Tested: Guerrilla Gravity Gnarvana | $5,300

These dudes aren’t Metal Mulisha, they’re tree-huggin’ hippies. Hippies that make bikes that, in fact, do like “goin’” fast. Take this bike here, the Gnarvana, Guerrilla Gravity’s longest-travel 29er. At 160 millimeters out back—coil sprung in this case—and 170 millimeters up front, it’s tailor-made for the company’s branding. There’s not much that’ll slow the thing down, including climbs. Let’s get that part of the review out of the way first, just like how I like my rides. Even without using the Fox DHX2 shock’s pedaling switch, the Gnarvana climbs with impressive efficiency, especially for a Horst-Link bike, traditionally not the most naturally efficient suspension platform. But it’s actually very good, on par with the current Specialized Enduro. The 76-degree seat angle is plenty steep, keeping the rider’s weight farther forward on climbs to prevent squatting. For my first ride on the Gnarvana, I unintentionally wound up on an all-day mission with several thousand more feet of climbing than I’d typically take a bike that looks like this one on, and I was pleasantly surprised the entire time. Even though, as-built, it weighed 34 pounds, a full 2 pounds heavier than my Enduro, I can honestly say that I didn’t notice it. With the shock in the firm position, it’s downright pleasant to climb on. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a big bike that is more accurately described as a respectable climber than an inspiring one, but that’s about the best you can ask for in this category. Geometry-wise, I found the Gnarvana very agreeable. The reach is neither too cramped nor too rangy for my taste, though it could be considered on the short side among bikes that have come out in the past year or so. It’s 470 millimeters in the middle size with the adjustable-length headset cups in the long position. Between the flip-chip style headset and three frame sizes, reach ranges from 435 to 500 millimeters. Despite the clever and well-designed flippy headset cups that change the reach by 10 millimeters, there’s still a potential compromise with having just one front end for every model. The Trail Pistol in the same size, for example, has an effective reach of 493 millimeters. I happen to like the way the bigger bike is shorter because it makes it feel more maneuverable, but it’s probably not everyone’s cup of tea. And for anyone thinking they might eventually transform their Guerrilla Gravity from one model to another, it’s an example of a restriction inherent to the one-front-end-fits-all philosophy. Another potential restriction could be frame stiffness.

I did notice that the front end is less stiff than my Enduro or any of the other long-travel 29ers I have ridden recently. It has a softer feel to it when rapidly changing direction. It didn’t bother me, but it was noticeable. In fact, it could be a positive attribute, adding to the bike’s comfort and agreeability. It’s not harsh and it didn’t knock me off line due to a complete lack of forgiveness. There’s real value in certain types of compliance. I actually hesitate even mentioning it because the concept has such a negative connotation. I don’t think it’s what “Grimy Handshake” columnist and overall bike industry legend Mike Ferrentino would describe as “waggly.” Five years ago it’d probably be considered stiff, and when it’s a 120-millimeter-travel Trail Pistol, for instance, front-end frame stiffness is on par with other bikes in the trail category. I suppose I only really bring it up because people who are sensitive to that kind of thing, like Ferrentino is, might appreciate the information. Getting back to the rest of the Gnarvana's geometry, I’m a fan, despite some numbers that I wouldn’t typically consider in my wheelhouse. Things like the sub-64-degree head angle and long 450-millimeter chainstays would seem to make the bike handle too slow for my taste, but they really didn’t. Shorter stays would indeed make the bike more playful, but that’s not what the Gnarvana is about. This is the bike you take on your scariest, fastest and steepest trails. That’s where it truly shines. The handling is precise yet forgiving. You pick lines for speed, not necessity. It goes where you need but loves holding a line. The suspension feels supported, even with the linear nature of the coil shock. It’s much more ground-huggy than poppy with the DHX2 shock, but with fast enough rebound it’s plenty lively. Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I dug the bike. It competes with some of the best, most popular long-travel 29ers. Then came the swap over to the Trail Pistol. There always seems to be some serious compromise with any Swiss-Army-style bike. A front triangle that has to cover so many models must have serious shortcomings, right? Wrong. Not in this case anyway, and this is about as extreme a change you can make. The Trail Pistol is a riot. It’s a capable, quick, lively little trail bike with a completely different demeanor than the Gnarvana. But, you know, also mostly the same bike. It’s a really cool feeling that I didn’t expect. It’s different but familiar at the same time. It’s the same touch points, with a whole new attitude.

The Trail Pistol built up 4 pounds lighter than the Gnarvana. Results will vary depending on how many parts you choose to swap. In this case, we did wheels and tires, fork, and shock, along with the seatstay kit needed to swap between models. All of Guerrilla Gravity’s seatstay kits go for $445 on top of whatever parts you change to make the shift, but keep in mind that depending on what models you’re going between, entirely different suspension may or may not be required. In this case however, it definitely was. I swapped the 170-millimeter Fox 38 for a 130-millimeter 34 and the 230x65 DHX2 shock for a 210x50 Float DPS. Wheels and tires weren’t totally necessary, but provided the lighter weight and snappy acceleration you really want out of a 120/130 29er. Swapping took me 50 minutes with wheels that were already ready to go. I have no idea how often people will utilize this swapping option. I think history shows that most people who buy multi-personality bikes tend to find what they want and leave it there. But this was quick and painless enough that if I were heading off on a trip to entirely different terrain, I’d for sure take the time to swap over. And personally, I think the dichotomy between these specific models makes swapping an even more attractive option. Going from the Gnarvana to, say, the Smash might not yield such dramatic results, however it’s potentially a more cost-effective swap, especially now that the DHX2 has adjustable stroke. But it isn’t all roses. I have some quibbles. I don’t love the cable cover they’ve made, or cable routing. I’d much rather see proper, fully tunneled internal routing. The dropper post cable having to run on the wrong side is especially irksome to my OCD sensibilities. So are the IS brake tabs, the fact these particular models use different derailleur hangers, and the funky water bottle placements. But the longer I had the bike, the more these quirks started becoming sort of endearing in a homemade, local bike manufacturer sort of way. So when the Trail Pistol seatstays had enough paint overspray that I had to remove it in order to get the flip chips in the slots, I didn’t get angry, I smiled. I commend Guerrilla Gravity for thinking outside the box and taking risks that, in my opinion they’ve pulled off very well. More carbon with less carbon footprint. That’s something we can all get behind.