Anticipation is the greatest joy, they say. At 1 p.m. sharp, I stand in the workshop full of anticipation, ready to witness some black magic. My pulse is nervous, my palms sweaty. My gaze first focusses on the martial apparatus, then slowly wanders around the room.
Prototype frames that look like props from the next Batman movie hang on the walls. The workbenches bear the marks of countless work steps. Around them, a dozen people. All of them have come to witness the event, all of them are looking ahead. Nobody wants to miss what is about to be born from a machine the size of a small lorry. Mountain bike history is being written today at the official geographical centre of the European Union - and I was allowed to contribute my own lines.
Without a local guide, I would have driven past the location. The grey-brown building with the green window frames stands in the middle of an industrial estate. Only from one side do large panes of glass provide a view into the rooms, which are illuminated by neon lights.
Even before a visitor enters the premises of Bike Ahead Composites, they make one thing clear: this is not a sterile office complex, not an encapsulated command centre where only Excel spreadsheets are pushed from left to right. This is a living organism with 37 employees, a manufacturing company where everything hisses and hums.
As a BIKE editor, I have used the term "manufacture construction" dozens of times in texts about the carbon parts from Veitshochheim. Only now do I understand what it really means.
Wheel out of the bag
A worry line runs across Christian Gemperlein's forehead. The phone, which is clipped to the pocket of his jeans, rings for the third time in ten minutes. The 44-year-old ignores the disturbance, puts on a friendly face and holds out his hand to me.
He is the type of person who makes time for things. Today he's taking time for me. "Here on the table is your wheel," says Gemperlein, pointing to a seemingly random plastic bag. I am unsettled. Refrigerated and packaged? A carbon wheel is not a piece of cheese!
The bag contains so-called "prepregs", the base material for all carbon bike parts. They are manufactured from Asian carbon fibres by a European supplier. The mats, which are pre-impregnated with resin and wound onto large rolls, are stored on site in cold rooms at -18 degrees. This means that the raw material can be kept for up to twelve months and is always fresh when processed.
Every carbon component, whether handlebar, wheel or frame, has its own two-dimensional layer plan. Gemperlein's company naturally develops and realises the cutting itself. Around 60 large and small pieces are stacked in the bag. A bag of carbon fibres with some resin - and that's what my 32-inch wheel is supposed to be made from today? A high-end product costing several thousand euros, on which I will hurtle down the mountain at 70 kilometres an hour? It all still sounds like hocus-pocus.
Black gold
When Christian Gemperlein test rode his first carbon mountain bike in the 90s, it broke in two in the car park. Today, the engineer for plastics and elastomer technology is something like the carbon pope of Europe. As part of his degree thesis, he developed the first "Biturbo", a super-lightweight wheel with an iconic six-spoke design that remains a Bike Ahead trademark to this day. 2026 marks the company's 15th anniversary. Unique selling point: carbon components "made in Germany". No one else in Germany does this in a comparable style and scope.
Bike Ahead offers one of the very rare opportunities to gain an insight into the production of carbon bike parts. Almost the entire rest of the bike world has its carbon parts manufactured in Taiwan or China and the Asian mega-factories are generally closed to outsiders.
"We have to pay attention to quality from the very first production step," says Gemperlein. "The part has to come out of the negative mould as perfectly as possible. The labour required to correct defects afterwards would be unaffordable in Germany."
It is therefore not permitted to take photos of the huge aluminium mould on the workbench in front of us - company secret! The CNC mould is milled by a toolmaker in the neighbourhood. The 80-kilo block is the sinfully expensive foundation stone for the latest 32-inch wheelset, which weighs around 1500 grams.
Carbon from manual labour
"There you go," says Gemperlein, holding out a strip of prepreg that will one day become a spoke. I carefully spray ice spray onto the part to remove the protective film from the self-adhesive snippet and gradually press it into the preheated mould with my fingers.
When I arrive at the point where the hub shell is to be formed, I realise that the strip is suddenly too long. I've fiddled around too much and the material has stretched. "Never mind," smiles the master craftsman and corrects my faux pas. The carbon mastermind has already built hundreds of wheels and still helps out in production almost every day.
However, it is the first wheelset in series production trim with a 32-inch diameter to be created here. Ten prototypes have already gone through the test phase. Naturally, the Biturbo X was adapted to the new dimensions by the engineering department in the next room and was given a wider support at the transition between the spokes and rim, for example.
All the engineers are bikers themselves and the trails start right behind the industrial estate. The six-spoke design is a competitive advantage. Reports of other manufacturers' 32-inch wheels breaking have already made the rounds in insider circles. Major brands are keeping a low profile.
The problem: the spokes and nipples of conventional wheels are under tension and the large lever of the 32-inch wheels can bring the material to its knees in tough off-road conditions. The Biturbo wheel, on the other hand, is produced as a carbon monocoque without any bonding or other joints. However, this requires perfect craftsmanship. It takes two months to train a laminator. Hopefully my amateur spoke will last!
