I’m not exaggerating when I say that wondering about different groupset names has kept me up at night on more than one occasion. I like logic and order and, to me, modern groupset names are anything but.

Even if you aren’t quite as kooky about bike components as I am but still have a vague interest in cycling, there’s a chance this question has crossed your mind: what on earth does this name on my [insert component here] mean?

If you’re slightly earlier in your bicycle knowledge journey and not sure what a groupset is, have a look at our guide to road bike groupsets for a full rundown.

To the point at hand: groupsets. All bike brands are guilty of nonsense naming to some degree. In a fast-paced consumer-driven world, brands are constantly bringing out new products in a bid to stay relevant and on trend.

Those products typically need new names or iterations of old ones, so it’s unsurprising that makers seem to run out of ideas, but must the names have so little to do with each other? Can’t we have consistent themes or number-based systems? Why not call it version one, two, three and carbon, and be done with it?

I got in touch with the big three groupset manufacturers and picked their brains as to how they arrived at some of their most popular groupsets’ names, and we’ve thrown in a dash of Cyclist speculation where answers were less forthcoming.

Back to basics: Let’s talk brand names

Lizzie Crabb / Cyclist

It’s fairly common knowledge that the big three bicycle groupset manufacturers are all named after their founders. Shimano and Campagnolo are pretty straight forward, founded by Shozaburo Shimano and Tullio Campagnolo respectively, but SRAM went a bit left-field with its naming.

Think that the initials stand for each founder’s name? You’d be incorrect. If that were true, the brand would be called SSS after Scott, Stan and Sam. It seems they decided that wasn’t catchy enough, so used Stan’s middle name, Ray, and amalgamated all three names into a new blend – SRAM – and let’s not even get into if you pronounce it with a sh or a s. (Never, ever a sh. –Ed.)

The next thing they all have in common is their approaches to naming their electronic groupsets. Campagnolo went with a straightforward logic, with its EPS acronym standing for ‘Electronic Power Shift’. Shimano took a similar approach, but with a less exacting logic, with Di2 meaning ‘Digital Integrated Intelligence’. We get it, but only just.

SRAM once again took a slightly different approach, with two words rather than one. eTap apparently follows on as an ‘electronic DoubleTap’ – though the function is completely different – while it entirely gives up the ghost at AXS, symbolising how you can AXcesS all of the components through each other. Like I said, pretty vague.

Shimano: An American songbird or a Japanese sky?

Joseph Branston / Cyclist

Now we get into the nitty gritty, and the spark which started our original train of thought. When I contacted Shimano, I asked for a run-down of their most popular road groupset names, specifically my personal itch – 105.

Sadly, I didn’t get an answer for 105, so resorted to the dark depths of the internet for all possible meanings. 105 used to be called ‘Golden Arrow’ and, while some have suggested the name comes from a model number for a shifter, SL-A 105, I have no proof that this is the case.

Back in the ‘Golden Arrow’ days, Ultegra was actually called 600, before a rebrand in 1997. Shimano told us that the name Ultegra comes from a combination of ‘Ultimate’ and ‘Integrity’, while Dura-Ace follows a similar suit combining the words ‘Durability’ and ‘Ace’, for top performance.

Honor Elliott / Cyclist

While that doesn’t scratch my 105 itch, it does make sense. Pick two words you like, stick them together and Bob’s your uncle. I wish the same could be said for Tiagra, Claris and Sora – the last of which is both a brown American songbird and the word ‘sky’ in Japanese – but I have no idea. Shimano wasn’t forthcoming with those specific answers, so I’ll be left guessing on that front.

To be fair to Shimano, it has a much more comprehensive approach to its actual model numbers, with a system of prefixes for different component types, and numbers to denote difference groupsets.

In this case, FC denotes a crankset, R9100 is the groupset, and P is the power meter variant. Matthew Loveridge / Cyclist

For example, anything with a number in the 7000s now means that it’s 105, while the main Di2-specific parts (levers, cranks etc.) get product codes that end in 50 or 70, for example R9250, R8170.

