Our die-hard, try-hard tester Guy Kesteven has picked Trek’s latest Top Fuel ‘Hunter Killer’ as the ideal, highly versatile, high velocity weapon for his ongoing E-bike scalping agenda.
Considering how many thousands of bikes I’ve ridden since my first bike test in MBR issue #3 in 1997, the fact that a pair of no-frills trail bikes can still make me genuinely giddy and excited for every ride is worthy of celebration, and the reason the Trek Top Fuel and Voodoo Canzo top my 2024 list of standout gear.
The Trek Top Fuel kept Guy firing on all cylinders this year.
Trek checks out with a double-Top
Like most bike launches in recent years, Trek’s latest ‘Gen 4’ Top Fuel isn’t a massive change from the previous bike. In fact, most of its ‘innovations’ simply sanction things you could already hack on the previous Gen 3 bikes. Being able to run the Top Fuel with 120mm travel front and rear, or up to 150mm front with a piggyback shock and 130mm at the rear, was already a thing I was seeing by riders willing to stretch the warranty. The small, but significant, geometry switch ’Mino Link’ chip meant 27.5in back wheels were being inserted to create ‘mullet’ set-ups too. Now, Trek has officially pushed these options to the fore as a factory-approved makeover. Having seen the positive reaction to versatility being a major marketing drive with Specialized’s Stumpjumper 15, Giant’s Trance, and other MTB families, I don’t blame Trek either.
Teo progression rates thanks to this new Mino-Link.
And I get why the Top Fuel isn’t living its potential best life in the up-cycled setting as default, even though I don’t agree with it. Selling the bike with 120mm rear and 130mm front makes the Trek MTB line-up look neater. It stops the Top Fuel encroaching on the 150/140mm Fuel EX in purpose and performance. It also glosses over the obvious lack of a properly-light, but progressively-capable Trek XC FS bike alongside the VERY race-specific Supercaliber.
The Top Fuel has piled on the pounds since the original bike was introduced, but it’s also got a lot more capable.
What I don’t get, is why it’s so damned expensive when everyone else has gone minimal on margins to try and compete with last year’s bikes being chopped out cheap. Props for Trek trying to protect its profits and those of its dealers though.
But hang on here, I’m telling you this is my favourite bike this year, yet I’ve spent the first 300 words explaining how it’s nothing really new, not sold in its best format and it’s expensive. And yes, there are tons of bikes that don’t flag up any of these issues, and the sensible ‘judged on stats and price’ advice would definitely be to pick one of those.
There’s no wheelie-bar on this Top Fuel dragster.
The thing I haven’t talked about yet though is ride, and here’s where the Fuel really does come out on Top. While the geometry and suspension kinematics are only slightly tweaked, the incremental adjustments perfectly match the evolution of the bike. Being half-a-degree slacker in the head angle, having longer rear centres, and a 6mm lower BB height let me push the Trek harder on descents and through turns. The seat tube is shortened to allow a longer dropper post. Half a degree steeper in the seat angle put me in a more aggressive position to exploit the 150g – 200g weight saving from the all-new frame construction, too.
The Top Fuel is laser-focussed on speed thrills.
If you’ve read or watched my reviews over the years, you’ll know I’m one of those lactic acid craving die-hards for whom climbing performance is still really important. The latest incarnation of Trek’s distinctive digressive tuning tastes in the shock rewards riders like me, who love the taste of blood in their ragged breath on climbs. So while the Top Fuel ABP suspension layout if fundamentally neutral and mobile, there’s more than enough support and snap through the pedals to keep any thoughts of surrendering to motor-assisted riding at bay for a while longer. Actually scratch that, with its low bar position keeping the nose nailed down on steep tech ascents, the Top Fuel is predatory enough to, not just hold off, but hunt down motability MTBs on a lot of trails if you’ve got the legs.
The reworked frame and geometry, and a smart (if relatively heavy) parts-pick, means it’s capable of carrying the chase onto serious descents too. Especially if you conduct the minor surgery required to extend the shock stroke to 55mm and open up its full 130mm travel potential. Even better, this doesn’t impact the pedalling performance, so you’ve got more traction and less speed choke over slap rocks and ruts without losing the lust for acceleration. If you find it slightly linear stock, like I did, then you can alter the progression of the shock from 14 to 19% in less than a minute by reversing the Mino Link. That gives more drive out of turns and backsides, as well as keeping the bike more tense, taut, and ready to rip the Bosch, Shimano and Brose bros a new one. And no I’m not counting TQ and Fazua here, because if you’re not already picking them off, then you need to raise your sights higher. But also, I didn’t list DJI, because I have some sort of realism to my generally delusional goals.
The Carbon Top Fuel shaves some much-needed grams and enhances the bike’s natural pace.
All the above is just what I found out in my time testing the TF9 alloy model, but since then I’ve been running my own custom build on the 2.7kg carbon-framed version. And while that’s definitely ‘heavy’ by race bike numbers, that’s an actual weight of a ready-to-ride chassis, not a claimed weight that’s missing stuff like axles, seat clamps, and possibly the whole shock. Oh yeah, they really do that, read the small print folks.
