The SL8 Build Diaries / 6.42kg
Moderators: MrCurrieinahurry, maxim809, Moderator Team
The Build Begins: My New Specialized Tarmac SL8 S-Works
They say good things come to those who wait. Well, I’ve waited, refreshed tracking numbers, stalked delivery vans, and possibly scared my neighbors with my bike-shaped excitement. But here it is: MY Specialized Tarmac SL8 S-Works.
Now, let’s clear something up. This isn’t my first rodeo. My first build was a Canyon Ultimate CF SLX—a sub-6kg featherweight speed machine that defied gravity and all notions of financial responsibility. It was the bike equivalent of a supermodel: stunning, fast, and slightly temperamental. That trusty Canyon has now been retired, though it's memory still hangs in my mind, glaring at me like a jealous ex every time I climb aboard my SL8.
Why the upgrade? Let’s just say I decided it was time for something with a little more aero and a little less “did the wind just move my bike?” And honestly, while the Canyon was light enough to make me a Strava hero uphill, the Tarmac is here to make sure I look good doing it. Sometimes you want to win; sometimes you just want to win in style
This isn’t just a frame. It’s a promise. A promise that I will grab some Strava KOMs, even if it’s just because I parked closer to my rides. A promise that my garage now has more carbon per square meter than an F1 team. And most importantly, a promise that I’ll have to pedal really fast just to justify owning it.
Stay tuned as I build this beauty into a two-wheeled masterpiece. Next up: components, drama, and the inevitable existential crisis over choosing bar tape color.
Welcome to the SL8 Build Diaries. It’s going to be one hell of a ride.
They say good things come to those who wait. Well, I’ve waited, refreshed tracking numbers, stalked delivery vans, and possibly scared my neighbors with my bike-shaped excitement. But here it is: MY Specialized Tarmac SL8 S-Works.
Now, let’s clear something up. This isn’t my first rodeo. My first build was a Canyon Ultimate CF SLX—a sub-6kg featherweight speed machine that defied gravity and all notions of financial responsibility. It was the bike equivalent of a supermodel: stunning, fast, and slightly temperamental. That trusty Canyon has now been retired, though it's memory still hangs in my mind, glaring at me like a jealous ex every time I climb aboard my SL8.
Why the upgrade? Let’s just say I decided it was time for something with a little more aero and a little less “did the wind just move my bike?” And honestly, while the Canyon was light enough to make me a Strava hero uphill, the Tarmac is here to make sure I look good doing it. Sometimes you want to win; sometimes you just want to win in style
This isn’t just a frame. It’s a promise. A promise that I will grab some Strava KOMs, even if it’s just because I parked closer to my rides. A promise that my garage now has more carbon per square meter than an F1 team. And most importantly, a promise that I’ll have to pedal really fast just to justify owning it.
Stay tuned as I build this beauty into a two-wheeled masterpiece. Next up: components, drama, and the inevitable existential crisis over choosing bar tape color.
Welcome to the SL8 Build Diaries. It’s going to be one hell of a ride.
Last edited by mmaslen on Fri Dec 06, 2024 9:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Meet the Star of the Show: My Specialized Tarmac SL8 S-Works Frame
Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on this absolute stunner: my “new” (but basically fresh-out-of-the-box) Specialized Tarmac SL8 S-Works frame in the jaw-dropping White Dune Pearl colorway. It’s 56cm of pure performance, wrapped in a paint job that shimmers like a desert mirage and whispers, “Catch me if you can.”
Yes, I bought this beauty second-hand—but don’t let that fool you. With just 30 miles on it, it’s practically showroom fresh. It’s like buying a Ferrari that’s only been driven to the corner store and back. Honestly, I’ve seen bikes on display in shops that look worse. Immaculate isn’t even the right word. This frame is pristine. It’s the kind of condition that makes you scared to even breathe on it.
And the size? 56cm. Just right for me and my plans to turn this into the perfect balance of speed, comfort, and “why does that guy’s bike look so much faster than mine?”
This frame is the Mona Lisa of minimal mileage, the Fabergé egg of two-wheeled engineering. Stay tuned as I start to piece together what will (hopefully) become the ultimate speed machine.
Next up: components and my first minor meltdown while Googling “best wheelset for Tarmac SL8.” Wish me luck.
Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on this absolute stunner: my “new” (but basically fresh-out-of-the-box) Specialized Tarmac SL8 S-Works frame in the jaw-dropping White Dune Pearl colorway. It’s 56cm of pure performance, wrapped in a paint job that shimmers like a desert mirage and whispers, “Catch me if you can.”
Yes, I bought this beauty second-hand—but don’t let that fool you. With just 30 miles on it, it’s practically showroom fresh. It’s like buying a Ferrari that’s only been driven to the corner store and back. Honestly, I’ve seen bikes on display in shops that look worse. Immaculate isn’t even the right word. This frame is pristine. It’s the kind of condition that makes you scared to even breathe on it.
And the size? 56cm. Just right for me and my plans to turn this into the perfect balance of speed, comfort, and “why does that guy’s bike look so much faster than mine?”
This frame is the Mona Lisa of minimal mileage, the Fabergé egg of two-wheeled engineering. Stay tuned as I start to piece together what will (hopefully) become the ultimate speed machine.
Next up: components and my first minor meltdown while Googling “best wheelset for Tarmac SL8.” Wish me luck.