Combine that with fairly simple abbreviations – such as BR for brake calipers or RD for a rear derailleur – and you get model numbers that make sense to those in the know. There are many quirks within this system but at least there is an overall cohesion.

SRAM: Who is Sachs-Huret?

Matthew Loveridge / Cyclist

I gave SRAM stick for its brand name, but how about its groupset names? SRAM was quick to give me the run down on how it chose names for its road ranges.

‘The SRAM names are not connected to one another’, says SRAM’s David Zimberoff. ‘We wanted to choose strong names that were short, relevant, and powerful. After some brainstorming and trademark searching, we found Force and Rival to be available in our categories, so we went with those.’

While I wish there was a rationale to why one was above the other, given that groupsets are tiered on performance, the names make sense overall. Interestingly, SRAM bought out a smaller company called Sachs-Huret in 1997, a brand which had several derailleurs featuring the word ‘rival’ in the name, but SRAM made no reference to this as a reason for its choice.

SRAM’s top-tier range came out after Force and Rival, and the brand decided it need a ‘best-in-class name’ to match the product quality.

‘We wanted something meaningful, powerful, and that stood for all things SRAM. We looked at our corporate colour one day – red – and thought – hey, this could work’, says Zimberoff. ‘There’s nothing more powerful than our core colour, and as such we felt it very appropriate to use as a flagship best-in-class name.’

SRAM

This would be sound logic if it weren’t for SRAM’s lower tier groupset being called Apex, which by definition means ‘the highest point of achievement’. We get the idea behind Red, but we’re not 100% convinced. Loving the self-confidence though.

Campagnolo: Imagination running wild

Matthew Loveridge / Cyclist

Despite our best efforts, I couldn’t get an answer out of Campagnolo on its groupset names, so I had to go full investigative journalism on the matter – by which I mean I dug into the depths of every available relevant forum. While some of their theories border on the maniacal, several of them held a glimmer of sanity.

The first of these was that Campagnolo has been following a mystical thread. The only remaining example of this is its 11-speed groupset, Centaur, but it was by no means the sole mythic name in the brand’s history.

The likes of Athena, Icarus and Euclid preceded Centaur, all from Greek mythology, the latter two as monikers for MTB groupsets in the 1990s. There was also Mirage which, while not a directly connected, does continue the fantastical theme.

Other now-discontinued groupsets include the likes of Potenza and Veloce, which had simple Italian translations – meaning strength or power and speed, respectively. I’m opting to ignore Xenon, a chemical element found in the distillation of liquid air, as that is clearly a name founded in madness.

James Carnegie / Cyclist

Some of the Campagnolo’s remaining groupsets are equally literal in name. The word ‘record’ can mean the same in the brand’s mother tongue as in English, with Super Record pitched as the best of the best. The 13-speed gravel groupset, Ekar, gets its name straight from a mountain that neighbours the brand’s Italian HQ.

The furthest away from these prosaic titles is potentially Chorus. While it may seem intangible at first, several Internet users claim that Campagnolo released the following statement alongside the groupset’s launch back in 1987: ‘The Chorus equipment performs as if it were on a stage singing in unison.’ While we are unsure of the veracity of these claims, it’s a nice, if slightly gaudy, thought if it’s true.

A plea for the future

I’d like to think that manufacturers aim to make groupsets that will last the test of time and, as such, feel they should commit the same level of effort to labelling their creations. If there is no consistency from one to the next, how is the outside world supposed to understand their inner workings? The sheer amount of confusion regarding different groupset hierarchies is testament to that failure.

I can’t help feeling that the cycling industry can do better in this regard. It feels like products are made first and given a slapdash name later on. Maybe that’s unfair, maybe years of planning do go into it but from both my perspective as a journalist and a cyclist, the method does not make itself known in the ostensible madness.

Simply put, big cycling manufacturers, I think you can do better. Keep your zest for a creative spark but imbue it with some sense of order and logic. Put in some numbers that make sense or just stick to a consistent running theme, literally anything. You can do it, we believe in you.

Looking for more hot takes? Editor Pete Muir has some thoughts about electronic shifting

Tags: Opinion