Lights

Comments

Tech features

Joy Rides: A retro-modern Cannondale Beast of the East 

Høj Lab shares his latest restoration of an old classic.

Jake Hoj
by Jake Hoj 10.01.2025 Photography by
Jake Hoj More from Jake +

In this edition of Joy Rides, Jake Hoj (“Hoy”), aka @hoj_lab on Instagram, writes about his latest restoration. This time, it’s a classic Cannondale Beast of the East mountain bike that’s been given a new lease of life as a drop-bar thumper.

Before Jake takes over, it’s worth noting that Escape’s own Iain Treloar recently took ownership of a similar M800 Beast of the East, something he said is “now cooler simply by association to Jake’s creation.” For more on the 26″-wheeled revival, check out Iain’s article.

OK, over to Jake!


This past November I stumbled upon a listing for a 1996 Cannondale M800 “Beast of the East” complete bicycle in rural Virginia. From the few photos provided in the ad I could tell that the bike was almost entirely stock. A quick chat with the seller revealed that it had been hanging in the same garage with little use since it was purchased new back in the mid-’90s. 

Aside from a few cosmetic paint chips, a missing skewer, and a dusty chain, the bike was in excellent condition – no dents, dings, or signs of corrosion which can often plague these older Cannondale frames left to languish in forgotten corners of garages. In other words, the bike was a gem, waiting to be uncovered some 30 years later by a guy who spends way too much of his free time on Facebook Marketplace and whose family insists he already owns too many Cannondales. 

The geometry on these Beast of the East frames from back in the day is unique. For example, the bottom bracket drop is more of a bottom bracket rise, and sits roughly 13″ / 33 cm (!) off the ground. But what caught my eye the most about this particular frame was the relatively rare straight-leg P-Bone fork that Cannondale featured on a handful of its MTB frames during the 1996-1997 seasons before switching to the curved-blade Pepperoni fork.

Oh, and there’s also the absolutely massive head tube. The for-sale ad showed the size of the frame as 22” (56 cm), which sounds reasonable until you remember that the geometry of this bike puts 22” at the complete upper end of the size chart and assumes a rider height well north of 6 ft (183 cm) … which sadly I am not, despite my best efforts.

A whole lot of head tube.

Still, I couldn’t shake the thought that I could get it to work – after all, mountain bike geometry from the ’90s generally assumed the use of much longer stems than what is standard today. After some quick math and tinkering with the geometry numbers, I realized I could actually replicate my standard 56 cm road and gravel fit coordinates simply by opting for a more-modern 60 mm stem and a zero-setback seatpost.

With that, I arranged a time to pick up the bike, and before I knew it there was yet another Cannondale sitting in my home workshop, anxiously awaiting the start of a new chapter.

How to build the thing

Then came the big question: what in the world do you spec on a 1996 Cannondale Beast of the East gravel restomod? It’s got 26” wheels with cantilever brakes, after all. Do they even make those anymore? Can cantilever brakes actually stop a moving bicycle in the year 2025? No one actually knows, and ChatGPT was noncommittal in its answer.

With help from eBay, a few Instagram followers, and a polishing wheel, I began assembling a parts list that eventually came together better than I could have hoped. 

First, I used oven cleaner to strip off the anodizing on a set of SRAM Rival crankarms, a Ritchey 4-Axis stem, and a set of Ritchey Comp Beacon handlebars, then I spent an unhealthy amount of time polishing them to a mirror-like finish. The 42T 1x narrow-wide chainring, sourced from AliExpress, also got the oven cleaner treatment. To complement the DIY silver parts, I spec’d the rest of the bike with a factory-polished Ritchey Classic seatpost, a SRAM Rival CX rear derailleur, and an 11-42T cassette from Sensah. 

Some silver pieces could be purchased; others I had to make.

To complete the drivetrain, I opted for a set of silver 11-speed Sensah Empire mechanical shifters, which I debadged with acetone for a clean, understated look. These shifters have been one of the biggest surprises of this entire build.

For those unaware, their shifting mechanism operates similarly to SRAM’s DoubleTap system, but the shifter blade also serves as the brake lever, similar to Shimano’s design. In other words, a single lever handles both upshifts, downshifts, and braking.

So far, shifting has been flawless, and braking feels solid. While the jury is still out on long-term durability, the initial quality appears every bit as good as the mechanical 11-speed Ultegra shifters I abused for years across multiple bikes and thousands of miles. Given their performance so far – and the fact that the entire set (front and rear) cost just US$56 shipped from China – the value is absolutely bonkers.

For stoppers, I sourced a combo set of raw silver Paul Neo-Retro (front) and Touring (rear) cantilever brakes. After some initial fiddling, I am happy to report that cantilever brakes not only stop a moving bicycle in the year 2025, but they still look amazing while doing it.

Timeless brakes.

The wheels are built from Velocity Cliffhanger 26” 36h rims laced to Shimano T3000 touring hubs, wrapped in Maxxis DTH 26” x 2.3″ tanwall tires. I chose these tires primarily for the terrain this bike will tackle – a mix of pavement, fire roads, and hardpack gravel – where aggressive tread isn’t a priority. Additionally, they were the ideal choice because: (1) 2.3” is the widest tire I could comfortably fit both front and rear, and (2) the classic tanwall aesthetic complements the polished silver theme of the build.

When all was said and done, the only stock parts left on the bike were the Dia Compe Ahead headset and the CODA seatpost clamp!

The ride

So how does it ride? It’s a thrill. Maybe it’s the high bottom bracket, or maybe I’m simply riding the high of how the build turned out, but it’s a keeper. Despite the frame’s age and some of its “outdated” componentry, there is absolutely nothing compromising about this bike because – more than any other bike currently sitting in my garage  – it ignites my desire to get out there and pedal.

And therein lies the key! In a world so focused on new standards, new advances and leaving much of our past in the past, sometimes all it takes to rekindle the fire of riding a bike is to seek out the obsolete.

It’s a hoot.

As with all of my builds, the greatest satisfaction I receive is from the process of giving new life to a seriously rad bike that has been sitting alone in someone’s garage for almost 30 years. Bikes like this still deserve to be ridden, even in the year 2025! Turning an old, neglected frame into a one-of-a-kind masterpiece never gets old and is borderline therapeutic.

There are some major life lessons and analogies hidden in the process of restoring these old racing bikes that can only be discovered by putting in the time and effort to bring them back to life. It’s a beautiful moment as the final bolts are torqued and the end caps get crimped – because in that moment you realize what you’ve been working for is only moments away.

The build

Gallery

Did we do a good job with this story?