It began, as most good things do, with a quiet longing.

In a world drowning in carbon, blinding colors, and brochure promises, I found myself wondering if somewhere, somehow, a bike still existed that wasn’t just another fast-fashion frame. A bike that was built, not specced; that was forged, not manufactured.

That longing simmered for months, years maybe, until one evening, scrolling past another endless parade of neon plastic and three-letter acronyms, I stumbled onto something different. A name: Scolarian. A bike: Mudfest.

Steel. Simplicity. Soul.

It was an old South Indian rider, weathered and wiry, who had ridden his way up into the high Himalayas, carrying the soul of distant coasts with him. We met at a small dhaba tucked between misty switchbacks, where he first whispered the name to me, half between sips of chai and tales of roads long swallowed by the forest. He tapped his ceramic cup lightly against the table for emphasis, the way old hands do when they believe in what they’re saying, then leaned back with a contented sigh as if releasing the weight of a thousand unseen miles. Behind us, the clatter of utensils and the low hiss of a sputtering stove filled the chilly air, grounding the moment in the humble, timeless rhythm of mountain life.

“If you’re looking for a proper bike, one you can trust anywhere,” he said with a small smile, “find yourself a Scolarian.”

I didn’t know it then, but I had just met a new companion.

First glimpse: the Mudfest leans quietly against a dhaba wall, waiting to be noticed.

First Sight: Meeting the Mudfest

The first time I saw the Mudfest, it didn’t shout.

No shouty graphics. No oversized tubing. No desperate attempt to look like the future.

Just clean, confident lines. A kind of quiet rebellion in a world that had forgotten how to whisper.

The frame, made entirely from chromoly steel — every tube, every dropout — sat with a weight of purpose. You could feel the thought behind it, like a handmade knife resting easy in the palm.

Close-up of the chromoly steel frame — clean welds, muted finish, strength in simplicity.

In that first meeting, the Mudfest didn’t try to impress. It simply was.

And that, oddly enough, was what impressed me most.

Under the Skin: What Makes a Mudfest

A lot of bikes are “steel,” at least on the sticker.

But most, it turns out, are only steel where it shows: a front triangle of chromoly, and a rear triangle often downgraded to cheaper high-tensile compromise. A frame built with fine words but unfinished truths.

Not the Mudfest.

Every piece of this frame — top tube, down tube, seat tube, stays, dropouts, head tube, bottom bracket — is chromoly.
Every tube is seamless, drawn not welded.

Seamless steel: the hidden strength that defines the Mudfest.

This matters more than most realize. A seamed tube is weaker at its welded line. Seamless tubes offer unbroken strength — the same kind of integrity demanded in racecars and serious engineering.

Even among so-called premium brands, seamed tubes hide behind the paint.
Here, Scolarian chose to walk the harder path.

A Builder’s Philosophy

Founded in 2015 in Coimbatore, Scolarian started with the simplest form of cycling — single speeds and fixies — bikes free from expectation and full of soul.

Over the years, they evolved into builders of gravel bikes and touring frames, but their spirit stayed the same: engineering over marketing, rider-first philosophy over trends.

They could have simply ordered Columbus, Reynolds, or Dedacciai branded tubes, picked a size and grade off the catalog, and entered the world of boutique small-batch builders — building frames with price tags far beyond the reach of most riders.

Instead, they chose something harder, and far more meaningful.

Using their background in motorsports fabrication and hands-on framebuilding, they went directly to tubing manufacturers — sourcing heat-treated butted tubes, custom drawing rear stays, controlling heat-treatment parameters, and fine-tuning the mechanical properties until they had the perfect balance between ride feel, strength, and affordability.

Because their dream wasn’t just to build great bikes.

It was to build great bikes for riders who needed them, not just those who could afford them.

Inside the forge: where ideas, steel, and stubborn dreams are shaped.

Designed for the Real World

You know the roads I’m talking about.

The half-built ones. The ones where tar melts into gravel. Where a dhaba and a hope are your best companions.

Mudfest is built for that world.

The kind of road the Mudfest calls home — where the adventure begins.

Slim front triangle tubes, just enough compliance.
Geometry tuned for agility without the nervousness that plagues most “gravel” bikes.
A bike that doesn’t survive roughness — it dances with it.

A Ride with the Mudfest: The First Struggle

It wasn’t a sunny ride that baptized the Mudfest.

It was a grim, grey morning near Jalori Pass, with clouds hanging low and the roads treacherous with half-fallen boulders and slick corners.

Mist, mud, and faith: where trust was forged between rider and frame.

At first, every loose patch felt like a gamble.
But slowly, the Mudfest began speaking in a language deeper than words: small flexes, subtle feedback, a delicate conversation between rider and road.

Where others would stiffen or chatter, the Mudfest sang.

By the fifth clench-jawed descent, I realized I trusted it more than some people I knew.

A Mudfest, Made My Way

The beauty of the Mudfest isn’t just how it’s built — it’s how it invites you to make it yours.

Mine carries its own stories in every bolt and spoke.

A thru-axle frame, tailored for strength and precision. Gold leaf embossing on the frame, hand-laid by Somy from Scolarian — a glint of craftsmanship hidden in plain sight.

The drivetrain is a simple, tough Microshift Advent X, shifting cleanly through ten gears. Braking comes from Juintech R1 cable-actuated hydraulic discs. Jagwire cables. Hand-built WTB rims. Alternating black and silver spokes, a small rebellion against uniformity.

Up front, the wide SCW Mud Alloy Adventure Handlebar gives me wings.

Could I upgrade? Maybe.
But honestly, I haven’t felt the need.

From the very first ride, Ketchup — my red, delicious Mudfest — felt like it was made for my roads, my mistakes, my dreams.

Ketchup in its natural habitat — red, ready, and built for the long road ahead.

Custom steel doesn’t just fit your body.
It fits your story.

TL;DR – Quick Facts About the Scolarian Mudfest

(FAQ for Riders in a Hurry)

Is the Scolarian Mudfest good for bikepacking in India?

Absolutely. Light-to-medium bikepacking, perfectly tuned for India’s mixed terrain.

What makes the Scolarian Mudfest different from other steel bikes?

Entirely seamless chromoly steel — including the rear triangle and dropouts.

Where is Scolarian based?

Coimbatore, India — engineering, prototyping, and building everything in-house.

How does the Mudfest compare to the Kettlexpress?

Mudfest is lighter and quicker for exploration; Kettlexpress is stiffer for heavy loaded touring.

Ready to meet your own Mudfest?
Sometimes the best rides begin with a quiet decision — to trust steel, to trust the road, to trust the ride.

Scolarian is waiting.

Image Credits

All images of the Scolarian Mudfest, Ketchup custom build, and workshop details were photographed by Scolarain bikes / Gearlama.
© 2025 Scolarian / Gearlama. All rights reserved.

For permission to reuse or feature images, please contact gear.lama@gmail.com.

Disclosure

This bike was provided by Scolarian for review purposes.
All thoughts, experiences, and words are entirely my own.