The Art of Weight Weenie-ing: Decals, Glue, and Gold Bling
Let me tell you, no one warns you about the blood, sweat, and tears involved in taking over someone else’s frame. This Specialized Tarmac SL8 S-Works came wrapped in InvisiFrame—a nice gesture for protection, sure, but a nightmare for a Weight Weenie like me. That stuff weighed 80 grams! Eighty. Grams. That’s basically a crime in this forum.
pump
So, like any good obsessive, I grabbed the wife's hairdryer, some patience, and a willingness to lose hours of my life. Peeling off the wrap? Easy. Removing the glue residue it left behind? That’s where the real endurance came in. This wasn’t just cleaning; this was a battle of wills. I emerged victorious (and probably slightly high on adhesive remover fumes), but the frame is now 80 grams lighter and gleaming like it was born yesterday.
With that weighty evil vanquished, I turned my attention to the next challenge: decals. Enter Speedy Decals, a delightful little corner of the internet where English and Italian collide in a linguistic game of charades. After decoding their website like I was cracking the Enigma code, I ordered some gold metallic decals. Yes, gold. Because let’s be honest—when you’re riding an S-Works, subtlety is overrated. Go big or go home.
The decals finally arrived, and wow. They are as bold, showy, and unapologetically in-your-face as I’d hoped. Exactly what a frame of this caliber deserves. Because if you’re going to ride a bike like this, you don’t hide it in the shadows.
The frame, now fully blinged out and ready to turn heads.
Next up: deciding which components deserve to join this golden masterpiece.
Let me tell you, no one warns you about the blood, sweat, and tears involved in taking over someone else’s frame. This Specialized Tarmac SL8 S-Works came wrapped in InvisiFrame—a nice gesture for protection, sure, but a nightmare for a Weight Weenie like me. That stuff weighed 80 grams! Eighty. Grams. That’s basically a crime in this forum.
pump
So, like any good obsessive, I grabbed the wife's hairdryer, some patience, and a willingness to lose hours of my life. Peeling off the wrap? Easy. Removing the glue residue it left behind? That’s where the real endurance came in. This wasn’t just cleaning; this was a battle of wills. I emerged victorious (and probably slightly high on adhesive remover fumes), but the frame is now 80 grams lighter and gleaming like it was born yesterday.
With that weighty evil vanquished, I turned my attention to the next challenge: decals. Enter Speedy Decals, a delightful little corner of the internet where English and Italian collide in a linguistic game of charades. After decoding their website like I was cracking the Enigma code, I ordered some gold metallic decals. Yes, gold. Because let’s be honest—when you’re riding an S-Works, subtlety is overrated. Go big or go home.
The decals finally arrived, and wow. They are as bold, showy, and unapologetically in-your-face as I’d hoped. Exactly what a frame of this caliber deserves. Because if you’re going to ride a bike like this, you don’t hide it in the shadows.
The frame, now fully blinged out and ready to turn heads.
Next up: deciding which components deserve to join this golden masterpiece.
Cockpit Chronicles: Narrow Bars, Big Decisions, and the Winner Is…
Choosing a cockpit for the Tarmac SL8 S-Works was like dating in your 30s: I wanted something lightweight, reliable, and not riddled with red flags. Unfortunately, the standard Specialized Roval Rapide wasn’t it. Overweight, painfully common, and limited in stem lengths—it’s basically the IKEA bookshelf of cockpits. Functional? Sure. Exciting? Not so much.
I had a vision: narrow bars (36cm for that razor-sharp aero look) and a 100mm stem. Cue hours of obsessive internet browsing. Here’s how it went down:
• Darimo Nexum Drag: Super light, but rougher than sandpaper on a first ride. Nope.
• Avian Canary: Tempting for weight, but QC that screams “it’s fine… probably” and flexy as a pool noodle? Hard pass.
• EXS: Solid contender, but a tad on the heavy side and nearly impossible to find without a treasure map.
And then I found The One: the Farsports F1X. The moment I saw it, I knew we were a match. It ticked every box:
• Lightweight?
• Beautiful quality and finish?
• Perfect fit for the SL8 frame?
• Internal cable routing that made my mechanic practically weep with joy?
It even came with all the necessary SL8 spacers and an integrated computer mount. Honestly, it’s like they knew me. The Farsports F1X is sleek, refined, and makes the bike look fast even while sitting still.
The cockpit is now dialed in and ready for action. Next up: the heart and soul of the build—the groupset. Stay tuned as I navigate the world of shiny derailleurs, questionable marketing claims, and decisions that will definitely cause sleepless nights.
Choosing a cockpit for the Tarmac SL8 S-Works was like dating in your 30s: I wanted something lightweight, reliable, and not riddled with red flags. Unfortunately, the standard Specialized Roval Rapide wasn’t it. Overweight, painfully common, and limited in stem lengths—it’s basically the IKEA bookshelf of cockpits. Functional? Sure. Exciting? Not so much.
I had a vision: narrow bars (36cm for that razor-sharp aero look) and a 100mm stem. Cue hours of obsessive internet browsing. Here’s how it went down:
• Darimo Nexum Drag: Super light, but rougher than sandpaper on a first ride. Nope.
• Avian Canary: Tempting for weight, but QC that screams “it’s fine… probably” and flexy as a pool noodle? Hard pass.