Trek’s refined its trail platforms over many iterations, without wholesale redesigns, and that tactic has paid off with the Top Fuel.
Anyway, as a result, the bike I’ve built up is much lighter than I expected at around 11.5kg with a shreddable spec. Switching to 140/130mm mode has actually saved a few grams (in lost travel spacers), but added significant speed and silliness-saving parenting when I push it too far. While I’m loving it in this set up – and I’m pretty sure it is the sweet spot for this frame – my old XC racer head is salivating for the new year. That’s the scheduled arrival of a RockShox SID collar and cuffs set-up, as well as some other SRAM family speed tech to mimic the machine raced by Evie Richards at some World Cups this season. Or maybe I’ll go the piggy-back shock, 150mm fork, and favourite big fat Schwalbe Rock Razor 27.5 x 2.6in rear rubber option first to see how rude I can make the Top Fuel.
Either way, it’s a bike that’s made the back half of my year a lot faster and more fun, and pissed off my regular riding mates in the process. I reckon the fact it has the potential to be so many different bikes goes a long way to excusing the high price of entry too. And if you can’t afford the Gen 4, then you can currently buy the Gen 3 for silly low money as the bike industry repositions itself from its current slogan – ‘survive until ’25’ – to ‘still sick in ’26’.
Putting together a bike this good, at this price, is nothing short of brilliant.
Voodoo’s can-do attitude brings high performance at low prices
While combing through geometry charts and back and forth emails checking compression tunes with designers are a crucial part of the bike testing process, it’s ultimately the emotions created by that engineering that matter most. That’s why I’m a huge fan of Voodoo’s can-do Canzo.
What you want more? OK, picture this. I’m cranking up onto some of my favourite enduro test trails on a bike you can buy from Halfords for just £1,350. OK ‘just’ £1,350 is still a lot of money in the grand scheme of things. But in this day and age it’s about the lowest you can spend on a new full-suspension bike and get something that not only rides well, but will survive the full send, DH-focused landscape MTB seems to have become for many people. Plus, it’s pretty much the same price as just the Push ElevenSix shock on the Privateer 161 I’m trotting around on. And 2.66 times less than the frame price of the Santa Cruz that’s leading my gang of riding buddies, just ahead of a Forbidden that costs around eight times what your local motoring superstore would want for the Voodoo. Think of how many car stereos, wax-and-wash kits, and vape flavoured air-fresheners that could buy you!
It’s not complicated, but in a world of increasing complexity, the Canzo’s simple thrills shine through.
Despite the comical fiscal disparity, I’m feeling quietly confident though; the tyre compound might be more Lego than Blu Tack, and when you pull them off – after inevitably puncturing the supplied inner tubes – you’ll find out they’re wire beard, not folding. They are Maxxis Forekaster’s though, and the harder compound and 29in sizing means they roll fast enough to offset the 16.5kg build. While I’m looking down at completely blank top caps, that tell me the fork is the very base spec, coil-sprung, RockShox 35 fork – which weighs the same as a Boxxer dual crown – it’s actually incredibly supple. Genuinely more supple than most £1,000 forks, due to the lack of air-spring seals and a super-simple rebound-only damping adjustment. The lack of an adjustable compression circuit on the open-tune RockShox rear shock, and a proper four-bar rear end, with free-moving bearings throughout, means the back end is outrageously fluid too. Again, not just for the money, but compared to any other bike I’ve tested this year. And I’m confident saying this as I rode an £11k rig on the same trails a few days later and genuinely felt like it was struggling to match the Voodoo in terms of suspension performance.
This purple fade paint job even looks boutique.
Rolling into the first long and rowdy descent, I initially backed off for fear of blowing the inner tubes on the random rocks littering the singletrack rut like SAM missiles on Maverick’s Top Gun run. Clocking that the rest of the crew still weren’t actually far ahead was enough to let go of the adequate base-model Shimano brakes and try and close in to combat range though. Now fast enough to, not only really bring home how smooth the suspension was, but also appreciate the totally-up-to-date progressive geometry that meant the inevitable tyre slips provoked grins rather than gritted-teeth terror. Going wide and letting it slide was enough to trigger the missile lock alerts on the bikes ahead, but in my Hollywood dogfight scenario, I was closing to gun range or going down trying. Watching the big bike pilots hammering desperately on the pedals as the cheap Forekasters devoured the remaining gap to their slow-rolling, sticky rubber on the flatter mid-section was nothing short of a euphoric experience. Heckling one mate about the fact his 170mm travel Fox Factory 38s seemed to be struggling against my RockShox 35s (that were only getting 110mm, tops, with my weight on). Spitting out sideways onto the track at the bottom totally drunk on underdog have-a-go-hero mojo.
Laying the power down and keeping up with mates on way more expensive machines was cat-nip to our Guy.
