Cane Creek eeWings Review: Five Years of Patina
The Cane Creek eeWings titanium cranks are the ultimate “forever cranks.” With a simple design and thoughtful details aplenty, these cranks promise to outlive any bike they’re attached to. Their price tag is substantial, so John Montesi reflects on five years and 18,000 miles of hard use to decide if they are a worthwhile investment. Read his Cane Creek eeWings review to find out…
PUBLISHED Oct 15, 2024
“Oh no. No, no, no. You can’t do that!” The chatty Albertan taps on my cranks as my bike awaits me on my rack. I assume he’s referring to the patina and chipped paint from years of hard riding and pedal strikes. Then I think maybe he’s just hating on a nice component as people are wont to do. He reveals the truth soon enough. “You PAINTED your Ti cranks!?”
Ah. I realize what’s happening here and find myself having to explain my aesthetic choices for my own bike. “They actually came that way! Cane Creek did a limited run called the Raven. I really like the stealth aspect and the way it fits with my build. Plus, someday I can just polish the paint off and have a whole new vibe.”
“Oh, that’s fair enough.”
He didn’t seem convinced. A quick look at the bike rack on his Vanagon revealed a bare titanium hardtail, which speaks for itself.
Do we build bikes for ourselves or for others? Some people nod and wink at me when they notice these beat-to-hell cranks are indeed secretly eeWings, just like they nod when they realize the bike they’re attached to is not steel but rather powder-coated titanium. I happen to like the bold, colorful aesthetic, and I value the playful faux camo of not flaunting my material choices to others.
It brings to mind a scene from Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade where the eponymous protagonist is looking for The Holy Grail. In a room full of ostentatious vessels, he finally recognizes a humble and beat-up wooden chalice. “Now this is the cup of a carpenter!” he exclaims. I use this line shockingly often for someone who’s only seen the movie once. It stands out as a Hollywood punchline for my ethos—beat-up trucks with million-mile motors, nice metal bikes with good brassing, pants worn until the holes in them might get you a public indecency ticket—all things used for their own sake, appreciated fully, loved through use instead of endless polishing.
Bicycles are vehicles for joy and escape in a stressful world. They are toys we can tinker with, machines we can learn to work on ourselves, ever-evolving artistic expressions, and functional tools. I believe they are at their best when we don’t have to worry about their aesthetics or mechanics beyond routine maintenance and occasional loving baths.
I’ve owned late-model race machines that hurt my soul when they got scratched and seemed to demand a preciousness that added stress to a stress-relieving pursuit. Now, I’ve got bikes that are somewhere between robust and antifragile. They certainly don’t get any worse with all the scratching and rubbing, and they might even get better with the patina and brassing of repeat use leaving its marks on the metal.
And so exists the interesting truth about Cane Creek eeWings cranks. They are a pricey and “blingy” component, but perhaps the best argument for them is how antifragile they really are. Not only are they lighter than most (all?) other 30mm spindle cranks, but they are tougher than probably any other option on the market. They are hollow titanium arms with a hollow titanium spindle and a toothy Hirth joint affixing the drive side to the spindle. The crank bolt is titanium, and the preload collar is aluminum, which means there is no single piece of plastic in the whole system.
And they wear beautifully, taking on scratches and brassing over time with room for nearly infinite polishings to bring them back to new. People who know will appreciate them, while others will see a relatively dull metal and simple silhouette that feels downright reserved in a sea of ever more exotic carbon cranks and alien-looking chainring spiders. In spite of their outrageous price tag, these really are the Cranks of a Carpenter.
When I first bought the eeWings Raven mountain bike cranks nearly five years ago, I set out to build a “forever bike,” seeking analog parts with long warranties and minimal failure points. I worked in the industry and had access to generous discounts, and I’d done the dance of carrying a bike out of the woods after cracking cranks with a sloppy line and a bad dinger.
A Little eeWings History
The Cane Creek eeWings cranks have a storied history, dating back to an earlier version of titanium cranks from the ‘90s known as Sweet Wings. Craig Edwards, the mad scientist behind that original brand, Edwards Engineering, was way ahead of his time in recognizing the stiffness, compliance, weight, and durability benefits of bringing an exotic frame material to one of the most stressed and least considered components on a bicycle. He is the same obsessive engineering guru responsible for the legendarily light eeBrakes for road rim braking systems, which explains the historical throughline to Cane Creek’s purchase of his business.
