
Once upon a time, bicycle headsets were like the prison system: they were gritty, they were full of caged balls, and they always needed overhauling. Now, however, there is a dizzying array of standards and designs: loose bearing; needle bearing; cartridge bearing. 1”; 1 1/8”; 1 ¼”. Threaded; threadless; integrated; internal; zero stack. Indeed, the headset is truly the most dynamic and exciting of all bicycle components.
Needless to say, when Cane Creek sent me their new 110 headset to review, I was thrilled. If you don’t already know, the 110 name refers to the fact that this headset is backed by a 110-year warranty. Yep, that’s no misprint—110 years. I’m sure you’re asking yourself what allows Cane Creek to offer such an extraordinary guarantee. Well, firstly, they’re incredibly confident in their product. Secondly, the warranty is only valid for the original owner, and since the average human life expectancy these days is only around 80 years they’re anticipating very few claims after 2087. Thirdly, the 1 1/8th headset standard is already disappearing, so in the next few years it’s unlikely you’ll even be able to find a frame to put it in.
Not only does the 110 come with one of the best warranties in the business, but it also comes with some of the most persuasive promotional literature I’ve ever read. “Headsets lead a hard life,” it says, “so no wonder that it’s hard to find one that gives you 100 percent of what you’re looking for.” Well, 100 percent of what I’m looking for is a headset that allows your bars to turn, so if the 110 does that they’ve already succeeded. The literature also says, “We’ve designed and manufactured a few million headsets in our day, so we have some idea of what it takes to create a benchmark, no-compromise design.” Cane Creek certainly has made a lot of headsets. Not only that, but many of them were crappy and more vulnerable to water intrusion than the New Orleans levee system. You’ve got to figure that a company whose failures number in the millions must have learned a thing or two by now.
I was nearly sold, except for one thing: the price tag. $140 is pretty steep for a headset, which brings us to the anodized and laser-etched elephant in the room. That’s right, Chris King. It’s pretty obvious that the 110 is a shot of colorful head tube candy directly across the King bow. For years, King have been taunting Cane Creek with their technologically superior headsets. Furthermore, Chris King's anti-integration stance has make him the Governor George Wallace of headset manufacturers, and his rejection of the integrated standard culminated a few years back with a controversial protest in which he crucified himself outside of Cane Creek headquarters and read aloud from his famous anti-headset integration screed.
But King must be quaking in his Sidis now. Cane Creek have not only apparently figured out how to keep water out of a headset for more than a week, but they’ve also trumped King’s once-mighty 10 year warranty by a full decimal place. Sure, chances are your properly-serviced Chris King headset (or just about any headset) will still be turning 10 years and a day from now. But it’ll be turning without a warranty behind it. Maybe you can sashay blithely around on that kind of thin ice, but I can’t.
Well, Cane Creek had me convinced on paper, but it was time to try the 110 out and see if it lived up to the hype. I grabbed one of my two BSNYC test-cycles, went over to Dave Moulton’s blog for some headset installation advice, and got to work. Now, I’m always extremely careful when applying hardware to my test-cycles, but unfortunately things did not go as smoothly as I’d hoped. No matter how hard I turned the bolts on my homemade press, the cups would not seat themselves in the head tube. I double-checked that both the headset and the head tube were 1 1/8” in diameter, and indeed they were. I re-read Dave’s instructions and, convinced I was on the right track, went back to work. Still, though, the cups refused to seat, and in fact I noticed that both the headset and the head tube had begun to deform. I had crushed my test-cycle!
So I called Cane Creek, and I learned two important things. Firstly, the standard headset they sent me was apparently not compatible with my test-cycle’s integrated head tube. Secondly, the 110-year warranty does not cover user stupidity.
That said, I still give the 110 high marks. Since its only shortcoming was incompatibility with my frame, it’s unlikely a King headset would have worked any better. So in that respect, they’re at least equal. Secondly, Cane Creek have informed me that they have several new improvements planned for the 110 that will make it even more competitive with the King. These improvements include: a blue and white Zionist color scheme to compete with King’s popular Rasta; a set of oil and vinegar cruets they expect will outsell King’s salt and pepper shakers; and a revolutionary new proprietary top cap.
