RaGe_Raptor
15/05/2014, 09:58
Reverse Engineering – How are aftermarket parts nicer than original stuff?
Posted on May 14, 2014 by Chris — No Comments ↓
How come tiny aftermarket firms can make a nicer set of rearsets than bike manufacturers supply as standard? We headed to the LighTech factory in Italy to try and find out.
Mmm, shiny.
LighTech are one of many small European firms manufacturing aftermarket parts for our bikes. Without the resource or backing of the original manufacturer, they’re making stunning aftermarket components that offer something more than the original components. It can be adjustability, improved looks or even better crash protection, but either way, you’re getting something that you feel makes your bike better. So why don’t the manufacturers do a better job as standard and how do companies like LighTech make stuff that fits properly and works on such a short time scale?
Bike manufacturers spend millions of pounds and thousands of man-hours developing new models. They have whole buildings full of engineers all beavering away on CAD (Computer Aided Design) machines fretting over fractions of millimeters and arguing with the felt-tip fairies (stylists) for changing seemingly irrelevant dimensions. Test riders will ride hundreds of thousands of miles in all conditions, reporting all the time to a man with a note pad who’ll take down measurements and observations before scurrying back to the safety of his computer. New bikes will be cut to pieces and analysed like some tacky sci-fi alien abduction scene long before we’ve even seen a spy shot or carefully drip-fed concept images. By the time some lucky bugger like me gets to ride one at a press launch, similar bikes will have been to hell and back, with no thanks other than being stripped to pieces and cut up for further inspection.
And then, within weeks of the first full-production bikes landing in shops, there will be catalogues full of aftermarket parts available to customize them. Those standard footrest hangers are ripped off and replaced with machined aftermarket rearsets. Some poor bugger spent weeks on a computer, analysing, improving, then arguing with stylists, suppliers and purchasing departments only for the fruits of his labour to be tossed in a box and replaced with something built in a tiny factory in Italy, entirely separate from the original manufacturer. Something beautifully designed, exquisitely machined and impeccably finished that makes you almost as excited as you were when you bought the bike in the first place.
So how does it happen?
This is the process LighTech go through when designing new rearsets for a bike.
Step 1 – Keep your scanners peeled
But not in the way you or I are thinking. Back when computers were just annoying boxes that promised to make life easier but did quite the opposite, the only viable route for the aftermarket manufacturer was to get out his ruler and get measuring. Now computers have given in and decided to be helpful, the measuring process can be fully automated and far more accurate. LighTech use a 3D scanner to measure components or entire sections of bikes, generating scan data accurate to 0.01mm. So for rearsets, in addition to scanning the mounting points, scans are taken of the original components for reference and the surrounding components to check for any potential clearance issues.
Step 2 – Start a modeling career
The scan data is then imported into a CAD program, where the 3D models of the final components will be generated. Essentially the scanned surfaces are used as a constant reference to check fitment and clearance of the new components – like a digital version of building a cardboard model and offering it up to the bike. This takes the guesswork out of the design process, giving engineers a nice warm fuzzy feeling, bless them. At this stage the stylist, who’s responsible for making things look all pretty, will work very closely with the engineer, who’s responsible for making things work and fit. What this usually boils down to can be likened to a couple of kids squabbling about which way round their toy cars should be parked. One wants them all in a neat line, in size order, the other wants to put all the red cars together, parked at jaunty angles.
Posted on May 14, 2014 by Chris — No Comments ↓
How come tiny aftermarket firms can make a nicer set of rearsets than bike manufacturers supply as standard? We headed to the LighTech factory in Italy to try and find out.
Mmm, shiny.
LighTech are one of many small European firms manufacturing aftermarket parts for our bikes. Without the resource or backing of the original manufacturer, they’re making stunning aftermarket components that offer something more than the original components. It can be adjustability, improved looks or even better crash protection, but either way, you’re getting something that you feel makes your bike better. So why don’t the manufacturers do a better job as standard and how do companies like LighTech make stuff that fits properly and works on such a short time scale?
Bike manufacturers spend millions of pounds and thousands of man-hours developing new models. They have whole buildings full of engineers all beavering away on CAD (Computer Aided Design) machines fretting over fractions of millimeters and arguing with the felt-tip fairies (stylists) for changing seemingly irrelevant dimensions. Test riders will ride hundreds of thousands of miles in all conditions, reporting all the time to a man with a note pad who’ll take down measurements and observations before scurrying back to the safety of his computer. New bikes will be cut to pieces and analysed like some tacky sci-fi alien abduction scene long before we’ve even seen a spy shot or carefully drip-fed concept images. By the time some lucky bugger like me gets to ride one at a press launch, similar bikes will have been to hell and back, with no thanks other than being stripped to pieces and cut up for further inspection.
And then, within weeks of the first full-production bikes landing in shops, there will be catalogues full of aftermarket parts available to customize them. Those standard footrest hangers are ripped off and replaced with machined aftermarket rearsets. Some poor bugger spent weeks on a computer, analysing, improving, then arguing with stylists, suppliers and purchasing departments only for the fruits of his labour to be tossed in a box and replaced with something built in a tiny factory in Italy, entirely separate from the original manufacturer. Something beautifully designed, exquisitely machined and impeccably finished that makes you almost as excited as you were when you bought the bike in the first place.
So how does it happen?
This is the process LighTech go through when designing new rearsets for a bike.
Step 1 – Keep your scanners peeled
But not in the way you or I are thinking. Back when computers were just annoying boxes that promised to make life easier but did quite the opposite, the only viable route for the aftermarket manufacturer was to get out his ruler and get measuring. Now computers have given in and decided to be helpful, the measuring process can be fully automated and far more accurate. LighTech use a 3D scanner to measure components or entire sections of bikes, generating scan data accurate to 0.01mm. So for rearsets, in addition to scanning the mounting points, scans are taken of the original components for reference and the surrounding components to check for any potential clearance issues.
Step 2 – Start a modeling career
The scan data is then imported into a CAD program, where the 3D models of the final components will be generated. Essentially the scanned surfaces are used as a constant reference to check fitment and clearance of the new components – like a digital version of building a cardboard model and offering it up to the bike. This takes the guesswork out of the design process, giving engineers a nice warm fuzzy feeling, bless them. At this stage the stylist, who’s responsible for making things look all pretty, will work very closely with the engineer, who’s responsible for making things work and fit. What this usually boils down to can be likened to a couple of kids squabbling about which way round their toy cars should be parked. One wants them all in a neat line, in size order, the other wants to put all the red cars together, parked at jaunty angles.