When Cane Creek re-engineered and re-released the titanium crankset, it modernized the legendary Sweet Wings with a 30mm spindle, more lightness, and a few other bits and bobs that make it as close to “future proof” as any component can be in this industry of planned obsolescence. The ensuing eeWings cranks are a direct homage to their original creator, named with a clever portmanteau of Edwards Engineering and Sweet Wings, all with the benefit of lighter weight and a 10-year warranty. As long as bikes accommodate 30mm spindles and one of the few modern bottom bracket standards, there will be a place for these cranks on your bike.
What can you say about a bike part that, if it does its job right, will be largely forgotten? I have these cranks on both of my most-ridden bikes, and thus far, I have yet to test that 10-year warranty. I have put over 8,000 miles on them on my gravel bike and over 6,000 miles on them on my mountain bike, and in all that time, the cranks themselves have exhibited zero issues. The raw finished cranks on my current gravel bike spent a year and 2,500 miles on a previous build before I switched them over. There have been a handful of foibles related to their fitment and tightening system, but one could arguably attribute those to user error. More on that later.
The compliance, stiffness, and weight of titanium all combine to elevate a relatively forgettable part of a bike into the centerpiece of a build. A bit of all the best qualities one could ask for in a place that is arguably the most important contact point we have with our bikes. It is where our feet receive vibrations from the trail and where we transfer all of our power to the drivetrain, where we smash our precious components into various rocks along the way.
For those of us who like to push the limits of where and how we ride, the stakes are raised and the unforeseen scenarios multiply. A cracked crank arm doing shuttle laps at your favorite after-work trail is a two-hour inconvenience. A cracked crank arm on the Silk Road or 30 burly singletrack miles from the trailhead on a backcountry mission is something else entirely. I am admittedly not the best DIY mechanic, but over the years, I’ve used duct tape to seal early (read: bad) road tubeless tires and converted bikes to singlespeed in the desert using the most basic multi-tools and shoelaces after derailleur-shearing bad lines through unforgiving rock chutes. But even the best field mechanic would be hard-pressed to gumball and rubber band a cracked crank arm back together.
I think about the times I’ve been most desperate in my life and what I would pay in that given moment for something that feels virtually unattainable. Like a helicopter bailout on a misadventure in the wilderness or a nice rain jacket when you’ve forgotten yours, certain situations really up the stakes on what we might consider “worth it.”
Measured in this way, against a combined nearly 10 years and 15,000 miles, these cranks have been worth every penny. I tend to forget about them, aside from the fact that they are a bombproof and exceptionally comfortable yet stiff part of the alchemical whole that is my bikes. This is far from a perfect answer for the price versus the competition but amortized over the useful, warrantied life of these cranks plus the exceptional confidence they instill, there is an argument for their intersection of not only stiffness to weight but also weight to durability.
It is rare to find parts that are both the lightest possible option and the most durable, and yet, with the eeWings, we have just that. In a world where the adage “stiff, light, durable: pick two” tends to apply, finding enduro-ready, XC-weight cranks that are equally at home on an exotic road bike as a big-travel mountain bike appears to be beyond science. And any part that’s tough enough for Mach Whatever rock strikes is tough enough for the myriad novel ways to destroy bike parts that true bikepacking adventures throw at them.
Then there’s the argument that some weight savings are better than others. While you will never find me seeking to save weight on something like tires, where the trade-off is obvious, saving weight on cranks while also gaining durability is a genuine boon that allows for a lighter bike weight. As with backpacking, there are (almost) always trade-offs between weight and other qualities like comfort, durability, and user-friendliness. Saving weight without any practical compromises allows me to splurge on other things, whether that be tougher tire casings, comfier handlebars, or a few extra snacks in my frame bags.
My hard-won philosophy in life is that things should be robust and unfussy—that is, both hard to break and also easy to shrug off inevitable cosmetic damage—and the best tool for the job at hand. At times, this means we want the simplest and lowest-cost option. At others, it means we want the best possible thing—if not in terms of racing-spec lightness, then indeed in terms of craftsmanship and overall build quality.