And it’s been the same on every ride since. Genuinely laughing and whooping out loud at not having to worry about the usual multiple damper dial and pressure settings, and just totally losing myself in the ride instead. Not even concerned about the shorter-than-advertised travel because, for an average weight rider, it’ll be fine, and the smoothness of that first 110mm is sublime. Happy to ignore the fact the rudimentary damping definitely gets a bit delirious and random after a minute or more of proper flat-out hammer, because, by that point I’m borderline hysterical at the comedy overachievement of the Canzo anyway. I’ve got the dropper post that’s now standard on all bikes since the launch too, so I don’t have to worry about dropping the seat by hand. But then I didn’t really mind that anyway either, because it set up the whole ‘knife in a gun fight’ vibe perfectly, and I’m old enough to remember how to raise and lower saddles accurately with them clenched between my thighs.
Supple suspension encouraged Guy to open up the taps.
But crucially I’m also old enough to remember when cheap bikes were just a throwaway commodity. Obsolete geometry, soggy suspension, catalogue frames, with time-bomb shocks full of swarf, that were botched into bikes without due care and attention at the last minute by designers who only invested test time in top-end machines. However, the Canzo has fully progressive geometry, custom to Voodoo. It rides great because the components – and alternatives – have all been tested and then tuned to suit the bike and ride intent. It also has excellent ‘insight’ details, like sound-muffling sleeves on the internal cables, as well as a UDH rear dropout for easy, long-term servicing. Best of all, while I’ve picked the Canzo as it’s the best entry price example, it’s one of several excellent sub-£2,000 options such as Calibre’s new Bossnut and the Boardman MTR. Excellent because they’ve been designed, equipped, and developed with as much – if not more – passion and expertise as most bikes multiple times their price.
7Mesh’s Spruce Hoody stood out in a sea of mediocre (expensive) waterproofs.
7 Mesh Spruce WTV200 jacket
Put simply, the Spruce – and the other gear in 7Mesh’s WTV200 fabric range – actually finally delivers the performance that so many other products have promised and failed on. By that I mean, in real terms, you’re likely to stay as dry in the rain as every ‘waterproof’ I’ve tested. Well maybe apart from Gore Shake Dry. But that was a) too fragile to ever go near a bush, and b) a coalition of Germans and dolphins have made it illegal. Anyway, by the time a bit of water has seeped through the close-knitted face fabric you’ll be as damp as you would be from the build-up of sweat from a waterproof. Especially as that Deutsch dolphin combo has also made effective PFC water-repellent treatments so the ‘breathable’ membrane will be sat under a drowned outer fabric in a few minutes.
The hooded version has a more MTB-vibe.
The difference is that you won’t be sweating half as much in the times when it’s not raining, and it wicks and dries super-fast if you do get wet. Plus its lighter and quieter, with windchill-killing performance that keeps it remarkably warm for its weight. Oh, and despite the fact it’s from premium brand 7Mesh, it’s actually great value, seeing as I reckon you’ll wear nothing else once you’ve got it. And if you don’t want the XC/Gravel back-pocket-jacket vibe of the Spruce jacket, get the anorak-style Hoody. Sorted.
Specialized’s Genie shock does what it says on the can.
Specialized/Fox Genie shock
This Specialized-developed exclusive colab with Fox just looks like a fat can air-shock from the outside. It’s actually a fat double can though, because Genie is a suspension feel magician. OK, so it hasn’t got a spout, and you don’t rub it like a lamp, but unpicking the circlip and sliding the outer sleeve back reveals up to five volume spacers. Adding or removing these clip-on spacers literally takes seconds and completely changes the progression of the first two thirds (or something like that) of the shock stroke.
Tuning the air volume of the inner and outer chamber gives the opportunity to really customise the spring curve.
Stick all five in and you’ve basically got a conventional mid-volume air shock with a pretty firm, efficient feel and plenty of mid-stroke support and relatively linear overall feel. Take them all out and you’ve got the super plush top-to-mid feel of a coil spring, but then a ramp-up for the last third to stop slam landings snapping your teeth together. That adds a whole extra level of ride feel adjustment to a new Stumpjumper 15 that already lets you tweak the geo from DH slack to down-country pert. The piggyback damper Genie shock Spesh has now added to the Turbo Levo SL will please all the people who got sad at the lack of implied sendiness of the inline design used on the Stumpjumber too.
Guy’s blend of XCR levers and Pro E4 calipers gave him the best of both worlds.
After years of old designs blowing up forearms faster than they slowed you down, Hope has jumped back to the top of my braking chart with the Tech 4 E4 brakes a couple of years ago. Not everyone needs the big lever bulk, and agriculturally-prominent bite-point adjust of the Tech 4 lever, though. As a rider with a bad brake-dragging habit, who loves running minimal rear tyre tread, I don’t need the 15% power bump that lever added over the old Tech 3.
A little burlier than your average XC brake, while keeping it minimal.
Which means I was stoked when Hope finally paired its super-clean, carbon-blade XCR XC brake lever with the E4 caliper this year. The result isn’t crazy-powerful like SRAM’s new Maven, and it’s a lot more expensive than the CNC brakes from breakthrough-brand Lewis. It’s got a superbly-modulated feel at the bar though, doesn’t cook like the XCR Pro X2 can on long descents, and you get all the multiple anodised colour options and ‘handmade in the Pennines’ factory or event support that’s made Hope a household MTB name in the UK for 35 years.