1998 Trek Y-Foil 77

1998 Trek Y-Foil 77

In order to fully appreciate the Trek Y-Foil you must hold two radically different opinions in your head at the same time:

1. This is the coolest road bike you’ve ever seen.

2. This is the dorkiest road bike that you’ve ever seen.

Both of these opinions seem to be true, but neither one of them is really defensible.

If you take the position that the Y-Foil is the coolest ever, be prepared to judge it against a Colnago Bititan with its dual titanium downtubes and glorious paint, maybe Marco Pantani’s Tour de France-winning Bianchi, a Calfee road bike made out of Bamboo or a Renovo made out of wood.

On the other hand, a mid-summer charity bike ride can be an absolute showcase of nerdy contraptions, and somebody might actually have Cannondale’s version of the Y-foil (the 1996 Slice Z2000) or a custom painted Lotus that’s been outfitted with white disc wheels, a sheepskin saddle cover, rearview mirrors, phone holder and a handlebar-mounted stereo system. We bicyclists are a dorky bunch (as proven by how painstakingly I’ve written and rewritten the examples in these two paragraphs). Crowning the most dorktacular road bike would be tough!

Y-Foil

Y-Foil derailleur mount

Made in Wisconsin

Cinelli Frog stem

Let’s set our aesthetic judgements aside for a moment and examine the Y-Foil. Trek’s catalog and print advertisements laid the bike out in very basic terms: It was their aerodynamic bike, made possible by the use of OCLV (Optimum Compaction, Low Void) carbon fiber in the frame construction. Aerodynamic, but not a time-trial or triathlon bike. It had only a single spot for a small water-bottle, so really it was a road bike optimized for rides that were shorter than 40 miles.

This was a bold design for Trek to produce in 1998, and there are lots of custom elements here. The aforementioned water bottle had to have a special mount that would angle it up so it could slide out of the cage and not run into the back of the frame. The front derailleur bolted onto its own rigid arm since there was no seat tube where it would be fastened (drivetrains with only a single front chainring were rare in the ‘90’s, usually only found on custom cyclocross bikes). Even the fork was unique, the appearance of the extra-tall crown reminding me of high-waisted jeans. The extra tall crown meant that replacing the fork with something different would drop the front end by almost an inch and ruin the way that the bike steers.

Trek high-waisted fork crown

Tall fork, Front brake

Salsa Shaft seatpost

Zero Gravity / Camarillo brakes

The components on our bike continue to include some cool and dorky elements side by side.

Cool like Shimano’s reliable Dura-Ace 7700 group and Salsa’s Shaft seatpost. The Dura-Ace parts were light and precise, and they continue to work flawlessly after almost thirty years. The Salsa post makes saddle installation easy with one bolt to hold the seat in place and a separate bolt to adjust the tilt.

Dorky elements, as picked and installed by yours truly include Cinelli’s “Frog” stem, Specialized Tri-Spoke wheels and Camarillo’s Zero Gravity brake calipers.
The stem had to go with this bike as it was actually marketed for its frog-like appearance.
The Specialized wheels? They look sleek and I just can’t resist putting Trek bikes together with Specialized parts and vice-versa. The Trek and Specialized bicycle companies both loath each other so much that they harass shops that sell their bikes to drop the other brand…
Having the two big bike labels on the same machine feels like revenge to a bike nerd like me.

Lastly, Camarillo’s Zero Gravity brakes are some of the lightest, best-looking bicycle brakes ever made, and they stop really poorly. It’s unfortunate. Unlike the whole “Cool and Dorky” dichotomy, super-light and poor-functioning often go together.

By the way, there is a little bit more to this bike than meets the eye:  https://bikesnobnyc.com/2024/07/15/classic-cycle-thursdays-a-crooked-letter/