Have you picked up on the latest trend in bike design? It’s not super-light, carbon fibre, Wiggins-inspired speed machines. It’s not uncompromising rough-stuff mountain bikes. No, in 2017, it’s all about the Frankenbike.

Time was when you had to be a cycling Dr Hyde to build a Frankenbike. You’d take a few parts from a racer, marry it with an old MTB you had lying around, add some choice kit you’d eyed up in the local shop, and behold: the bike that does exactly what you want. Frankenbikes were built in sheds, garages, barns; anywhere with a spanner, a can of WD-40, and a box of unidentified bits with the word ‘Shimano’ stamped somewhere on them. But you couldn’t buy one.

Now you can. Bike shops are full of Frankenbikes, mixing and matching kit from disparate disciplines. One common combination is the ‘do-it-all’ or ‘adventure’ bike, an unholy amalgam of the drop-bars of a road bike, the steel frame of a tourer, and the chunky tyres of an MTB. With rugged names like AWOL, Long Haul Trucker or Croix de Fer, these are the ideal steeds not just for snaking down that remote bridleway, but also the road ride that gets you there. “The only bike you’ll ever need,” runs the marketing copy.

Well, maybe. Unless you want to go to the shops, that is, or carry kids. Then you need a whole new Frankenbike.

Enter our recent purchase, a Circe Morpheus. Created by a small firm just outside Cambridge, it takes Frankenbikery to new levels. Is it a cargo bike? A tandem? A holiday tourer? All of those, and more.

Let me sketch it out. The back is a normal enough small-wheeled bike, upright for stately pedalling around town. But the front… protrudes. Ahead of the handlebars, 3ft of frame stretch out towards the front wheel. What you do with that space is your decision.

Right now, we mount a car seat on it for Fairhurst Junior (aged 9 months), taking him on slow-paced ambles round the Cotswolds where he can enjoy the light flitting through the dappled trees. When he outgrows that, we can fit a recumbent-style seat and an extra set of pedals, making it a family-friendly tandem. And when we need to transport something bulky, like picking up a Christmas tree from the local farm, we simply strap it to a rack with a clutch of bungees. (Believe me, cycling with a Christmas tree on your bike is a great way to ward off close passes.)

Dutch-style cargo bikes are becoming more common on the streets of Oxford, and tick a few of the same child-carrying and goods-toting boxes. But here in Charlbury, in the hilly Cotswolds, their heavy steel frames and three Sturmey-Archer gears don’t cut it. So we specced out our Morpheus with 11 hub gears, disc brakes for security on those steep descents, and touring bars for comfortable long rides.

That’s the joy of a Frankenbike: it’s the bike that suits your needs, and perhaps no-one else’s. Next time you buy a bike, forget convention, and choose the bike made for the rides you want to do.