Asylum Cycles no longer exists, but we love our Asylums, and this site serves to remind us of what a fantastic bike the OCD was, and still is for those of us lucky enough to own one!
The Asylum Mission Statement
A good bike company doesn't come to life because someone smells a money making opportunity. It's born out of a need to create something perfect, a bicycle that satisfies a need. You try to forget about it. You ride lots of other bikes--the finest bikes in the world-- and tell yourself they're fine, that it's just you, that this perfect bike you've been dreaming of is all in your head, and that's where it should stay.
But it never goes away. Before you go to sleep at night, you're thinking about it. Wake up, and there it is. You just have to create this bike. Sell them? Yeah, sure, whatever. But mostly you want one so you can ride it. Thing is, that kind of obsession usually means you're on to something, usually means you're not the only one who's going to love this bike. Here's where it gets complicated. See, most companies start designing bikes around market projections, demographics, and materials cost, and hey, good for them. There's a big market out there for crappy bikes. But our job, first and foremost, is never to settle, never to be satisfied, always to strive to create the perfect all-around bicycle--the one we want to ride ourselves. In standard business terms, a Mission Statement is a company's objective, what it does, and how it does it. Asylum Cycles was very simple: make the bikes they wanted to ride, and make them to their ridiculously high standards.
 What it Took
When they set out to create the ultimate 29er--a bike that handles like a 26" wheel bike but motors over everything in its path, claws its way up anything, and absolutely screams downhill--they needed to get their foundation right. All Asylum frames were made in the U.S.A. They had nothing against the welders in Taiwan, but you lose design control once you start outsourcing your work overseas, and they were obviously control freaks. They also felt strongly about not reinventing the wheel. Having ridden every nice bicycle out there, and serviced thousands of high-end bikes, and they started to see patterns, what worked and what didn't. The Titus-designed four-bar rear suspension system they used on their OCD frames is not only the perfect functioning system for use on a 29er, it's also the most durable system they'd found. In 2008, their original OCD prototype was still using the same main pivot bearings it was born with back in 2001, and there's nothing like the Racer-X system for soaking up all types of impacts without making you feel like you're riding around on a water bed. You just can't have an agile bike, something nimble and responsive, if your suspension system is constantly wallowing all over the place. The rising-rate Titus design is fully active, even under braking, and offers a firm platform under pedaling while still reacting to every impact, all while working in perfect harmony with the faster-rolling, big wheels. A 29er requires a very special suspension system, one that knows when to let the wheels do their thing, and when to step in. With the help of Titus, Asylum Cycles perfected the 29er suspension system. It didn't hurt that their system was also perfectly tuned for stiffness, so that you can put the hammer down with no wag, but driving hard into corners didn't cause the rear wheel to break loose and skip. Add the tuneability of a Fox RP3 rear shock, and a custom manipulated tubeset, and what you had was a world-class machine. They kept the frame weight down without compromising durability, so you can race an OCD all day long (literally!), or go hammering through the worst rock gardens with no worries.
Don't Quit Your Day Job
In his first season on an Asylum OCD 29er full-suspension frame, Ernesto Marenchin tore up the competition all season, scoring wins in nearly every epic endurance event he entered on his way to a truly world class season finale, 2nd place at the World Solo 24-hour Championships in Whistler, B.C. Were they proud of Ernie? You bet. But the thing they were most proud of was that, unlike all the other pro team athletes he beat all year, Ernie has a day job. That's right. Full-time. And it's not a half-ass "racer-boy" job, either. He works for a company the develops accounting software, meaning constant phone calls, business travel, the works. He's up at 5:00am for a morning training ride, off to work, then back home and on the bike. He's a superman, for sure, and dead sexy what with those lambchops, but the point it this: you have no excuse. What's it take to be considered the 2nd fastest solo 24-hour athlete in the world? It takes Ernie's mad skills, his insane training schedule and dedication, and his sheer ability to suffer and love it. And in 2005 it also took an Asylum OCD, the working man's podium machine. Second at Worlds. That's not too shabby for their first year as a bike company.
|
|