• EXS: Solid contender, but a tad on the heavy side and nearly impossible to find without a treasure map.
And then I found The One: the Farsports F1X. The moment I saw it, I knew we were a match. It ticked every box:
• Lightweight?
• Beautiful quality and finish?
• Perfect fit for the SL8 frame?
• Internal cable routing that made my mechanic practically weep with joy?
It even came with all the necessary SL8 spacers and an integrated computer mount. Honestly, it’s like they knew me. The Farsports F1X is sleek, refined, and makes the bike look fast even while sitting still.
The cockpit is now dialed in and ready for action. Next up: the heart and soul of the build—the groupset. Stay tuned as I navigate the world of shiny derailleurs, questionable marketing claims, and decisions that will definitely cause sleepless nights.
Groupset Gospel: In Shimano We Trust
When it comes to groupsets, there was never a question. I’ve been a lifelong Shimano addict. Some people swear by coffee to get them through life—I swear by buttery-smooth shifting and that sweet, sweet Di2 buzz. It’s never let me down, and I wasn’t about to start experimenting now.
So, for the Tarmac SL8, there was only one way to go: Dura-Ace Di2. Top-shelf components for a top-shelf frame. Anything less would have felt like putting budget tires on a Ferrari.
Let’s talk specifics:
• Derailleurs: Precise. Sexy. The mechanical embodiment of “treat yourself.”
• Levers: Ergonomic perfection. My hands feel like they’ve been pampered by a spa technician every time I shift.
• Cassette: I went with an 11-34. Why? Because even though this bike is fast, my legs aren’t about to scale hills without a little help. Call it mechanical teamwork.
Sure, the groupset cost as much as a weekend in the French Alps, but hey—this bike deserves nothing but the best, and so do I. Now, with Dura-Ace Di2 in place, this build is inching closer to perfection.
Next up: cranks.
When it comes to groupsets, there was never a question. I’ve been a lifelong Shimano addict. Some people swear by coffee to get them through life—I swear by buttery-smooth shifting and that sweet, sweet Di2 buzz. It’s never let me down, and I wasn’t about to start experimenting now.
So, for the Tarmac SL8, there was only one way to go: Dura-Ace Di2. Top-shelf components for a top-shelf frame. Anything less would have felt like putting budget tires on a Ferrari.
Let’s talk specifics:
• Derailleurs: Precise. Sexy. The mechanical embodiment of “treat yourself.”
• Levers: Ergonomic perfection. My hands feel like they’ve been pampered by a spa technician every time I shift.
• Cassette: I went with an 11-34. Why? Because even though this bike is fast, my legs aren’t about to scale hills without a little help. Call it mechanical teamwork.
Sure, the groupset cost as much as a weekend in the French Alps, but hey—this bike deserves nothing but the best, and so do I. Now, with Dura-Ace Di2 in place, this build is inching closer to perfection.
Next up: cranks.
Crankset Royale: THM & Carbon Ti—A Match Made in Weight Weenie Heaven
When it came to choosing a crankset for this build, I didn’t have to think twice. Why? Because the perfect crankset was already sitting in my garage. Straight off my retired super-light Canyon Ultimate comes the legendary THM crankset—170mm arms of German-engineered brilliance, paired with Carbon-Ti chainrings in the oh-so-tasty 52/36 flavor.
Sure, there are pretenders to the throne—Cybrei and Elilee, the budget challengers from China. But let’s be real: they’re just auditioning for a role they’ll never get. Nothing comes close to the flawless craftsmanship, absurdly low weight, and sheer prestige of THM cranks fused with Carbon-Ti rings.
Lighter? Nope.
Better? Also nope.
More satisfying to stare at while pretending to tune your front derailleur? Definitely not.
These cranks are more than just functional; they’re pure art. They’ve been through a lot with me, and now they’re getting the upgrade they deserve: a home on this pristine Tarmac SL8 frame.
Next up: bottom bracket fun and games
When it came to choosing a crankset for this build, I didn’t have to think twice. Why? Because the perfect crankset was already sitting in my garage. Straight off my retired super-light Canyon Ultimate comes the legendary THM crankset—170mm arms of German-engineered brilliance, paired with Carbon-Ti chainrings in the oh-so-tasty 52/36 flavor.
Sure, there are pretenders to the throne—Cybrei and Elilee, the budget challengers from China. But let’s be real: they’re just auditioning for a role they’ll never get. Nothing comes close to the flawless craftsmanship, absurdly low weight, and sheer prestige of THM cranks fused with Carbon-Ti rings.
Lighter? Nope.
Better? Also nope.
More satisfying to stare at while pretending to tune your front derailleur? Definitely not.
These cranks are more than just functional; they’re pure art. They’ve been through a lot with me, and now they’re getting the upgrade they deserve: a home on this pristine Tarmac SL8 frame.
Next up: bottom bracket fun and games
Bottom Bracket Battles: THM Cranks and the Missing Sleeve Saga
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of setting up THM cranks, you’ll know they’re a bit like a temperamental artist: stunning when they’re dialed in, but demanding when it comes to setup. So naturally, I opted for a THM bottom bracket to keep things harmonious. Match the crank to the BB and call it a day, right? Wrong.
The bottom bracket arrived, and everything looked great—until I realized it was missing a critical piece: a bottom bracket sleeve. Without it, the crank axle could end up snuggling with my brake hoses and gear cables. And while I love lightweight engineering, I draw the line at bike parts playing bumper cars inside my frame.
