"It was the largest object I’ve ever sewn, and it took me 12 full days of sewing morning-to-night to finish."
When I released the Transfer Case in 2018, it solved a very specific pain point: not flying with your bike, but everything around it.
Getting to the airport.
Fitting the case in a car.
Rolling through train stations.
Moving through cities.
Its compact size meant you could fit one, or two, or even three in the back of a normal car. Couples and families didn’t need to book vans. You could take it on a train without apologizing to everyone around you. I love being able to carry it onto buses and subways without wondering if there would be space.
For the foreseeable future, I’ll still travel with my rim-brake titanium bike in the Transfer Case. I still think it’s the ultimate travel bike and case combination.
But beyond practicality, there was something else.
Photo credit: @mr.hydro, @so.fy.x
In conversations with customers, I sensed a shared spirit. A quiet pride. Packing a bike that small felt like getting away with something. Whether it was inside a TGV, in the trunk of a Fiat 500, on top of a Mini Cooper, or carried on someone’s back through a city, there was an “if you know, you know” feeling.
Some riders built their bike at the airport and rode straight to their hotel. Others disassembled a bike for the first time in their lives and rebuilt it successfully at their destination. For some, it was transformative. They realized they were more capable than they thought.
And yes, some people swore at the Transfer Case. Disassembling a bike put them outside their comfort zone. It wasn’t for everyone.
I think using the Transfer Case represented a kind of rebelliousness. We were willing to take extra steps; remove bars, pull forks, pack carefully — because we understood the benefits. Smaller. Lighter. More freedom once you arrived.
It wasn’t convenient. It was intentional.
The Shift
Over the last few years, bike design changed: Integrated cockpits. Fully internal routing. One-piece bars.
They look incredible. They ride beautifully. But they don’t like being taken apart. Suddenly, the compact disassembly philosophy of the Transfer Case became difficult, sometimes unrealistic. There were workarounds, but they were best left to very confident home mechanics. Huge travel cases became the default again.
I did the research and saw what was out there. There are cases that get the job done, but I kept seeing the same compromises. The soft cases felt oversized, under-protective, or heavier than they needed to be. And yes — I’ve seen the broken seat stays. I’ve heard the airport horror stories. I’ve had customers send photos after using other brands’ cases, trying to understand what went wrong. If your bike breaks in transit, that image sticks with you.
At the same time, hard cases carry their own penalty. Bulk. Weight. Storage. Moving them around once you land. The protection is good, but so is the inconvenience.
I knew I needed to design a cockpit-on solution. But it couldn’t just be a bigger bag. It had to improve the experience the way the Transfer Case did.
Early Attempts
As far back as 2018, I started prototyping full-size cases. “Just make the Transfer Case bigger,” some people requested. It didn’t work.
It was heavy, awkward and the proportions were wrong. Technically and structurally you can’t just enlarge a compact design and expect it to behave the same way.
Over the years I sketched, modeled, and made multiple prototypes. Most of them solved the basic requirement: fit a bike with the cockpit on. But they were just… another bike case. They didn’t change the experience.
As a solo designer, that’s sometimes the hardest part. You know there’s something there; pieces of good ideas but you can’t quite unify them. And without external pressure, it’s easy to circle the same thoughts.
The Constraint
In late 2024, Rob Gitelis (Founder @ Factor Bikes) approached me with a simple request: Design the smallest cockpit-on bike case possible. Specifically, it had to fit a Factor Ostro with a 44cm bar and 130mm stem. If other bikes didn’t fit, so be it.
That constraint changed everything.
Instead of trying to design for everyone (and every bike), I had a target. A shape. A boundary.
One sketch led to another. Ideas that had been floating separately finally connected. The breakthroughs came quickly once the shape was defined.
Just like the Transfer Case, there would be two sizes. Smaller frames and riders shouldn’t carry unnecessary volume.
Protection was non-negotiable. The corrugated polycarbonate panels that proved themselves in the Transfer Case returned, but this time shaped for the new design while still being collapsible. Protective when built. Compact when stored.
The Build
I always start with sketches, 2D drawings on Illustrator, then 3D CAD. Precision mattered. The Ostro needed to sit inside with millimeters to spare, not inches.
Then I sewed a prototype at home.
It was the largest object I’ve ever sewn, and it took me 12 full days of sewing morning-to-night to finish. But it validated the dimensions and forced decisions. Most of the time I spent on that prototype was making tiny design decisions as I sewed.
Once I moved to factory samples, development moved quickly. Having a full-scale prototype made communication efficient. It helps that I can ride one hour to the factory from where I live in Vietnam. There's no buffer in the communication and there's no telephone game to play. I can go, change, execute and test. Within two rounds of samples, the design was there.
The first time I traveled with it, I was surprised.
How easily it rolled through the airport.
How quickly the bike built up.
How normal it felt to book a standard taxi and fit my partner, my bike, and myself inside without thinking about it (because using other full-size cases in the past was a painful experience).
Rob and the Factor team tested early versions hard. The feedback was direct and honest. That pressure refined the design.
Time
The hidden advantage of taking years to design this case? Time.
The Transfer Case taught me what works and what doesn’t. My design skills matured. My supplier network in Vietnam improved. If I need to get something done, I know where to go. And for bike case design, I learned where protection truly matters and where excess material is just weight.
I couldn’t have finished this in 2018. It wasn’t ready and I wasn’t ready. Good design sometimes needs time.
Loomer
The Loomer is not going to be for everyone. Hard case loyalists will still believe nothing else is safe enough. Some integrated seatpost bikes won’t fit. Some riders will still feel removing a derailleur or seatpost is too much effort.
And that’s OK.
The Transfer Case was polarizing too. Some people loved it. Some hated it. But the ones who understood it felt it immediately.
I suspect the Loomer will be the same. It’s precise. It’s intentional. When you see it, you see it. And if you do, you’ll know exactly why it was designed this way.
-Marc Mendoza
Founder & Designer @ Post Carry Co.
P.S. A special thanks to the customers who have supported me through the years — it’s your feedback and support that continue to improve the products. And to Rob and the Factor team for an early conversation that helped frame this project, and to the incredibly talented Vietnamese sample makers and sewers whose skills makes these bags possible.