The eeWings cranks are somehow both. And they are that intangible third thing, a part so spectacularly designed for the task at hand, so gorgeous and interesting, that they elevate absolutely any bike they’re bolted to. I’ve seen them on simple steel singlespeeds and hardcore modern carbon full-suspension bikes, and they always add an interesting twist in a spot that is often glazed over by the eye.
The user experience
Of all bike components, cranks are a wildly subjective one to review. The perceived power transfer and comfort (lack of chatter vibration returned to the rider through the pedal platform) are both impacted by other things like your chosen pedal system, shoes, and even socks. This is to say nothing of whether the bike itself is a brutally stiff race machine or a pillowy full-suspension enduro sled.
In my case, I’ve ridden eeWings cranks on a titanium gravel bike with a carbon fork and a titanium hardtail mountain bike with a 130mm suspension fork, as well as played around on friends’ bikes with the cranks ranging from fully rigid singlespeed rigs to full-suspension mountain bikes.
One could argue that the cranks themselves add a bit of titanium magic to any bike, giving the pedal system and foot-to-bike interface a nice psychic boost. I have grown to love and trust the way the eeWings cranks feel, and while they are far from necessary, the fact that I own two sets of them means that my forever bikes will arguably forever have titanium cranks on them. I am a sloppy rider who pushes myself and the definitions of rideable terrain, so every intangible opportunity to alleviate rider fatigue and component concern is beneficial. Weight savings and ride quality are benefits that only increase as the days grow longer and more heinous, while the borderline indestructible materials increase my confidence in getting further out there, even as pedal placement suffers from accumulated fatigue.
Much like spinning vinyl records on a fully analog audio system, warmth is a preference more than a fact. I’ve listened to digital audio setups with extraordinary fidelity, and I’ve run guitars through fully digital amplification that blows the mind with their infinite adjustability. I’ve ridden race bikes that offer stiffness and weight that absolutely are noticeable to a rider who pushes the limits the way many of us do.
And yet, when it comes down to what I prefer, it is very rarely the raciest setup or the most adjustable digital soundboard. Riding bikes is often far more spiritual than it is measurable. And ultimately, if you are on BIKEPACKING.com, your philosophical approach is something other than saving seconds at any cost. Although, if paring grams off your build is paramount, the eeWings actually do that, too. My occasional indulgence in a good hard effort is never hindered by my crankset. Its stiffness and weight compare with my bygone road racing setups, even on a Boost-spaced mountain bike.
Ultimately, metal bikes and metal components are said to have more “soul” than their miracle-plastic counterparts. Durability and recyclability are increasingly important to many of us in the era of existential awareness. It simply feels good to ride a bike with fewer mass-produced plastic bits, both in a vibrational and emotional sense. There is a warmth to these cranks that transcends utility.
Some Comparisons
In every case, one of the most noteworthy aspects of the eeWings is the fact that you simply forget they are there. This is in stark contrast to some of my previous cranks, such as the Easton EC90 SL carbon cranks on my steel all-road bike, where the extreme stiffness is noticeable underfoot. I’ve found that the Easton chainrings impart a pretty noticeable chain noise on the drivetrain, tending toward the extreme trade-off that one gets when chasing stiffness and weight at all costs. This also highlights the philosophical difference between metal forever bikes and disposable trend-chasing race rigs. Chain noise and vibration might be acceptable in a road race setting while they have no place on the bikes we use for long days (or weeks) in the mountains.
Much like titanium frames, there is a last-degree nuance to the stiffness and comfort of these cranks that seems to effortlessly blend the benefits of carbon and aluminum into something that is better than both—if the cost can be justified. Compared to other parts of the systemic whole of a bike build, the cranks are largely simply “there,” but one could argue that everything from aesthetics to power transfer to weight is impacted by them far more than most people realize.