Cue a polite-but-panicked email to THM. Turns out, they do make a sleeve to solve this issue, but here’s the kicker: it doesn’t come with the BB. You have to specifically ask for one. No extra charge, just an extra hoop to jump through. Luckily, THM sent one out, and the crank is now snug, secure, and no longer plotting its escape.
Consider this your PSA: If you’re using THM cranks with a THM bottom bracket, don’t forget to ask for the sleeve. It’s like ordering fries with your burger—essential, but apparently not included unless you ask.
Next up: wheels. Because now that the drivetrain is sorted, it’s time to make this bike fly. Stay tuned!
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of setting up THM cranks, you’ll know they’re a bit like a temperamental artist: stunning when they’re dialed in, but demanding when it comes to setup. So naturally, I opted for a THM bottom bracket to keep things harmonious. Match the crank to the BB and call it a day, right? Wrong.
The bottom bracket arrived, and everything looked great—until I realized it was missing a critical piece: a bottom bracket sleeve. Without it, the crank axle could end up snuggling with my brake hoses and gear cables. And while I love lightweight engineering, I draw the line at bike parts playing bumper cars inside my frame.
Cue a polite-but-panicked email to THM. Turns out, they do make a sleeve to solve this issue, but here’s the kicker: it doesn’t come with the BB. You have to specifically ask for one. No extra charge, just an extra hoop to jump through. Luckily, THM sent one out, and the crank is now snug, secure, and no longer plotting its escape.
Consider this your PSA: If you’re using THM cranks with a THM bottom bracket, don’t forget to ask for the sleeve. It’s like ordering fries with your burger—essential, but apparently not included unless you ask.
Next up: wheels. Because now that the drivetrain is sorted, it’s time to make this bike fly. Stay tuned!
The Wheel Dilemma: Navigating the Minefield of Spokes, Widths, and Depths
Ah, wheels. The most confusing rabbit hole in the world of cycling. Steel spokes or carbon? Internal rim width? External rim width? Rim depth? And most importantly—how light could I go without needing to remortgage my house or sell a kidney?
I wanted it all. Lightweight? Obviously. Aero? Absolutely. Comfort? Yes please—my back has been sending angry emails since the 25c tire era, and I needed something to make it happy. This meant room for some nice, fat rubber. So, I set my sights on a 25mm internal width and 30mm external, with a rim depth in the sweet spot of 50-60mm.
But of course, I couldn’t shake my weight-weenie tendencies entirely. 1200g wheels? Unrealistic. Aero beats weight any day at this depth, but let’s be honest, I still wanted them as light as possible without summoning a divorce lawyer.
Enter Farsports to save the day (again). After their excellent F1X cockpit, I went straight back to my friends in China for a set of Farsports S wheels. These beauties ticked every box:
• 5.0mm wide carbon spokes for stiffness and strength.
• Mixed rim depths: 50mm front for agility, 60mm rear for aero gains.
• Rim widths: 25mm internal, 30mm external. Perfect for the plush ride I was after.
• Steel bearings: Because ceramic bearings are like fancy coffee machines—cool on paper but completely unnecessary.
• Tubeless-ready rims…but I’ll be running TPU tubes and clincher tires because I’m still stuck in the 2000s and proud of it.
The weight? A respectable 1300g. Considering the aero gains and price point, this was a chef’s kiss decision. And for those shouting, “Why not the EVO spec rims?” let me stop you there. Sure, they’re 40g lighter, but they’re also $400 more. Instead, I saved the cash, treated myself to a swanky haircut, and cut 40g off my head. Net result? Still faster, still richer.
The only snag? Delivery took a little longer than expected. Apparently, Farsports is drowning in orders, which makes sense. When you’re onto a good thing, the whole world wants in.
Next up: tires and tubes, because you can’t roll on rims alone. Stay tuned as I go down yet another rabbit hole of debates about rolling resistance, grip, and which tires will make me look the fastest while standing still.
Ah, wheels. The most confusing rabbit hole in the world of cycling. Steel spokes or carbon? Internal rim width? External rim width? Rim depth? And most importantly—how light could I go without needing to remortgage my house or sell a kidney?
I wanted it all. Lightweight? Obviously. Aero? Absolutely. Comfort? Yes please—my back has been sending angry emails since the 25c tire era, and I needed something to make it happy. This meant room for some nice, fat rubber. So, I set my sights on a 25mm internal width and 30mm external, with a rim depth in the sweet spot of 50-60mm.
But of course, I couldn’t shake my weight-weenie tendencies entirely. 1200g wheels? Unrealistic. Aero beats weight any day at this depth, but let’s be honest, I still wanted them as light as possible without summoning a divorce lawyer.
Enter Farsports to save the day (again). After their excellent F1X cockpit, I went straight back to my friends in China for a set of Farsports S wheels. These beauties ticked every box:
• 5.0mm wide carbon spokes for stiffness and strength.
• Mixed rim depths: 50mm front for agility, 60mm rear for aero gains.
• Rim widths: 25mm internal, 30mm external. Perfect for the plush ride I was after.
• Steel bearings: Because ceramic bearings are like fancy coffee machines—cool on paper but completely unnecessary.