Now that’s what I call getting a-head!
Needless to say, when Cane Creek sent me their new 110 headset to review, I was thrilled. If you don’t already know, the 110 name refers to the fact that this headset is backed by a 110-year warranty. Yep, that’s no misprint—110 years. I’m sure you’re asking yourself what allows Cane Creek to offer such an extraordinary guarantee. Well, firstly, they’re incredibly confident in their product. Secondly, the warranty is only valid for the original owner, and since the average human life expectancy these days is only around 80 years they’re anticipating very few claims after 2087. Thirdly, the 1 1/8th headset standard is already disappearing, so in the next few years it’s unlikely you’ll even be able to find a frame to put it in.
Not only does the 110 come with one of the best warranties in the business, but it also comes with some of the most persuasive promotional literature I’ve ever read. “Headsets lead a hard life,” it says, “so no wonder that it’s hard to find one that gives you 100 percent of what you’re looking for.” Well, 100 percent of what I’m looking for is a headset that allows your bars to turn, so if the 110 does that they’ve already succeeded. The literature also says, “We’ve designed and manufactured a few million headsets in our day, so we have some idea of what it takes to create a benchmark, no-compromise design.” Cane Creek certainly has made a lot of headsets. Not only that, but many of them were crappy and more vulnerable to water intrusion than the New Orleans levee system. You’ve got to figure that a company whose failures number in the millions must have learned a thing or two by now.
I was nearly sold, except for one thing: the price tag. $140 is pretty steep for a headset, which brings us to the anodized and laser-etched elephant in the room. That’s right, Chris King. It’s pretty obvious that the 110 is a shot of colorful head tube candy directly across the King bow. For years, King have been taunting Cane Creek with their technologically superior headsets. Furthermore, Chris King's anti-integration stance has make him the Governor George Wallace of headset manufacturers, and his rejection of the integrated standard culminated a few years back with a controversial protest in which he crucified himself outside of Cane Creek headquarters and read aloud from his famous anti-headset integration screed.
But King must be quaking in his Sidis now. Cane Creek have not only apparently figured out how to keep water out of a headset for more than a week, but they’ve also trumped King’s once-mighty 10 year warranty by a full decimal place. Sure, chances are your properly-serviced Chris King headset (or just about any headset) will still be turning 10 years and a day from now. But it’ll be turning without a warranty behind it. Maybe you can sashay blithely around on that kind of thin ice, but I can’t.
Well, Cane Creek had me convinced on paper, but it was time to try the 110 out and see if it lived up to the hype. I grabbed one of my two BSNYC test-cycles, went over to Dave Moulton’s blog for some headset installation advice, and got to work. Now, I’m always extremely careful when applying hardware to my test-cycles, but unfortunately things did not go as smoothly as I’d hoped. No matter how hard I turned the bolts on my homemade press, the cups would not seat themselves in the head tube. I double-checked that both the headset and the head tube were 1 1/8” in diameter, and indeed they were. I re-read Dave’s instructions and, convinced I was on the right track, went back to work. Still, though, the cups refused to seat, and in fact I noticed that both the headset and the head tube had begun to deform. I had crushed my test-cycle!
So I called Cane Creek, and I learned two important things. Firstly, the standard headset they sent me was apparently not compatible with my test-cycle’s integrated head tube. Secondly, the 110-year warranty does not cover user stupidity.
That said, I still give the 110 high marks. Since its only shortcoming was incompatibility with my frame, it’s unlikely a King headset would have worked any better. So in that respect, they’re at least equal. Secondly, Cane Creek have informed me that they have several new improvements planned for the 110 that will make it even more competitive with the King. These improvements include: a blue and white Zionist color scheme to compete with King’s popular Rasta; a set of oil and vinegar cruets they expect will outsell King’s salt and pepper shakers; and a revolutionary new proprietary top cap.
Now that’s what I call getting a-head!