Puzzle game with heart and soul
Gemperlein patiently explains the next steps to me, but soon relieves me. A plastic tube is now placed between the carbon layers, which will later press everything together under pressure from the inside. If this tube bursts, all the work will have been in vain. "Today, this only happens in five per cent of cases. In the early years, however, there were a lot of rejects," the company boss gives me an insight into his tolerance for frustration. I watch him with fascination as he places the prepregs like an experienced surgeon with his hands wrapped in blue rubber gloves. Precisely, with concentration and according to the pattern memorised in his head.
Carbon construction is a science. The power transmission along the fibres made of carbon compounds is excellent. I could easily hang onto a single fibre with my 80 kilos. However, if the fibres are positioned incorrectly by just 20 degrees, the load capacity drops by 50 percent. Unidirectional carbon or woven fabric? Which type of prepreg with which fibre orientation should be used in which position is the purest puzzle, depending on the expected load from twisting or impacts and ultimately determines stiffness and flex.
The fact that Gemperlein and his team were able to launch a ready-to-ride 32-inch wheelset so quickly is down to their experience alone. "Carbon is absolutely not a soulless material. We put our heart and soul into our parts," Gemperlein points out. "And time," he adds, because even the inventor himself needs over six hours to laminate a wheelset.
That's how long the mould is occupied. Bike-Ahead components are created piece by piece. Only what is needed is produced. The warehouse is tiny. In the Far East, the prepregs are often wrapped around a positive core so that many parts can be built at the same time. In Veitshöchheim, the production time for a set of Biturbos is a full two days.
Bake, bake, impeller
The tension in the room is almost palpable. Finally, the lid of the autoclave opens. Inside, it looks like the round belly of a space capsule that has just returned from Mars: hoses, valves and half a dozen aluminium moulds are stacked on a heavy metal sled. In fact, this is the same technology that is used to produce parts for space travel and Formula One racing.
It takes one hour for the autoclave to build up the six bar pressure in the inner tubes of the moulds, the vacuum and the 120 degree temperature around them. The black monster then runs for two hours. The spectacle takes place up to three times a day, as the moulds need to be reused as quickly as possible.
"When the door opens, every move has to be right," explains Gemperlein. The workers have 20 minutes to demould all the components. While the aluminium contracts as it cools, carbon remains dimensionally stable. If the team is too slow, the valuable parts could simply be crushed.
80 per cent: That's how confident the boss is that my wheel has survived the process. Uff, confidence sounds different! I'm given gloves so that I don't burn myself on the mould, which is over 100 degrees, and lift the lid off together with Gemperlein. There it is, the freshly baked 32-inch wheel centre. It looks huge and futuristic. Gemperlein releases the part with a lot of feeling. His satisfied expression reassures me.
Cutting diamonds
No assembly line work, no jumpers: production at Bike Ahead relies on every single employee. If someone is absent, creativity is required or the boss steps in. Manual labour is the biggest bottleneck. A maximum of 100 Biturbo wheels can leave the factory each year.
The small, flexible company has an agility advantage over the industry giants. It can react more quickly to the new wheel standard and thus supply the so-called "early adopters". Gemperlein can hardly save itself from enquiries.
Frame builders, developers, racers: everyone around the world wants to get in on the new trend and needs the right wheels for testing. Employee Peggy doesn't let this stress her out. Nor should she, because her job is to conscientiously transform the wheel blanks into jewels.
The resin edges need to be removed and the surface needs to be sanded. I feel a little queasy as I enter the room with the extraction table together with Peggy. For her, the breathing mask is routine. She is very adept at scraping off the resin edges and running the sander over the carbon fibre.
The hand-built wheels are not painted. Instead, an extremely stable sealant keeps the surface fresh and ensures that the parts can be refurbished again and again. This design language also keeps the focus on the essentials: The perfect quality of the carbon.
First work
As I climb the stairs with the almost finished wheel in my hand, final assembly worker David turns down the music. "I finished it last night," he says happily. David composes laid-back electro sounds in his spare time and likes to refine his creations with feedback from his colleagues.
I get to look over his shoulder. The final steps include applying the decals and inserting the freewheel body. This is where the assembly standards are adapted to the customer's wishes. All values, including the final weight and the final concentricity check, are stored in a database. My wheelset is the first model in the 32-inch category.
Conclusion
100 per cent handmade in Germany: only now do I understand how much work, time and art is really behind this claim. Carbon production is not black magic, but a craft. The Bike Ahead Biturbo X 32 Safe Wing offers a glimpse into the future, but is about as far removed from off-the-shelf products as Veitshöchheim is from Taichung. - Jan Timmermann, BIKE editor
Teaser
Curious about which bike the 32-inch wheel should fit into? There are still hardly any suitable frames to buy. That's why our reporter built his own personalised frame. The report will soon be available here at BIKE.
Jan Timmermann
Editor