• Tubeless-ready rims…but I’ll be running TPU tubes and clincher tires because I’m still stuck in the 2000s and proud of it.
The weight? A respectable 1300g. Considering the aero gains and price point, this was a chef’s kiss decision. And for those shouting, “Why not the EVO spec rims?” let me stop you there. Sure, they’re 40g lighter, but they’re also $400 more. Instead, I saved the cash, treated myself to a swanky haircut, and cut 40g off my head. Net result? Still faster, still richer.
The only snag? Delivery took a little longer than expected. Apparently, Farsports is drowning in orders, which makes sense. When you’re onto a good thing, the whole world wants in.
Next up: tires and tubes, because you can’t roll on rims alone. Stay tuned as I go down yet another rabbit hole of debates about rolling resistance, grip, and which tires will make me look the fastest while standing still.
Tyres, Tubes, and the Pursuit of Comfy Speed
When it came to tyres and tubes, I made a conscious decision: no tubeless faff for me. Sure, tubeless has its fans, but the setup? A nightmare. The constant worry about sealant turning to crusty soup after a few weeks of neglect? Not my vibe. I’ve never been particularly unlucky with punctures, so I decided to live life on the edge (or the clincher, as it were): TPU tubes and clincher tyres.
Luckily, when my Farsports wheels finally arrived (fashionably late, of course), they threw in a pair of 19g RideNow TPU tubes as a peace offering. A thoughtful touch that made them my tubes of choice. Light, efficient, and free—what’s not to love?
Now, onto tyres. I had a very specific checklist:
• Wide? Absolutely. My back is basically a rolling list of complaints, and it demanded comfort.
• Fast? Of course. I want to cruise, not crawl.
• No tan sidewalls? Correct. I’m all about the stealthy look.
The answer? GP5000s. I went with a 30c front tyre for the perfect rim transition and a 32c rear tyre to maximize comfort. Yes, the rear does “light bulb” slightly on the rim, but let’s face it—by the time the air is tumbling past the back wheel, the aero ship has sailed. I’d rather keep my spine intact than worry about wind tunnel metrics.
And wow, did this combo deliver. On my first ride post-build, the difference was night and day compared to my old Canyon with its medieval 25c tyres and 18mm internal rims. The ride was fast, plush, and forgiving—everything I’d hoped for.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Wouldn’t 28c tyres be faster?” Maybe. But here’s the thing—at no point on a ride will my tyre width be the reason I’m not breaking the sound barrier. My back, however, might be the reason I stop early. So, for now, I’m sticking with the 30/32c combo and loving every moment.
Oh, and let’s talk pressures: I ran 60 psi in both tyres on the first ride, and wow, what a revelation. It’s a whole new world from the rock-hard 100+ psi days of yore. A contributing factor to that buttery ride feel? Definitely.
Next up: Stopping Power—because going fast is fun, but eventually, you have to stop. Let’s talk brakes, rotors, and how I ensured this speed machine can come to a halt with the same precision it takes off.
When it came to tyres and tubes, I made a conscious decision: no tubeless faff for me. Sure, tubeless has its fans, but the setup? A nightmare. The constant worry about sealant turning to crusty soup after a few weeks of neglect? Not my vibe. I’ve never been particularly unlucky with punctures, so I decided to live life on the edge (or the clincher, as it were): TPU tubes and clincher tyres.
Luckily, when my Farsports wheels finally arrived (fashionably late, of course), they threw in a pair of 19g RideNow TPU tubes as a peace offering. A thoughtful touch that made them my tubes of choice. Light, efficient, and free—what’s not to love?
Now, onto tyres. I had a very specific checklist:
• Wide? Absolutely. My back is basically a rolling list of complaints, and it demanded comfort.
• Fast? Of course. I want to cruise, not crawl.
• No tan sidewalls? Correct. I’m all about the stealthy look.
The answer? GP5000s. I went with a 30c front tyre for the perfect rim transition and a 32c rear tyre to maximize comfort. Yes, the rear does “light bulb” slightly on the rim, but let’s face it—by the time the air is tumbling past the back wheel, the aero ship has sailed. I’d rather keep my spine intact than worry about wind tunnel metrics.
And wow, did this combo deliver. On my first ride post-build, the difference was night and day compared to my old Canyon with its medieval 25c tyres and 18mm internal rims. The ride was fast, plush, and forgiving—everything I’d hoped for.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Wouldn’t 28c tyres be faster?” Maybe. But here’s the thing—at no point on a ride will my tyre width be the reason I’m not breaking the sound barrier. My back, however, might be the reason I stop early. So, for now, I’m sticking with the 30/32c combo and loving every moment.
Oh, and let’s talk pressures: I ran 60 psi in both tyres on the first ride, and wow, what a revelation. It’s a whole new world from the rock-hard 100+ psi days of yore. A contributing factor to that buttery ride feel? Definitely.
Next up: Stopping Power—because going fast is fun, but eventually, you have to stop. Let’s talk brakes, rotors, and how I ensured this speed machine can come to a halt with the same precision it takes off.
Stopping Power: Putting the Brakes on Ordinary
When it came to brakes, I wasn’t about to slap on Shimano or SRAM like every other rider and their grandma. Sure, they’re reliable and loved by 99% of cyclists, but this is an S-Works, not Dave’s turbo trainer hack. I needed something special. Something extra. Enter: Hope Technology.
