.

2. Their favorite rides are tailor made for ‘niners.

3. They are tall.

The other folks — the ones who bought 29ers with their own hard-earned cash just to see what the buzz was all about — have just about to a rider abandoned or shelved the big wheels.

When we ask them why, we get a surprising variety of answers. But they all militate toward a common theme, which is: Lack of versatility. 29ers are great bikes for certain specific purposes, which can include racing but mostly involve classic cross-country (XC) singletrack.

The problem is, most riders don’t ride just XC. Most riders in fact do a lot more with trail riding (aggressive-trail, freeriding, or downhill), where things like maneuverability, quickness and handling are paramount. It may seem like a joke to point it out, but so far 29ers haven’t made it big in slope style, 4-cross, enduro or downhill competitions. They aren’t even the bike of choice in World Cup XC events, although some riders have done well on them.

We go up to Whistler every summer and have yet to see much evidence of a 29er boom there. Out on the trails in NorCal this summer-like winter, we have noticed an uptick in 29ers. But they’re hardly a threat to displace conventional mountain bikes.

We stopped and chatted with the owner of a spanking new 29er on the climb up Mount Tam a month ago. Why had he gotten a ‘niner? “Curiosity.” What did he think so far. “It’s…OK.” It was hardly a ringing endorsement, although he did say he’d not had enough ride time to adequately evaluate it.

Another facet of the ‘niner buzz that frustrates us is the broad generalizing about the bikes with little quantitative basis. Commentary after promo commentary hints that the bigger tires make riding over obstacles easier, forward momentum stronger and ride stability greater. While those may be observationally true, we have yet to see any scientific substantiation.

In that vein, we were intrigued to see the 29er versus 26er shootout in the most recent (No. 23) issue of Mountain Flyer magazine by racer Michael McCalla, who compared similarly set up bikes over a variety of terrains for time and power output (wattage).

McCalla’s startling conclusion: No quantifiable difference between the two. Interestingly, McCalla experienced the same feedback that 29er evangelists promote regarding ride feel. But none of it translated into any actual ride advantage.

McCalla’s findings may have surprised us, but they mirror our own reaction to 29ers. We’ve ridden fully rigid, hardtail and full suspension versions of 29ers and always had the same response. They feel great for the first hour or so. Then they feel OK. Not long after, their idiosyncrasies start to make us hanker for our familiar mount.

We do think that 29ers are great for taller riders (6’2″ and above). A big powerful guy like Dejay Birtch thrives on a Niner, and not just because the Niner brand sponsors him. We can see why the (tall) maestro, Gary Fisher, was so stoked at the idea in the first place.

And for specific terrain — flowy, not-too twisty or technical singletrack — 29ers are a hoot for just about anybody. But are you gonna do drops or hucks and jumps on a 29er? Is a 29er suited for your favorite downhill? And what about having to buy spare 29er everythings, like wheels and tires and tubes? Ka-ching!

We’re firmly in the camp of “to each his (or her) own.” Just because we don’t ride 29ers doesn’t mean we hate them.

But when someone starts talking 29er Jesus to us, we have to smile and shake our heads. They’re just wasting their time.

A friend of ours, citing the Church of Big Hoops, put it well in a modified Christian hymn. Feel free to sing along!

Hoop of ages, spin for me
For a slightly higher fee.
Though the weight is kinda high
And the roll out burns the thigh.

29ers rule the day
Just get in the line and pay!

Chris Lane in former tight quarters

Old Mouse, New Bike, Year 2002

Anyway, here’s the guided preview from owner and chief guru Chris Lane. Opening day should be a hoot, so make plans to check it out! More on the shop Web site.

This year they got new bikes.

Now a new bike for Christmas is everyone’s dream. If you’re a kid, it’s the best gift you can get. If you’re an adult, it brings back fond memories of childhood freedom and exuberance.

Ikea's gift bike. Tampa Bay Online photo.

Unfortunately, the Ikea bikes do not live up to the dream. We wonder if they’re even safe to ride.

Although it’s difficult to do detailed analysis from the photo, these bikes appear to be put together with the proverbial chewing gum and baling wire. The parts are outmoded and cheap. The wheels are undoubtedly flimsy and soft. The cranks look to be stolen from Wal-mart specials.

We’re most concerned about the integrity of the frame. It looks to be a suspension frame modified to a hardtail — a recipe for disaster. Notice the interrupted seat tube. On a typical hardtail there’s no reason to cut away the seat tube, and the design of this frame indicates it was initially planned to provide for a shock and pivot setup.

We can’t see the welds, but the seat stays seem too long and thin to offer the stability and strength that they would on a normal hardtail frame.

Without getting our hands on one and showing it to, say, a Gary Fisher or Joe Breeze, we can’t say definitively that the Ikea gift bike is a landfill magnet. And we don’t want to spoil the Christmases of Ikea employees by dissing their rides.

But if it were our choice, we’d definitely take the $50 instead.

Titus bikes once were like a gift from heaven.

As we noted earlier, Titus had abruptly closed its doors after running out of money after a long descent into poor management, layoffs and lack of tech and marketing focus.

What remains of Titus will probably be picked over by Planet X for tech, patents and miscellaneous inventory.

We’re sorry to see Titus go but will always cherish our titanium HCR hardtail. A little steel wool to that baby and it looks brand new every time.

More from Bike Radar.

From today’s Seattle Times:

A year ago Rodney Watkins, a garbage hauler with CleanScapes, pulled his truck into the North Transfer Station in Seattle and saw one of those very pricey Cannondale bicycles with all its expensive components ready to be dropped into the garbage pit.