I have White Industries cranks with matching chainrings—the gold standard of gorgeous-yet-reasonable cranks—on my singlespeed rigid gravel monster. I can speak to their beauty and my aesthetic satisfaction with them after years of dreaming of building a bike around them. I can also confirm that so far in markedly less abusive conditions, they have held up perfectly to the extreme torque spikes and heel rub from singlespeeding in a rugged, hilly environment. Overall, there is little to complain about with this aluminum crankset, and any difference in power transfer or vibrational chatter is likely within the margin of error for my road-worn nerves. But the high-polish finish is markedly less antifragile than the titanium alternative. It does not get prettier with wear, and it requires a lot more daily upkeep to remain shiny. The black version is likely a better alternative for aesthetic durability concerns.
There is an argument to be made about the weight: 565 grams versus 400 for the crank arms and spindles, with another percentage increase for the beautiful matching chainrings versus something minimal like the Wolftooth chainring I run on my eeWings. If the total difference is averaged out to 200 grams, we are looking at .44 pounds of weight difference between the two gold-standard metal cranks. The price difference between cranks sits at roughly $700, while the difference in warranties is five years for the White Industries to 10 years for the eeWings. Only you can decide if the math maths on that one, but a half pound of weight savings is significant.
The ‘tweener wildcard that I’ve long been curious about, the Appleman 2XR, splits the difference in price while weighing virtually the same as the White Industries in a size-for-size comparison. Their color combinations are stunning, and the wide array of precise crank arm lengths are compelling for reasons beyond stiffness, weight, or appearance.
This is by no means an exhaustive list, but it covers many of the iconic boutique metal cranks on the market that would seem to offer similar aesthetic and functional considerations.
The direct competition
There are a couple of other titanium cranks on the market, and they are both worth acknowledging in a comprehensive review of the eeWings.
5DEV Titanium Cranks
Priced comparably to the eeWings with the added benefit of being made in San Diego, 5DEV makes highly experimental-looking, semi-hollow titanium mountain cranks in a variety of arm lengths, as well as more conventional-looking cranks for road, gravel, and cross-country mountain bike applications. They also offer interchangeable spindles that address one of my only concerns about whether the eeWings are truly a “forever” component: the ability to fit the cranks themselves on a variety of frames with different bottom bracket shells.
I can’t speak firsthand about the 5DEV cranks, but I suspect they are a worthy competitor to the eeWings, albeit from a much smaller component manufacturer.
Boone Technologies Radius Titanium Cranks
Boone Technologies is an ultra-boutique component manufacturer based out of Kennesaw, Georgia. For comparable pricing to the eeWings or 5Dev offerings, you can also pick made-in-the-Southeast titanium cranks with either an integrated titanium spindle or an aluminum spindle for more modular configurations at a lower price point. Boone’s crank arm profile is more minimal and “traditional” like the eeWings, which both call to mind Profile Racing’s iconic BMX cranks.
I have not sampled Boone’s offering either, but the most intriguing differentiator is the drive spline, which allows the use of almost any spline and chainring spider on the market. Being able to run almost any possible chainring is a huge plus for such a specialized component and opens the door for the ultimate aesthetic or performance-minded build.
What’s wrong with a $1,000 bike crank?
Alas, even at this price point, nothing is perfect. While you can routinely find them on sale from various outlets, the upfront cost is one of the eeWings’ biggest objective demerits. Their durability, light weight, aesthetics, and super-long warranty largely justify the price tag, though each factor’s relative worth is up to the individual.
Critiques beyond value include things like the fact that the eeWings are not made in the USA, which is disappointing for a boutique bike component made of exotic metal, particularly with a premium price tag.
There are some unorthodox aspects to the overall user experience, from the fact that the cranks are tightened with a single 14mm Allen-style bolt (preposterously difficult to find, occasionally stumping even bike shops) to the fact that you are slathering that bolt with anti-seize instead of Loctite, which feels profoundly counterintuitive. The 14mm is a frustrating choice because you will never find this size on a multi-tool or even in a small standalone tool kit. Cane Creek claims it did this to minimize system weight (wider bolt opening meaning less material in the titanium bolt) and to enable you to crank it down to a formidable 52Nm. I have a friend who commissioned a run of titanium bolts with a far more reasonable 8mm Allen bolt pattern, and I think these would be best-sellers if eeWings cranks were a bit more ubiquitous. Note that newer versions of these cranks have received some hardware updates over the years that may change some of these complaints.