Hope is basically British engineering royalty—think tea, crumpets, and CNC machines. Based out of Barnoldswick, they’ve been making bike bits since the ‘80s with a level of precision that would make a Swiss watchmaker blush. Their components are functional art, and their RX4+ calipers were the obvious choice. Why settle for two pistons when you can have four per caliper? These beauties scream “Rolls Royce stopping power,” and their black finish oozes sophistication.
That said, Hope’s customer support isn’t winning any awards for enthusiasm. My mechanic hinted that getting them dialed in would require a bit of patience—and probably some deep breathing exercises. But once set up, the brakes delivered power, modulation, and style in spades.
Enter the Rotors: Going Galactic with Galfer
Brakes without rotors are just fancy paperweights, so next up was finding the perfect discs. This time, I took my shopping list to Spain, where I settled on the Galfer Disc Wave rotors. These are the light, high-performance darlings of the rotor world, and I couldn’t resist their reputation.
I went with 160mm up front for maximum stopping power and 140mm at the rear for a little weight weenie cred. The kicker? They weighed exactly as advertised. Not “close to” or “roundabout”—exactly. That’s the kind of trustworthiness I can get behind.
Even better, they look absolutely stunning paired with the RX4+ calipers. A match made in braking heaven, now proudly spinning on my SL8.
Next up: The final touches—where I try to convince myself I’m done tinkering (spoiler: I’m never done).
When it came to brakes, I wasn’t about to slap on Shimano or SRAM like every other rider and their grandma. Sure, they’re reliable and loved by 99% of cyclists, but this is an S-Works, not Dave’s turbo trainer hack. I needed something special. Something extra. Enter: Hope Technology.
Hope is basically British engineering royalty—think tea, crumpets, and CNC machines. Based out of Barnoldswick, they’ve been making bike bits since the ‘80s with a level of precision that would make a Swiss watchmaker blush. Their components are functional art, and their RX4+ calipers were the obvious choice. Why settle for two pistons when you can have four per caliper? These beauties scream “Rolls Royce stopping power,” and their black finish oozes sophistication.
That said, Hope’s customer support isn’t winning any awards for enthusiasm. My mechanic hinted that getting them dialed in would require a bit of patience—and probably some deep breathing exercises. But once set up, the brakes delivered power, modulation, and style in spades.
Enter the Rotors: Going Galactic with Galfer
Brakes without rotors are just fancy paperweights, so next up was finding the perfect discs. This time, I took my shopping list to Spain, where I settled on the Galfer Disc Wave rotors. These are the light, high-performance darlings of the rotor world, and I couldn’t resist their reputation.
I went with 160mm up front for maximum stopping power and 140mm at the rear for a little weight weenie cred. The kicker? They weighed exactly as advertised. Not “close to” or “roundabout”—exactly. That’s the kind of trustworthiness I can get behind.
Even better, they look absolutely stunning paired with the RX4+ calipers. A match made in braking heaven, now proudly spinning on my SL8.
Next up: The final touches—where I try to convince myself I’m done tinkering (spoiler: I’m never done).
The Final Flourishes: Saddles, Axles, Cages, and Tape
With the big-ticket items sorted, it was time to tackle the little details—the bits that can make or break a build. These finishing touches may not be glamorous, but they’re the cherry on top of this very expensive cake.
Saddle: The Throne of Glory
For my saddle, there was only one contender: the Bjorn Setka. Why mess with perfection? At 130g of pure comfort, it’s been my trusty perch for years. It’s seen triumphs, struggles, and too many espresso stops to count. So, naturally, it graduated from the Canyon to the SL8 like an MVP. Some people try new saddles every season—I call those people reckless.
Bottle Cages: Lightweight Loyalty
Next up, the bottle cages. Again, I played favorites and brought over the 10g Topeak cages from my Canyon. These featherweight champs hold bottles like their lives depend on it—never floppy, never loose. If it ain’t broke, why fix it? They were perfect for my Canyon, and they’re perfect here.
Thru Axles: Because Aesthetics Matter
Now, the thru axles. Could I have stuck with the stock ones? Sure. Did I? Absolutely not. Instead, I went for Carbon Fibre Overfast thru axles—35g of pure bike porn. Do they improve performance? Not a bit. Do they make me faster? Only in the mirror. But do they look jaw-droppingly amazing? 100%. Worth every penny for the sheer joy they bring when someone asks, “Wait, are those carbon?”
Bar Tape: Back in Black
Finally, the pièce de résistance: bar tape. This decision could’ve gone wild—matching the frame, gold accents, something “custom.” Nope. I went with black. Simple, classic, flawless. Sometimes the best choice is the most obvious. The tape of choice? EXS from Panda Podium. Not only is it excellent, but the customer service at Panda Podium is chef’s kiss. I’ve spent way too many hours on their website for this build (and my last), and every second was worth it.
🛠 Next Up: The Grand Reveal
The wait is almost over. Next, I’ll showcase the SL8 in all its glorious, finely tuned, perfectly accessorized entirety. Stay tuned—it’s worth it.
With the big-ticket items sorted, it was time to tackle the little details—the bits that can make or break a build. These finishing touches may not be glamorous, but they’re the cherry on top of this very expensive cake.
