BAUM: Corretto
Darren Baum’s exquisite frame-building skill is apparent the moment you
lay eyes on the Corretto and take in the beautiful GT-R paint scheme
that extends hand-laid pinstriping from the frame to the stem and post.
But even with its beauty, I needed a few rides to fully appreciate its
way with the road.
While slugging my way up a local climb, another rider (on a Serotta Ottrott, no less) chased me down and wasted valuable breath to ask, “Who makes that bike?”
“Baum—a small handmade builder from Australia,” I replied in brief, for want of the breath required to delve into the specifics. Not that I needed to: the bike—to its rider and others—speaks for itself.
Darren Baum was a top-level roadie and dabbling framesmith in Geelong when a car accident left him with an injured spine. In recovery, he tried various geometries to compensate for the damage to his back—vacillating between steeper and slacker seat angles, gaining a deep understanding of how geometry affects handling. He opened his shop in 1996, and bases his designs on the understanding that steering comes from the interface between the rider and the saddle and pedals. These lessons helped him to craft a bike that proved to be a batshit descender.
Batshit? On one technical descent near Boulder, I regularly go as fast as 52 mph. On the Corretto, my Garmin recorded a top speed of 59 mph as the ti frame’s ride granted me incredible traction at the apex of each turn. I’ve never whipped faster through those switchbacks; not on aero bikes, not with a tailwind, not ever.
Achieving that kind of handling in a custom bike requires a leap of faith—you have to trust in both the builder’s skill with a torch, and in his ability to manipulate geometry—a rare alchemy that Baum possesses. Marin County’s Above Category shop is the U.S. importer. My order began with a long conversation with AC founder Chad Nordwall, after which I sent him basic measurements—my own and my bike’s.
For the Corretto (Italian for “correct”), Baum uses straight-gauge 3Al/2.5V seamless titanium tubes, which are then custom-butted to match the rider’s size, weight, and riding style. The chainstays are shaped for stiffness, coming to sharp, flattened points at the dropouts; the TIG welds feature delicate, precise scallops.
The bike is an ethereal climber, even better than its 15.3-pound weight would suggest. Low gearing helps, but the impressive blend of stiffness and comfort makes the bike a pleasure to point uphill, even when I’m not feeling my best. A great bike is not one that uses a strange fit to apologize for your balky back, or tries to disguise through technology that you don’t ride enough; it’s one that challenges and inspires you to improve. The Corretto is such a bike.
While slugging my way up a local climb, another rider (on a Serotta Ottrott, no less) chased me down and wasted valuable breath to ask, “Who makes that bike?”
“Baum—a small handmade builder from Australia,” I replied in brief, for want of the breath required to delve into the specifics. Not that I needed to: the bike—to its rider and others—speaks for itself.
Darren Baum was a top-level roadie and dabbling framesmith in Geelong when a car accident left him with an injured spine. In recovery, he tried various geometries to compensate for the damage to his back—vacillating between steeper and slacker seat angles, gaining a deep understanding of how geometry affects handling. He opened his shop in 1996, and bases his designs on the understanding that steering comes from the interface between the rider and the saddle and pedals. These lessons helped him to craft a bike that proved to be a batshit descender.
Batshit? On one technical descent near Boulder, I regularly go as fast as 52 mph. On the Corretto, my Garmin recorded a top speed of 59 mph as the ti frame’s ride granted me incredible traction at the apex of each turn. I’ve never whipped faster through those switchbacks; not on aero bikes, not with a tailwind, not ever.
Achieving that kind of handling in a custom bike requires a leap of faith—you have to trust in both the builder’s skill with a torch, and in his ability to manipulate geometry—a rare alchemy that Baum possesses. Marin County’s Above Category shop is the U.S. importer. My order began with a long conversation with AC founder Chad Nordwall, after which I sent him basic measurements—my own and my bike’s.
For the Corretto (Italian for “correct”), Baum uses straight-gauge 3Al/2.5V seamless titanium tubes, which are then custom-butted to match the rider’s size, weight, and riding style. The chainstays are shaped for stiffness, coming to sharp, flattened points at the dropouts; the TIG welds feature delicate, precise scallops.
The bike is an ethereal climber, even better than its 15.3-pound weight would suggest. Low gearing helps, but the impressive blend of stiffness and comfort makes the bike a pleasure to point uphill, even when I’m not feeling my best. A great bike is not one that uses a strange fit to apologize for your balky back, or tries to disguise through technology that you don’t ride enough; it’s one that challenges and inspires you to improve. The Corretto is such a bike.
Price: $16,000, as tested; $7,400, frame and fork
Weight: 15.3 lb.
Sizes: Custom
Frame: Butted 3Al/2.5V titanium
Fork: Enve 2.0 carbon fiber
Component Highlights: Campagnolo Super Record drivetrain and brakes; Enve Smart System 3.4 clincher wheels, seatpost, and stem; Zipp Service Course SL handlebar; Fi’zi:k Arione saddle; Vittoria Corsa EVO CX tires