In my experience running these cranks on a hardtail mountain bike and a very burly gravel bike, I have had exactly one instance that the cranks caused issues on a ride. The crank bolt began loosening on a routine gravel ride, and I obviously did not have access to a 14mm Allen wrench. Neither did any of the rural Arkansans whose driveways I hollered down. I finally found a branch I could jam into the bolt and twist it enough to get it “hand tight,” so technically, even on that ride, I was able to finish under my own power. Whether the loosening was caused by previous work on my bike or not has since been lost to the annals of time.
Then there are the relatively esoteric spacer requirements for the overall crankset assembly, which vary based on bottom bracket standard and shell width. In my case, the T47 bottom brackets on both of my bikes mean that I have to run an increasingly arcane 47mm internal diameter spacer on one side of the crankset assembly.
This is a chart that I and every mechanic who’s ever helped me with the bike has to visit and revisit, and it is a requirement that has led to creaks, squeaks, and chainring contacting the chainstay (“We will reach out to Sklar about getting that repaired for you”) when your workbench or the bike shop inevitably gets a bit hectic and something gets forgotten or assembled in the wrong order. As with all bike builds and maintenance, the eeWings demand an extra layer of measure twice, cut once when it comes to assembly and installation.
Lastly, there’s the whole cold fusion thing. Even with anti-seize applied to all surfaces, bike pedals are subject to lots of moisture, grime, and torque. Mine are often frighteningly difficult to remove from the crank arms, and one must be mindful of the unique properties of titanium when it comes to their seasonal maintenance routine.
This list of cons is an honest summary of what can go wrong when you push these titanium cranks to the absolute limit. It is also relatively minimal, given that the cranks themselves are virtually indestructible in all likely (and unlikely) use cases.
Price aside, one must simply be mindful of having access to a 14mm Allen wrench or a replacement bolt, double-check the spacer chart, and be smart about the titanium thread interfaces as part of regular maintenance so you don’t wind up with sad old SPD spindles permanently affixed to your forever cranks.
- Model Tested: Cane Creek eeWings Titanium Cranks (Mountain Raven and All-Road)
- Weight: 400g (14.1 oz) Mountain, 396g (13.9 oz) All-Road
- Place of Manufacture: Taiwan
- Price: $1,099.99
- Manufacturer’s Details: Cane Creek
Pros
- Clean, classic design works with every build
- Stiffness, weight, and comfort are all best in class
- Durability is unquestionable
- Plastic-free construction
Cons
- Price is objectively very high for cranks
- Uncommon fastening bolt size requires an extra tool
- Fitment often requires spacers that leave room for human error
Wrap Up
As with any special interest, the value of excitement varies from person to person. It is impossible to put a universal price on how much you enjoy looking at, tinkering with, and riding your bike or what your preferred aesthetic is. When it comes to cranks, there are, of course, equally (if not more) gorgeous options that cost less. And there are functionally competitive products with a similar price tag but wildly different aesthetics or materials choices. The beauty of the bike industry is that there are many options and even more opinions about the relative merits each part or material contributes to the whole.
Similarly, everyone has a different set of values. Ease of maintenance versus outright performance, cost of acquisition versus useful lifespan, experiential satisfaction versus objective needs.
Bikes can be as simple as a metal frame, a cool crank, and a single alloy cog, or comically complex with FEA-optimized modulus and encrypted WLAN networks for their drivetrains and dropper posts. Within those subheadings are even more choices, from colorful aluminum cranks to austere titanium masterpieces to Alien vs. Predator-looking hypermodern carbon bits. I am grateful we have so many choices and that in a world with so many things to worry about, I can be simply and sheepishly proud of my bicycles’ drivetrains, which have more miles on them than many cars.
Can you name another component where the lightest and highest-performance option is also the most durable? Or one that has had one (likely user error) ride-interrupting hiccup in five years and 18,000 very hard miles? Measured that way, the eeWings are an example of the perfect tool for the job—the cranks of a carpenter who prefers pedaling to polishing.
Further Reading
Make sure to dig into these related articles for more info...
Please keep the conversation civil, constructive, and inclusive, or your comment will be removed.