Saddle: The Throne of Glory
For my saddle, there was only one contender: the Bjorn Setka. Why mess with perfection? At 130g of pure comfort, it’s been my trusty perch for years. It’s seen triumphs, struggles, and too many espresso stops to count. So, naturally, it graduated from the Canyon to the SL8 like an MVP. Some people try new saddles every season—I call those people reckless.
Bottle Cages: Lightweight Loyalty
Next up, the bottle cages. Again, I played favorites and brought over the 10g Topeak cages from my Canyon. These featherweight champs hold bottles like their lives depend on it—never floppy, never loose. If it ain’t broke, why fix it? They were perfect for my Canyon, and they’re perfect here.
Thru Axles: Because Aesthetics Matter
Now, the thru axles. Could I have stuck with the stock ones? Sure. Did I? Absolutely not. Instead, I went for Carbon Fibre Overfast thru axles—35g of pure bike porn. Do they improve performance? Not a bit. Do they make me faster? Only in the mirror. But do they look jaw-droppingly amazing? 100%. Worth every penny for the sheer joy they bring when someone asks, “Wait, are those carbon?”
Bar Tape: Back in Black
Finally, the pièce de résistance: bar tape. This decision could’ve gone wild—matching the frame, gold accents, something “custom.” Nope. I went with black. Simple, classic, flawless. Sometimes the best choice is the most obvious. The tape of choice? EXS from Panda Podium. Not only is it excellent, but the customer service at Panda Podium is chef’s kiss. I’ve spent way too many hours on their website for this build (and my last), and every second was worth it.
🛠 Next Up: The Grand Reveal
The wait is almost over. Next, I’ll showcase the SL8 in all its glorious, finely tuned, perfectly accessorized entirety. Stay tuned—it’s worth it.
The Grand Reveal: My Perfect (Imperfect) Bike
After what feels like an eternity of spreadsheeting, instagramming, forum trawling, online shopping, and outright obsessing, my SL8 is finally complete. Countless hours of my life have been spent weighing, measuring, and agonizing over every single component—hours I’ll never get back. But you know what? Totally worth it.
This is MY bike. It’s not a pure weight-weenie build. It’s not fully aero. It’s probably not perfect by anyone else’s standards. And you know what? That’s the point.
Every decision I made has been exactly that—my decision. For every person who loves my choices, there’s someone who’s shaking their head in disbelief, muttering, “Why didn’t they go with tan walls?” And honestly, I love that. What’s the point of building a bike if it doesn’t spark a little debate?
A Shoutout to the Forum Heroes
To everyone who has answered my endless questions, indulged my nitpicking, and stopped me from making some truly horrendous decisions: thank you. This community has been the real MVP of this build, guiding me through the minefield of options and reminding me why bikes are so much fun in the first place.
Now, It’s Your Turn
Got questions? Ask away. Want to steal some ideas? Be my guest. Think you can do better? Go for it—I dare you. Move the needle, try something bold, and most importantly, ride the hell out of your bike.
This SL8 is finally ready to hit the road, and so am I. Let’s ride.
A little side note...this is weight weenies after all. Including pedals, cages, computer and insta go360s mount, eufy tracker and mount, the weight is 6.5kg......enjoy.
After what feels like an eternity of spreadsheeting, instagramming, forum trawling, online shopping, and outright obsessing, my SL8 is finally complete. Countless hours of my life have been spent weighing, measuring, and agonizing over every single component—hours I’ll never get back. But you know what? Totally worth it.
This is MY bike. It’s not a pure weight-weenie build. It’s not fully aero. It’s probably not perfect by anyone else’s standards. And you know what? That’s the point.
Every decision I made has been exactly that—my decision. For every person who loves my choices, there’s someone who’s shaking their head in disbelief, muttering, “Why didn’t they go with tan walls?” And honestly, I love that. What’s the point of building a bike if it doesn’t spark a little debate?
A Shoutout to the Forum Heroes
To everyone who has answered my endless questions, indulged my nitpicking, and stopped me from making some truly horrendous decisions: thank you. This community has been the real MVP of this build, guiding me through the minefield of options and reminding me why bikes are so much fun in the first place.
Now, It’s Your Turn
Got questions? Ask away. Want to steal some ideas? Be my guest. Think you can do better? Go for it—I dare you. Move the needle, try something bold, and most importantly, ride the hell out of your bike.
This SL8 is finally ready to hit the road, and so am I. Let’s ride.
A little side note...this is weight weenies after all. Including pedals, cages, computer and insta go360s mount, eufy tracker and mount, the weight is 6.5kg......enjoy.
The Next Chapter: Things to Consider and Future Schemes
Just because the bike is finished doesn’t mean the tinkering stops. If you think this is truly the final version of my SL8, you don’t know me very well. Bikes are never done. They’re like puzzles with a few missing pieces—or in my case, puzzles where I keep swapping the pieces because I’m convinced I can make it better.
So, what’s next? Let’s dive into the list of “essential considerations” and future plans (a.k.a. the excuses I’m already cooking up to justify new purchases).
1. Is It Light Enough? (No, It Never Is)
Let’s be honest: is any bike ever truly light enough? Sure, it’s sitting at a respectable weight now, but I could still make it lighter with just a few well-placed swaps. For example, I could have replaced the stock fork expander plug with a Carbon-Ti masterpiece and saved a juicy 35 grams. But in the end, I just couldn’t be arsed with the faff of removing the old one and fiddling with yet another “precision installation.” Some battles aren’t worth fighting—this was one of them.
