It's been 10 years since I started my cycling journey here in Portland, OR, and it's been a wild ride, filled with too many stories to cram into so few lines. But here's my best shot: from those early bonk-filled miles trying to bike to school (uphill!), to losing over 190 pounds (thanks, bikes), to riding across Oregon and Washington, and eventually developing Saudi Arabia's longest bikepacking route. None of it would've been possible without bikes, and none of it would've been comfortable without a few key things. Namely, a solid pair of bibs to get me through all those miles.
As much as I value and want to support companies making high-quality cycling bibs—especially those made in the U.S.—I also have to support my wallet. Cycling isn't cheap, and it's not getting any cheaper. So I'm always on the lookout for ways to keep this obsession affordable. At this point in my journey, I know what I want, and more importantly, what I need. And needs come first these days. As a self-supported cyclist, 99.9% of these adventures are funded out of pocket. I'd rather spend my hard-earned cash on the ride itself, not gear. Quality kit usually comes with a hefty price tag, and let's be honest, bibs are one of those items that regularly cost north of $150 USD. Or so I thought.
After putting all my existing bibs through the wringer, I found myself shopping for a new pair. I spent some time digging around for alternatives to my favourite Ornot's Cargo Bibs, which are phenomenal but out of my price range this time around. The social media algorithm picked up on my search and started feeding me ads for cycling brands I'd never heard of. That led me to The Black Bibs. Two things caught my attention right away: the price tag and the clean design, with no branding logos. At $85 USD, they were less than half what I normally pay. So I asked myself, if they're half the price, are they half as good? Because if they are, they'd still be worth it.
I pulled the trigger and ordered a pair of their Ultimate Adventure Bibs with cargo pockets because I simply can't do without pockets.
Behind the Bibs
I'd never heard of The Black Bibs before this, and I was curious about their story. Turns out, The Black Bibs were born out of a frustration most of us can relate to: cycling gear costs an arm and a leg. Created by Starlight Custom Cycling Apparel—a Virginia-based company known for its custom kits—they set out to make something different. No loud logos, no marketing fluff. Just solid, affordable bibs that do the job. And that's something I resonate with.
Their mission? Offer riders a reliable, comfortable pair of bibs at a price that wouldn't make them second-guess whether it was worth heading out in the first place. In a world where $200 bibs are the “norm,” The Black Bibs built a following by keeping it simple, functional, and most importantly, accessible. Riders who care more about the ride than the branding are drawn to them, and for good reason.
Design & Construction
Since I've mostly ridden in bibs twice the price, I worried my opinion might be biased, thinking these would be “just good enough.” And honestly, a few details reinforced that early suspicion. For one, the straps meet in the middle with seams that sit right on the shoulders. The thickness made me wonder if they'd cause irritation over time, or if I'd even notice them once I started riding. The same goes for the cargo pockets. Narrow and made from dense stretch fabric instead of the usual mesh, with internal seam work. All worth paying attention to.
That said, there were positives too. Right off the bat, I appreciated the seams around the chamois, the chamois itself, and the leg grippers. If it sounds like I'm obsessed with seams, I am. Seam failure around the chamois is the most common point of failure I've seen across years of riding. Small tears form over time due to repeated stress, especially when the chamois stays still on the saddle while the rest of the bib stretches and flexes around it. That tug-of-war adds up. Trust me, I've unintentionally mooned a few people to make that a real concern. So yeah, that's a box I'm serious about checking.
Inspecting the chamois, I think the bibs could be better with slightly firmer padding that still keeps the softness around the edges, but as-is, it appears to deliver solid support for most rides. If I don't notice it while riding, that proves it is quietly doing its job.
The cargo pocket fabric also grew on me. It's a tightly woven stretch fabric, much tougher than the airy mesh you often see, which is prone to tearing once a snag develops. And since bushwhacking is a given on my rides, I've shredded a few mesh pockets in the past.
The leg grippers? I'm a big fan of these woven elastic grips that don't slide on my hairy legs. The gripper is integrated into the leg itself, not glued on silicone dots or strips that tend to peel or fall apart over time. These seem to be built to last. If I had one wish, it would be a wider profile for more surface contact and even tension.
