When two glaciers carve parallel valleys through the earth over eons, and if the valleys are close enough together, an arete is formed: a razor-edged blade of earth, mere feet and sometimes inches thick at its apex, with deadly drops of hundreds of feet on either side. It is smoke given form, change over eternity given expression - the ultimate symbol of nature's elemental power. The bicycling ind
ustry is dominated by companies - large and small, corporations or family traditions, they carve deep gouges across time and space. Often, there seems no space for anything more. But as these glaciers tear inexorably through fields and mountains in an attempt to level the earth, they themselves leave a knife-edge of ancient stone untouched. From the product and the waste of titans, we forge instruments, weapons, of terrible and breathtaking beauty, created with one purpose and one purpose alone - to bear their wielders up through the masses and to complete them as the masters of whatever discipline they hope to rule. We build racing bicycles, each one of a kind, just waiting to be found and claimed by their owners. Conquer the glaciers. Welcome to the Arête.