Why should perfectly good bikes become trash, Watkins wondered. And then he remembered a movie his children had watched, “Robots,” where the chief robot’s mantra was “See a need, fill a need.”

That’s how CleanScapes started a program to recycle bicycles in conjunction with Seattle’s Bike Works, which takes on used bikes for repair classes, rehab and resale and otherwise getting them back into the transportation matrix.

This works on so many fronts: Landfills have less metal to process, kids learn how to fix bikes, a bike that otherwise would have been destroyed goes on to ride again. It’s the ultimate win-win-win.

More from The Times.

One of Titus’ most stalwart dealers, Roaring Mouse Cycles in San Francisco, heard about the liquidation via press release like the rest of us. A couple of other Titus shops contacted by Bike Intelligencer had not even been notified.

Our Titus HCR the day we bought it.

Foremost was forcing out Titus’ founder, Chris Cocalis, in 2006. Cocalis landed on his feet of course, founding Pivot Cycles. But his acumen, contacts and reputation were never something that Titus could replace. It’s impossible to say how many core and potential Titus customers Cocalis took with him, but a review of the MTBR.com forums revealed considerable name loyalty.

Post-Cocalis, Titus was left mainly to ride out its brand name without coming up with true innovation or a feel for where markets were headed. It dropped the SwitchBlade, its best-known (and most popular) bike ever, and was slow to adapt to the freeride revolution. The El Guapo had potential but took a couple of tries to get right. The same was true of Titus’ 29er full-suspension model, the Rockstar.

RIP Switchblade. Photo courtesy GalbraithMt.com.

“They tried to cover too many bases without really shining at any one thing,” noted a Seattle dealer, Adam Schaeffer of Downhill Zone. The road market never really latched onto Titus, and its focus stayed on too-light cross-country and racing bikes long after those markets were usurped by aggressive trail and freeride bikes, Schaeffer added.

Dealers said they will continue to support Titus as long as they can get parts. Sean Ramirez at Roaring Mouse said the hope is Titus will get purchased and supported by another company, but that may be wishful thinking in a down economy.

We have a Titus we purchased from Roaring Mouse nearly a decade ago but count ourselves lucky: It’s a titanium hardtail, built Cocalis-tough, and not likely to need attention. Owners of full-suspension models may face increasingly uphill battles getting replacement parts, and God help the Titus owner who breaks a rear triangle or tube butting.

More from Jimmy Mac at Mountain Bike Action.

Rodale continued to offer Mountain Bike at the ludicrous and unsustainable rate of six issues a year — included with a subscription to Bicycling — but the publishing giant’s heart was obviously never in it. It always seemed like a weak cousin to Bicycling, which we’ve never cared much for either.

Rodale purchased the mag in 1987 and supported it well in its heyday during the 1990s. Mountain Bike had some great writers, including Zap (Zapata Espinoza) and Captain Dondo. Another favorite was Dan Koeppel and his long-running “Hug the Bunny” column.

Dondo moved on, Zap was fired, “Hug the Bunny” disappeared and Mountain Bike became simply a way to sucker mtb addicts like ourselves into subscribing to the lamentably bland Bicycling magazine.

Which means that Rodale’s pledge to “fold the contents” of Mountain Bike into Bicycling is pretty much empty talk, similarly aimed at snagging mtbers into staying with Bicycling.

We doubt the ploy will work, particularly since we doubt its sincerity in the first place. Lesson No. 1 of publishing is that you can’t get rid of the good writers and expect readers to hang around just for the ads.

Instead our suspicion is that Rodale has folded Mountain Bike simply because the magazine business is on its last legs. Our inbox just recorded an email from Rodale offering Bicycling at $5 a year for 11 issues. That smacks of desperation to us.

Mountain Bike lasted a quarter of a century and took us through the sport’s salad days with literary acumen and grace. Its Rodale incarnation, albeit anemic and lackluster compared with its predecessor, will nonetheless be missed.

Further info from Bicycle Retailer.

The idea is that anyone could scan a suspected stolen bike (or confirmed stolen for that matter) and upload the info to a common database (BikeRevolution.org) which can then be accessed by the victim. Anway, worth checking out.

Noble Bikes, based in West Seattle, is the brainchild of Mark Landsaat, an engineer and frame designer who used to work for suspension pioneer Proflex and moved to Seattle from Amsterdam in 2001 to join K2 after the former purchased Proflex.

In 2005 he started Ardiano Design, a consulting business focused on suspension and carbon-fiber frame design. Still an active racer in the expert category (he raced elite for Proflex/K2), Landsaat decided to build the bike he’d like to see on the market.

In 2008 he founded Noble, naming his new venture after the popular Noble Knob epic ride near Mount Rainier. To celebrate his new frame’s debut, Mark rode Corral Pass-Noble Knob-Ranger Creek with a group of friends this past weekend.

The new frame, the F4, retails for $1,495 and is on display at Downhill Zone in the University District. It features an arresting blue paint job and remarkable detail work, especially on the rockers and pivots. The just-under 6-lb. (actual weight) frame is intended to ride very stiff as you’d expect from a racer, and touts custom hardware that lends a distinctive look and sense of craftsmanship to the F4, as well as (in the case of the shock) unique performance capabilities.

Noble is also working on a 5-inch trail bike and has longer-travel in mind as well, although Mark stops short of saying it will go head-to-head with the other Seattle-based boutique mountain bike maker, downhill specialist Evil Bikes.

“They’re evil, we’re noble,” he joked.

We asked Zone’s owner, Adam Schaeffer, to give us the rundown on the F4 feature set.