There is something about titanium that gets under your skin. It’s not just about the weight or the look; it’s about how it feels when the pavement starts to get rough. My history with Moots started in the mid-90s, and after a thirty-year detour through steel and carbon, I’ve finally come full circle.

The Commuter Experiment

It started with a Bontrager Race Lite that I was building into a commuter for my rides from Bogota, NJ, down to SoHo. If you’ve ever done that commute, you know it’s a mix of bridge crossings and city chop. The Bontrager had a 1” steerer, which was already on its way out. A friend suggested I call Moots for a 1” stem.

At $110, it was four times the price of the "shwag" parts available at the time, but I wanted something American-made. I wouldn't call the resulting ride "smooth sailing"—NYC streets don't really allow for that—but that stem made a noticeable difference. It soaked up just enough of the high-frequency vibration from the steel frame to make those miles into the city a lot more tolerable.

By 2004, my road bike—a custom 6-speed Joe Waugh (built with Reynolds 531 tubing, a Cinelli cockpit, and Super Record components)—was tired. Titanium was the big thing then, and because of that Moots stem on the Bontrager, I couldn’t look at anything else.

I actually had to convince my local bike shop to become a Moots dealer just so they could order my Vamoots frame and stem. I built it with Campy Super Record 10-speed, Mavic rims, and a Reynolds Fork. It was agile and supple—the kind of bike you could stay on all day. I took it everywhere: NYC to Boston, Jersey to Lake George, and 60-mile round-trip commutes a few times a week. I eventually moved on to a carbon bike around 2010, and the Vamoots went into retirement.

The 2024 Resurrection

Fast forward to 2024. Our company offices moved, and the new building had a strict 'no bikes in the building' policy. Since I still wanted to be green and get my miles in, I pulled the Vamoots out of the shadows. It was the perfect candidate for the comeback; because it had already seen its fair share of miles, I didn't mind the idea of locking it up outside while I was at my desk.

I’m still a tubular guy, so I glued on some fresh rubber, swapped the cables, and cleaned the drivetrain. The first ride back was a "wow" moment. It wasn't as stiff as my carbon bike, but it felt remarkably good.

The TradeUp

After a month of commuting on it again, I started wondering if I could modernize it. I called Moots to see if they could replace the chain and seat stays to fit disc brakes and a 12-speed drivetrain. I talked to a guy who sounded like he was having a very "happy" day out in Colorado—you know the vibe.

"No way, dude," he told me. But then he pointed me toward their new TradeUp Program.

It turns out, Moots offered me a $2,000 credit for my old frame. Considering I originally paid about $1,750 for it twenty years ago, I definitely feel like I got the better end of that deal.

One Year Later

I’ve been riding the Routt 45 for a year now. I may not have started as a "gravel guy," but this bike has a way of changing your mind. After twelve months in the saddle, I have plenty to say about how it handles the daily grind and beyond.

Look for upcoming posts where I’ll be drooling over the Routt 45 and breaking down why it was the best upgrade I’ve ever made.