But wait, there’s hope for my weight-weenie credentials yet: I’ve got a Darimo carbon fiber seat post due any day now. A 300mm, 15mm offset work of art that’ll save me a solid 70–80 grams over the specialized anchor currently weighing down my SL8. It’s incoming, and I’m already preparing to bask in the smug glow of marginal gains as soon as it’s installed.
Could I have shaved more weight elsewhere? Definitely. Will I keep obsessing over these details for months to come? Absolutely. It’s a disease, and I love it.
2. Tubeless: A Never-Ending Debate
Let’s be honest, I probably will revisit the tubeless vs. clincher argument at some point. Every time I hear someone say “game-changer” about tubeless setups, I feel a twinge of doubt. Do I enjoy sealing punctures with unicorn tears? No. But could I convince myself to try it again? Possibly. Let’s see how long my back stays happy with TPU tubes before I cave.
3.Gold Decals… Could There Be More, or could they go completely?
The decals were a bold move, and let’s be real—they look amazing. But now I’m wondering if I should lean further into the bling. Gold bottle cage bolts? A custom headset cap? Gold valve caps? At what point does it go from tasteful to Liberace? I’m dangerously close to finding out, or do I go the other way, remove them and let the subtlety reign supreme.
5. The Eternal Search for More Aero
The SL8 is fast—obscenely fast. But the temptation to shave another watt off my aero drag is always lurking. A sleeker saddle bag? Integrated tools hidden inside the frame? Maybe I should just start shaving my legs twice a week instead of once. Marginal gains, people.
6. The Bigger Picture: Will I Ever Just Ride It?
This is the million-dollar question. I’ve spent months obsessing over every detail, but now that it’s done, will I spend more time riding it or staring at it? Hopefully both. After all, a bike like this deserves to be shown off—on the road, at the café, and definitely on Instagram.
The Moral of the Story
The SL8 may be “complete” for now, but the beauty of this hobby is that it never truly ends. There will always be tweaks to make, upgrades to dream about, and ridiculous experiments to try. That’s the fun of it.
Future plans? Ride the bike, love the bike, and occasionally fix what isn’t broken—because perfection is overrated, but having fun definitely isn’t. Stay tuned.
Just because the bike is finished doesn’t mean the tinkering stops. If you think this is truly the final version of my SL8, you don’t know me very well. Bikes are never done. They’re like puzzles with a few missing pieces—or in my case, puzzles where I keep swapping the pieces because I’m convinced I can make it better.
So, what’s next? Let’s dive into the list of “essential considerations” and future plans (a.k.a. the excuses I’m already cooking up to justify new purchases).
1. Is It Light Enough? (No, It Never Is)
Let’s be honest: is any bike ever truly light enough? Sure, it’s sitting at a respectable weight now, but I could still make it lighter with just a few well-placed swaps. For example, I could have replaced the stock fork expander plug with a Carbon-Ti masterpiece and saved a juicy 35 grams. But in the end, I just couldn’t be arsed with the faff of removing the old one and fiddling with yet another “precision installation.” Some battles aren’t worth fighting—this was one of them.
But wait, there’s hope for my weight-weenie credentials yet: I’ve got a Darimo carbon fiber seat post due any day now. A 300mm, 15mm offset work of art that’ll save me a solid 70–80 grams over the specialized anchor currently weighing down my SL8. It’s incoming, and I’m already preparing to bask in the smug glow of marginal gains as soon as it’s installed.
Could I have shaved more weight elsewhere? Definitely. Will I keep obsessing over these details for months to come? Absolutely. It’s a disease, and I love it.
2. Tubeless: A Never-Ending Debate
Let’s be honest, I probably will revisit the tubeless vs. clincher argument at some point. Every time I hear someone say “game-changer” about tubeless setups, I feel a twinge of doubt. Do I enjoy sealing punctures with unicorn tears? No. But could I convince myself to try it again? Possibly. Let’s see how long my back stays happy with TPU tubes before I cave.
3.Gold Decals… Could There Be More, or could they go completely?
The decals were a bold move, and let’s be real—they look amazing. But now I’m wondering if I should lean further into the bling. Gold bottle cage bolts? A custom headset cap? Gold valve caps? At what point does it go from tasteful to Liberace? I’m dangerously close to finding out, or do I go the other way, remove them and let the subtlety reign supreme.
5. The Eternal Search for More Aero
The SL8 is fast—obscenely fast. But the temptation to shave another watt off my aero drag is always lurking. A sleeker saddle bag? Integrated tools hidden inside the frame? Maybe I should just start shaving my legs twice a week instead of once. Marginal gains, people.
6. The Bigger Picture: Will I Ever Just Ride It?
This is the million-dollar question. I’ve spent months obsessing over every detail, but now that it’s done, will I spend more time riding it or staring at it? Hopefully both. After all, a bike like this deserves to be shown off—on the road, at the café, and definitely on Instagram.
The Moral of the Story
The SL8 may be “complete” for now, but the beauty of this hobby is that it never truly ends. There will always be tweaks to make, upgrades to dream about, and ridiculous experiments to try. That’s the fun of it.
Future plans? Ride the bike, love the bike, and occasionally fix what isn’t broken—because perfection is overrated, but having fun definitely isn’t. Stay tuned.
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