Why the A-Frame All-Track Might Be the “Final Answer”, by So
By So
Hello everyone! Today’s feature is by So! After my initial review on the A-frame All-Track I decided to leave the bike with him for some more testing. And after a few more months we finally have a totally different point of view on this bike. If you’d like to submit your guest articles, don't hesitate to use the contact page to get in touch!
Enjoy the read!
While I’m still young, I want to try everything. Every kind of bike, every kind of riding, and ultimately, every kind of mistake. Right now, I’m still a student, and I feel like this is the time to explore without limits. Fixed gears in the city, long rides for no reason, and even muddy detours into forests on rainy days. Bicycles aren’t just a hobby; to me, they come as far as a way of testing life. And after riding many different frames, I found one that made me think something unexpected:
In the end… this is probably where I’ll "arrive."
That bike is the A-Frame All-Track. Not because it’s perfect (because it’s not). But because it feels like some sort of a “final” answer.
To be honest, the All-Track isn’t a traditional fixed-gear frame, and some riders might even see that as a weakness. It doesn’t have that brutally stiff, aggressive feeling that many modern track frames chase, the kind of bike that screams, “I’m going to shred the city and go as hard as I can!” The acceleration isn’t explosive in the way a Parallax or other pure crit machines can feel.
At first, I noticed it immediately. But after spending real time with it, I realized something: This isn’t a step backwards. It feels more like an optimization or a feature. The All-Track sits in a rare middle ground, where it’s not as harsh as carbon and not as heavy as steel. It’s probably the “titanium balance” that I’ve been hearing and reading about.
It flows through the city with comfort but still reacts sharply when you need it to. Weaving through traffic, cutting corners, and moving fast in tight Paris streets felt right on the All-Track.
This isn’t a bike that demands power but rewards rhythm and feels like it’s made for spinning.
Paul wrote before about one of the strange realities of anodized titanium: the color layer is incredibly thin. Scratches don’t disappear; they just…stay. It’s everywhere: the places where your lock rubs, where stones hit the downtube, and where the city slowly leaves its marks.
But honestly? That’s part of the beauty. Those scratches are like film grain. Proof that the bike is living. A record of movement, weather, time, and your overall experience with the All-Track. Titanium doesn’t pretend to stay perfect. It just keeps going, and I think there is beauty in that.
This is one of the only true tracklocross-capable titanium frames you can still buy, and that alone makes it special. But beyond rarity, titanium has real daily advantages: It doesn’t rust, doesn’t mind rain, and doesn’t demand constant care, and after a muddy ride, you can simply spray it down with water, and it’s pretty much ready again.
It’s tough, but in a way that makes you relax. No nervous carbon fragility, no winter corrosion. Just a frame that wants to be ridden, again and again.
For me, the tire clearance has been everything recently. 42mm slicks on a fixed gear change what a city can feel like. Cobblestones stop being painful, curbs stop being dramatic, and gravel rides become an invitation instead of a limitation. Even if the All-Track was tailored to be a real tracklocross racing rig, riding it every day in Paris showed me that there is more to this bike than I thought.
When my friends Jun and Soraki rode it here, they both said the same thing: “It turns so well.” And they were right; the All-Track has again a rare combination: stable and comfortable but alive in the corners.
Lately, I also got tired of riser bars. So I switched to drop bars, partly for style, partly for function, but mostly because it felt like the way this frame wanted to be ridden. And honestly, with the sloping geometry, drops just look right.
A couple of times after school, I gripped the drops and just flowed with the city. And that’s when I discovered that the All-Track does something strange: it made me leave my usual path home. Instead of staying in traffic, I drift toward the Seine River. Away from noise, from urgency, and then, almost without thinking, I end up in the forest. Fat tires on gravel, quiet air, just the sound of a fixed gear humming through trees.
It feels like entering another world, where time softens, emotions fade, and it’s only the simple machine and nature that remain.
On my older track bikes, I hated cobblestones. The vibration, the harshness, and the constant feeling of fighting the ground. But with the All-Track, I can cruise, breathe, and have that extra margin. Enough leeway to look around, stop at a good-looking café, and overall enjoy being in the city instead of just surviving it.
Of course, I still love my MASH Work and soon I want to write about getting that bike from Paul, and how it’s changing in my hands… But the All-Track is lighter, rust-free, and feels endlessly capable
And that’s probably what I’m trying to say when I write that it feels like the “final destination” bike.
What’s my final answer then? Right now, there are still so many bikes I want to ride. So many frames I haven’t seen yet: New brands, old steel, strange experiments, and things that exist only for a few years before disappearing.
I want all of it, and to me that’s the excitement of youth. But one day, when time passes… When goals become clearer… When we, the ones who raced through our youth on fixed gears, decide to hold the handlebars again as adults…
This will be one of the top candidates waiting for us. With the glow of titanium, a calm handling, and some sort of “quiet freedom.”
Will the A-Frame All-Track still be there? Like a final answer to my forever question: