Discover the Repairable Mountain Bike Derailleur
The collision happened one afternoon somewhere in the Oregon Cascades. Nothing spectacular. Just Aaron Bland and his mountain bike having a minor disagreement with gravity on a trail outside Ashland, Oregon. When everything settled, his $600 SRAM AXS derailleur looked fine but shifted like arthritic fingers. The replacement would be identical, engineered with the same fundamental flaw: when it breaks, you throw it away.
Most riders would shrug and reach for their wallets. Bland reached for his toolbox.
In his workshop, surrounded by the detritus of modern mountain bike engineering, Bland began asking uncomfortable questions. Why should a mechanical device worth more than some people’s rent become garbage after a minor trail incident? Why couldn’t aerospace-grade materials be rebuilt rather than replaced?
The answers led him to create Madrone Cycles, named after the tough, adaptable trees that cling to Southern Oregon’s hillsides. Sometimes the most radical act is simply refusing to accept that things can’t be fixed.
The Culture of Disposability
Modern mountain bike derailleurs have become triumphs of planned obsolescence wrapped in the language of innovation. Shimano and SRAM perfected components that shift with otherworldly precision while remaining fundamentally unrepairable. When a parallelogram link snaps or a pivot wears out, the entire derailleur becomes an expensive paperweight. This isn’t accidental engineering; it’s business strategy disguised as progress.
Bland’s first product wasn’t revolutionary in concept, just execution. His Missing Links rebuild kit for SRAM derailleurs contained parallelogram links, bushings, shims, and custom 3D-printed tools. Simple components that transformed throwaway culture into repair culture, one Allen key at a time. The cycling industry took notice, not because the concept was complex, but because no one had bothered to do it before.
Engineering Rebellion
By early 2024, Bland began sketching what would become the Jab derailleur. Named after Ashland’s Jabberwocky trail, it emerged from frustrations with both SRAM and Shimano’s disposable approach to mechanical shifting. The goal wasn’t to reinvent the derailleur so much as to remember what it was supposed to be: a mechanical device that moves a chain across gears, not disposable consumer electronics.
The development process reads like a master class in iterative engineering. Version one at Sea Otter 2024 featured ball-bearing pivots, carbon fiber cages, and hydraulic clutches. Sophisticated, complex, and entirely missing the point. Version two simplified everything, eliminated carbon fiber, and took an overbuilt approach to pivot design. Better, but still too heavy.
Version three arrived in November 2024 as the final prototype. CNC machining replaced cast components, tolerances tightened, and bushing pivots replaced ball bearings. Each iteration moved closer to the original vision: function over flash, durability over weight savings.
Version four hit reality in early 2025. Plastic shortages, tariff complications, anodizing flaws, and quality control headaches pushed launch from spring to summer. The delays reinforced the company’s commitment to getting things right rather than rushing to market.
The Mechanics of Simplicity
The finished Jab embodies a different philosophy than its mainstream competitors. Where Shimano and SRAM chase marginal gains through complexity, Madrone pursues reliability through simplicity. The derailleur is machined from 6061 and 7075 aluminum rather than cast or molded, creating components that can be rebuilt indefinitely.
Basic tools can rebuild the entire mechanism, or customers can send their derailleurs back for an $85 flat-rate rebuild service. Spare parts will be available separately, turning routine maintenance from expensive nightmare into weekend project.
Compatibility spans 9 to 12-speed drivetrains across mountain bike and gravel setups. Multiple cam options accommodate different manufacturers’ cable pull ratios, while cage lengths handle everything from single-speed conversions to wide-range cassettes. Universal Derailleur Hanger mounting ensures compatibility with virtually any frame.
The clutch design reveals Madrone’s practical approach to patent navigation. Rather than license expensive technology, Bland developed a ratchet-style clutch with built-in lag that provides chain control without triggering intellectual property disputes. Later versions feature a bi-directional friction clutch with adjustable tension, allowing riders to fine-tune performance based on conditions.
At 275 grams for the long-cage version, the Jab balances weight and durability. The $298 price undercuts premium mechanical derailleurs while offering significantly more serviceability. This isn’t positioning by accident; it’s a deliberate challenge to the industry’s assumption that riders will pay more for less control over their equipment.
Beyond the Workshop
The Jab’s significance extends into broader questions about ownership, repair rights, and environmental responsibility. In an industry obsessed with wireless everything and sealed systems, Madrone’s mechanical approach feels subversive. Cable actuation preserves the direct connection between rider input and mechanical response that electronic systems abstract away.
The environmental stance isn’t greenwashing; it’s fundamental to the business model. Aluminum components can be recycled indefinitely, while composite plastics become hazardous waste. Rebuilding extends component lifespan without the energy costs of manufacturing replacements.
The right-to-repair ethos challenges assumptions about user competence that pervade modern cycling. Manufacturers claim sealed systems protect consumers from mechanical ineptitude, but this conveniently ignores cyclists’ demonstrated ability to maintain complex suspension systems, disc brakes, and tubeless setups that would have been considered professional-only maintenance decades ago.
Market Position and Industry Response
Madrone’s challenge comes at an interesting moment in mountain bike history. Electronic shifting captures mindshare and marketing budgets, but mechanical systems dominate actual sales. Battery anxiety, complexity concerns, and cost keep many riders committed to cables and springs. The Jab positions itself in this mechanical mainstream, offering premium performance without electronic complications.
The major manufacturers’ response has been predictably muted. Built around component replacement rather than repair, acknowledging Madrone’s approach would undermine decades of market conditioning. Instead, they continue pushing electronic integration while quietly improving mechanical serviceability.
Independent mechanics and small bike shops represent Madrone’s natural market. These businesses built reputations on keeping bikes running rather than selling new components, and the Jab’s serviceability aligns with their interests. Early adopters report positive experiences, though the sample size remains limited. More significant than individual testimonials is the broader conversation about ownership, repairability, and component development direction.
The Road Ahead
Future plans look ambitious. Lower-cost tooled versions could make rebuildable derailleurs accessible to budget-conscious riders, while 2x and 3x compatibility would expand the addressable market. The company hints at other drivetrain components designed around the same serviceability principles.
The industry faces increasing pressure around sustainability and right-to-repair legislation, trends favoring Madrone’s approach over traditional planned obsolescence. European regulations already require extended repair support, while American states consider similar requirements. Mountain bike companies dismissing repairability as niche might find themselves scrambling to adapt to regulatory requirements Madrone already meets.
Competition seems inevitable if the Jab proves successful. Other small manufacturers might pursue similar approaches, while major companies could develop serviceable alternatives. This represents exactly what Madrone hopes to achieve: forcing the industry to consider repairability as core design criterion rather than afterthought.
When Fixing Becomes Revolutionary
I envision that back in the Ashland workshop where this story began, the bent SRAM derailleur still sits on a shelf. It’s not broken anymore, rebuilt with Madrone’s repair kit into something functionally identical to its original form. The transformation seems mundane until you consider how radical the act of repair has become in a culture designed around replacement.
The Jab represents more than improved mechanical engineering; it embodies a different relationship between riders and their equipment. Instead of helpless consumers dependent on corporate service intervals, cyclists become partners in maintaining their bikes. This shift from consumption to collaboration challenges fundamental assumptions about technical complexity and corporate responsibility.
Whether Madrone becomes the next great drivetrain company or remains a boutique alternative matters less than the questions they’re forcing the industry to answer. In a world where everything else is getting more complex, expensive, and disposable, sometimes the most revolutionary act is building something simple, affordable, and designed to last. One rebuild, one rider, one trail at a time.
