Jota & Moreno. Two words that meant nothing to me a couple of months ago. I’m not sure where the name originates from, what it means to the lads at Babici, or what it should mean to the rest of us. In short, who cares?
I had the pleasure of building one of these ‘Jota’s’ up from the ground, fly to France, ride it through the Alps and write about it. The frame had caught my eye quite a few months ago now, on the set of Babici’s cheeky ‘viral’ ad in which I made a forgettable cameo. It’s livery had really pleased my eyes, and soon enough I’d placed an order.
Knowing next to nothing about it’s ride qualities, I was quite possibly ordering a sheep in wolves clothing. I’m never one to shy away from admitting that the way a bike presents is a sizeable influence in my decision whether or not I’ll buy it. Unless I’m riding for a team and being afforded a bike by my sponsors, (an impossible scenario for a weekend warrior like me who has none) then why should I ride something that’s less than visually fantastic?
Of course, the bike’s got to have some game to back the looks up. There’s got to be some heart, some soul to keep you coming back after that initial lust dies a little. The Jota ain’t no sheep. The Jota ain’t no wolf. It’s nestled in a very nice postcode between the two. This is not a frame which harbours the predatory instincts of the wolf. It’s only possible connotations with the sheep ends after the first two letters of the makers name. Comfortable, predictable, responsive, without the unbridled friskyness and nervousness of many of the purebreds on the market today. So what sort of creature fits the bill there? It was just what I needed for stints between 3 and 8 hours in the alps, day after day after day after day.
My Jota was pieced together with a modest to quasi bling build. The groupset comprised a mix of Sram Red and Force. It rolled on the not-that-feathery Shimano RS 80 wheels. Components were all 3T team (carbon, but not the weenie approved LTD edition). This rider’s undercarriage was perched atop a Prologo Scratch Nack, in which I think I have finally found my saddle. Call off the search! Pedals were Look Keo 2 Carbon Max and the computer was a Garmin 800. As stated, it came in at a respectable 7.5kg. Throw in a few tubes, tyre levers, saddle bag, multi tool, pump and often an SLR camera slung over the back and the dead weight of the bike was not a calculation that was ever near the front of mind. Even with my extravagant payload, armed with the right gearing for the terrain, I always felt the bike to be responsive to the demands I was sending through the bottom bracket. On the rides where I ditched the SLR camera in favour of the Canon ‘point and shoot’, I really got to know how this bike performed in such mythical terrain.  The answer being admirably!
I love a bike that climbs well. My other bike is a Cervelo R3. I need not go into the weenie credentials or testemonials to it’s climbing ability. Everyone knows it’s a damn fine bike to go uphill on and a pretty good benchmark for the Jota Moreno to be tested against. Firstly and not surprinsingly when you look at the beefy bottom bracket region, this thing feels nice and stiff. Perhaps I’ve read too many bike reviews in my time and the cliche’s are contagious, but I didn’t feel I was losing any power, it was all going to down to the road.  It cannot claim to possess the sheer zap of the R3, but it doesn’t fall too far short.
There were occasions on my trip where I was not merely content to allow my eyes to gorge on the amazing scenery. There were days where I really wanted to rip into the climbs. I admit, these days were more scarce than the scenery gorging days, and by ‘ripping in’, it’s safe to surmise I mean ‘going extremely slowly up these climbs as fast as I possibly can’. On these occasions, I was never left aching for my slightly lighter bike back home. I in fact enjoyed these efforts immensely. My assault on the Galibier from Valloire was one of these efforts and a day I’ll never forget. Alpe d’Huez, Madeleine, Croix de Fer, Glandon, Lauteret, Telegraphe.. the list goes on. The Jota took care of business.
So we’ve so far established that the Jota, due to it’s apparently stiff bottom bracket (where’s that testing jig?) and respectable weight goes uphill in an above satisfactorily matter. However, the true quality of this frame in my opinion, is just how comfortable it is. I could ride this thing all day. I damn near did a few times. My Jota is now my steed of choice for extended sittings on the saddle. She will get to know the Royal National Park of Southern Sydney intimately. She will be a tender companion for future sportive’s.
While my other bike is marketed as a pretty damn comfy bike, ‘cos they won Roubaix on it ay’, it’s still an out and out race bike. Aggressive, a lot of fun, but after 6 hrs pedalling, ultimately a little less appeasing an option when the Jota is also in the garage.
This is a damn good frame which built up to a mighty nice bike. Back home now and France is becoming more and more just a memory, aided by some photos I shall treasure. The days back here are getting longer and the temperatures warmer. A long summer and many kilometres await. Plenty of these will be covered on the Jota.
Jota & Moreno. Still not sure what it really means!
Luke Whittemore. Cycling enthusiast.Â