As for construction, the main things I kept my eye on were those thick inner seams, the straps, and overall durability. I was ready to put them to the test.
Through the Wringer
Despite my initial concerns, I threw them on and went for a spin through one of my usual weekday loops in the West Hills outside of my Portland home to see how they felt. I had no product testing mindset, no checklist …just a normal ride. The fact that I barely noticed the bibs was the biggest win. No hot spots, no awkward shifting, and despite my earlier doubts, the straps felt invisible. The bibs were breathable, even in Portland's unpredictable spring temperature spikes. Nothing flashy. Nothing distracting. Just quietly solid. The evaluation criteria would be simple. Only move to the next stage if the bibs have passed the one before it. No sense heading out on a 150-miler if the bibs struck out on a scant 20-mile jaunt. It's been two months now, and over 1,600 miles later, wearing them on daily rides, long-distance ventures on the weekends, including a two-day bikepacking trip.
Next up was a longer day with plenty of high-effort climbs and spicy singletrack to mix things up. I picked an 86-mile, 8,600-foot route with my buddy Ali into the Chehalem Mountains. The bibs continued to perform well, and the chamois held up through most of the ride; however, I did feel some heat build-up on the long climbs. The cargo pockets worked great with snacks on one side, phone on the other, no bounce, no sag. The straps stayed put, the grippers didn't ride up. That kind of quiet performance goes a long way when you're several hours into a ride. That quiet reliability is what earned them the green light to move on to the next level.
Long days in the saddle feel like a gift these days, especially with how busy life gets. When I do get the time, I try to make the most of it. Ron & Sep invited me to join them for an epic coastal range 125-miler, which had everything from exposed climbs and fast descents, and even a mid-ride burrito stop to beat the bonk. The bibs held up well early on; however, approaching the 90-mile mark, when temperatures climbed and fatigue set in, the same hot spots I noticed during the Chehalem ride were more pronounced and persistent, marking the end of the unnoticeable bib. The performance ceiling may have been hit. Even with those critiques, I never found myself thinking about the bibs in a way that pulled me out of the ride. And that's often the best compliment you can give a piece of gear, when it becomes part of the background, not the problem.
The final assessment would be an overnighter through the Ochoco Mountains with my friend Kevin. The plan was to park in Antelope, ride to Mitchell via the Ochocos, then return via the old Rajneeshpuram lands. We packed light with only a few snacks, a change of clothes, and beds booked at the legendary Spoken Hostel. Day one was a monster with 85 miles and 8,500 feet of mixed terrain from smooth pavement, to gravel, to uber chunky gnar, to dried muddy Forest Roads, creek crossings and even singletrack. We were spent by the time we got to the Hostel. The previous issues I experienced on my 125-mile ride didn't reappear on this day. No hot spots, no discomfort. The bibs faded into the background—exactly where they should be. Day two riding back to the vehicle was a repeat of day one. The bibs went unnoticed.
The Verdict?
When I set out on this test, my goal was simple: find a wallet-friendly pair of bibs that could hold their own through the kind of riding I actually do. The Black Bibs weren't meant to dethrone my high-end bibs in my closet; they were meant to supplement them. Something solid I could rotate in without feeling like I was settling. And honestly? That's exactly what they delivered.
They're not perfect. You won't find fancy materials or plush multi-density chamois that mould to your body over 10 hours. And when pushed deep into triple-digit territory under heat and fatigue, they may show you some limitations. But at $85 USD, that's not a failure, it's value. The Black Bibs aren't just affordable; they're enabling. They don't need to be the best bibs you own. They just need to be good enough that you stop thinking about them and start thinking about where you're riding next.
They won't replace my favorite premium bibs, but they earned a hanger in my closet and even more than that, they've reminded me that good gear doesn't have to be expensive to be worth riding in.
| ✓ Pros |
|---|
| High-quality experience at a great price |
| Refreshing $85 USD price point |
| Simple, clean no-logo design |
| ✕ Cons |
|---|
| Showed limitations on long, hot days |
| Some seam finishing could be cleaner |
