The Charge Grater 3 – not Helen Pidd's two-wheeled soul mate

Matthew Moggridge writes: Bikes are definitely getting more expensive. These days, when I walk into a bike shop to see what's on offer, even the most basic-looking machine seems to cost over £500 and sometimes I spy bikes with block brakes that are even more expensive. There are, of course, exceptions to the rule, like Apollo bikes and other lower cost brands, and while it is often said that you get what you pay for, some argue that a cheaper bike is not only better for you if fitness is your goal – heavier, lower spec machines mean you've got to put in more work – but enables you to add your own higher spec components at your own pace. Some would argue that 'a bike, is a bike, is a bike' and why spend a fortune on one?

The Charge Grater 3.

A couple of weeks ago I was wandering around Düsseldorf in Germany and while loitering outside the main railway station (on the quieter side, adjacent to the Leonardo Hotel on Ludwig Erhard Allee) I spied a rather good bike shop with some top-of-the-range machines going for 520 Euros. Now it might well be that the same bike in the UK would be far more expensive as these days you don't get much for your money if you've got just over £400 to spend. I doubt very much whether the bike I spied in the window in Düsseldorf would cost whatever 520 Euros works out to be in good old English pounds.

In this week's Guardian Weekend magazine, Helen Pidd was reviewing the Charge Grater 3 – a strange name for a bike in my opinion. Looking at the facts box at the bottom of the page I noticed that it costs a cool £549.99.

I don't know where Helen got that £549.99 price tag. Looking online this morning, they're much more expensive: £649 at Sunset Bikes; £749.99 at Cyclestore and Evans and also at Tredz Bikes, but only £467.49 from Wiggle.co.uk.

Well, at least it has disc brakes and high-spec Shimano Nexus 8 hub gears, and mudguards. I'm starting to realise the importance of the latter as avid readers of this blog will already know.

That aside, I don't think Helen was overly impressed. In fact she felt that the manufacturer spent all its money on the gears, claiming that normally a bike with Shimano Nexus hub gears would 'be significantly more expensive'. Hub gears in 'my day' – meaning my days as a kid – used to be Sturmey Archer. In fact I never had a bike with gears, just a single cog at the back. According to Helen the hub gear is ideal if you wish to ride to the office in work clothes as all the machinery is hidden away. That is a good point, although the Charge Grater 3 doesn't have a chain guard so what the manufacturer gives with one hand, it takes away with the other.

Helen says that the Charge Grater 'seems too good too to be true' and it's a little too pricey for what it is. Hub gears are a pain to fix, she says, and the bike she was given to test had faulty gears that kept slipping and the rear mudguard kept catching on the wheel – now that's annoying – and, she said, the handlebars looked cheap. Now I know what she means about that; I often take a long, hard look at a bike's handlebars and sometimes, yes, they do look kind of cheap and unimpressive and that will be enough for me to consider not buying it. Helen reckons that the manufacturer of the Charge Grater 3 spent all its money on the gears and had to settle for lower quality bars and other lesser components.

On the plus side, she said that the Charge Grater was very light, looked clean and modern and was light enough to lift on and off the Transpennine Express. The saddle was also comfortable – 'mega comfortable' – and it was a ladies' saddle (Helen says that 'far too many manufacturers think women won't notice if they whack on any old blokes' saddle'). The Charge Grater 3's saddle, she says, was shorter and wider and included a 'pressure releasing' channel 'to keep one's bits in working order'.

She wasn't keen on the 'skinny down tubes' and wasn't happy either with the wider-than-standard handlebars.

Helen summed up the Charge Grater 3 as being her 'two-wheeled soulmate' (a reference to her opening paragraph in which she compared the bike with a dating profile 'that promises more than a real-life human could ever deliver.

Helen Pidd can be followed on Twitter – @helenpidd

To read Helen's complete article, click here.

I love the Guardian's Q&A page in Weekend magazine...

I love Saturdays. Once I return from my early morning cycle, I nip down to the newsagent and buy the Guardian and then return home, sit in the conservatory and read Weekend magazine; it's the best! First, I read Tim Dowling's column, then I take a brief look at Your Pictures before reading the Q&A, possibly Experience (this week's 'I nearly died after eating wild mushrooms' was good) and then I switch to the back and read the excellent Snooping around column by Anna Timms; I love Wreck of the Week and often imagine myself buying some strange and remote cottage on the Northumberland coast. I can't be bothered with Blind Date, but I love Oliver Burkeman's This column will change your life and then I read the Review section of the newspaper – or rather, I give it a quick flick through, stopping, perhaps at Author Author or one of the main features. I have to admit that I am still mourning the loss of Writers' Rooms. Why was it discontinued? I loved reading about and looking at the rooms where accomplished writers write – so if anybody on the Guardian is reading this (which I doubt) please reinstate it.

The best feature is the Q&A and I've often sat there in my conservatory answering the questions myself and suddenly thought: what a great idea! I'll answer them for the blog and invite other readers to answer the same questions. So, here's my answers – email me yours and I'll publish them too.

When were you happiest?
On holiday in the seventies in Felpham, West Sussex. Mum and dad used to rent a house right on the beach and for some reason, the sun was always shining.
What is your earliest memory?
My younger brother Jon returning, newly born, from the maternity ward, concealing a toy train under his shawl for me: I was three years old.
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
A tendency towards laziness and just doing nothing.
What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Uncalled for stroppy behaviour.
What is your most treasured possession?
My Kona Scrap dirt jumper that I bought on a credit card in 2006 and haven't stopped riding since. My pal Andy has a Kona Blast and my brother Jon a Kona Fire Mountain so perhaps I should apply for a job as a salesman with Kona UK.
Where would you like to live?
In a house on the beach on the South Coast of England.
If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose?
My father-in-law, Norman Woodley.
Who would play you in the film of your life?
It's a toss-up between Kevin Spacey and Nicholas Cage. Although Andy Kaufmann would do a good job if he was still alive.
What is your favourite smell?
A freshly creosoted fence; the smell of hops from a pub doorway; and the sea.
What would be your fancy dress of choice?
I don't do fancy dress parties.
What is the worst thing anyone's said to you?
Once, many years ago, a man called David Peachell told me I had little going for me when I went to see him at a recruitment agency in, if I recall correctly, Liverpool Street in London.
What do you owe your parents?
Everything.
To whom would you most like to say sorry, and why?
Anybody I was obnoxious to after one too many beers.
What does love feel like?
The answer would, out of necessity, be too pretentious for words.
What was the best kiss of your life?
With my wife when she was my girlfriend, on a bus.
Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
Quite a lot of unsuitable expletives.
If you could edit your past, what would you change?
I'd go back and get a decent education – and I'd definitely go to university.
How often do you have sex?
I couldn't possibly comment.
What song would you liked played at your funeral?
Pop Music by M. "Mix me a Molotov!"
What is the most important lesson life has taught you?
Don't mess around at school.
Tell us a secret.
I can't, for obvious reasons.