Opinion - They're All Flawed Bikes

You can spend as much money as you want, source the best suspension and get the best components, but your bike is still going to be flawed. It simply can't be perfect at everything that it's designed to do, regardless of how great it might be at most of the ride. I'd argue that's what makes today's bikes so interesting, though, and also all the more important to think long and hard about what you need.

---

You learn pretty quickly in life that no one is perfect, but also that it's usually someone's flaws, however small they might be, that makes them interesting. Actually, we should probably call them quirks rather than flaws lest I offend anyone out there who's flawed by not having a sense of humor, plus it makes those idiosyncrasies sound more fun and eccentric rather than being annoying enough to make just one of your eyes twitch. You know, like how you're going to love your boyfriend despite how he prefers to use a fork and knife to eat his pizza, and how your mother will always be your mother even though you're convinced that she must have bought her driving license rather than earned it. And quirks seem magnified when you're in a relationship, don't they? I once dated an amazing woman who, at least in hindsight, was probably a "keeper" as they say, even though I swear that the cat was using her mouth as a litter box when she slept. Her breath was impressively bad, but it was still a small quirk that, in the grand scheme of things, added character and meant very little. Ms. cat-pooh-breath was full of character.

Mountain bikes are kind of like people in that way; a lot are great, but none can be perfect. There are a ton of bikes out there that are really, really, fun to spend a bunch of time with, but they all have their character and quirks that set them apart from one another. This is true regardless of how much travel they have or whatever their spec sheet says. As of a few years ago it became pretty hard to say that such and such 120mm bike is a shitty climber, or how that 160mm machine is no good at descending - they're all much more capable than what the large majority of riders will ever need. But as good as most of them are, and as close as a lot of them may seem, they all ride very differently. Different quirks and different characters, you see.




I'm not trying to go all Zen on you, and bikes are just simple machines that, in a lot of ways, are less complicated than your microwave or television. Your $6,000 bike can't even warm up leftovers or record the ball game for you, but it can do things that are much more fun, and no two bikes, however similar, will do those things in the same manner. They all have different personalities, and it's usually a number of small details that come together to create that character, which is why two bikes that appear to be relatively similar actually have about as much in common as that microwave and television do. One mistake is to only look at the empirical data: the boring geometry charts and spec sheets. While they certainly tell part of the story, those numbers can't come close to telling you everything. The number most riders look at is travel. Years ago you could look at how much travel a bike had and make a pretty reasonable assumption not only about its intentions but also how it was probably going to perform. These days, it's more complicated than that.
This couldn't be framed any better than by two bikes you might have recently read about on Pinkbike: Kona's fantastic, ready-to-chuck Process 167 and Breezer's 160mm travel Repack. One is a pint-sized downhill bike, and the other is actually a long legged trail machine that scales mountains more efficiently than bikes that are an inch shorter on travel and slimmer by five pounds. I don't think that I have to explain which is which, either. Both have similar amounts of suspension, yet those numbers sum them up as a whole about as well as what you ate for dinner last night says about you as a person. I ate a massive burrito from Taco del Mar and then drank a sugar-filled energy drink, but I'm neither Mexican nor that sweet. I do apparently like bad food, however.


Quirks and flaws like those are why today's bikes are so interesting. Pretty much every bike I've spent time on over the last year has been impressive in one way or another, but none are perfect for how I ride on a daily basis. So, in no particular order, here are some bikes and their quirks that are relevant to how they're intended to be ridden, as well as to each one's competition: the Foxy is impossibly efficient and one of the best short-travel bikes to be on when things get sketchy, but it's also a handful at slow speeds and on tamer trails; the Habit is an awesomely fun all-rounder, but its Lefty fork is a bit behind compared to the best from FOX and RockShox; the Repack climbs like no other 160mm bike can, but its suspension is far too linear; the SB6C loves to smash through it all on the downs, but it's a handful on tech climbs compared to some other 160mm bikes; the Spartan stays glued to the ground like a basset hound with cement boots on, but that makes it not as playful as I'd prefer; the AMR Riot Lector is fun but far too nervous to really push hard; the fun and lively Lifeline isn't as planted and forgiving as some other DH sleds; the HD3 gets it nearly all right at the sacrifice of feeling a bit pointy on steep and scary descents; the Strive is a good stab at doing a lot of things really well, but its Shapeshifter system is too finicky and can feel like a crutch.

I know for a fact that none of those bikes are going to be perfect for you, even if they're all more bike than we might ever need, but one or more of them may have a quirk or two that you're happy to look past just because it's so damn good at other parts of the ride. And no so-called quirk or flaw is going to be viewed in the same light by two different riders, either. Maybe you and your tree trunk legs can easily overcome a poor pedaling bike, or maybe that sort of thing just doesn't matter to you because of where you live and how you ride. Sure, mountain biking is fun regardless of what we're on, but I've always found that I have the most fun when I match the bike and its setup to the terrain and how I ride.

That is the trick, of course, to find that one bike that best suits your trails and your riding style. Your "keeper" of sorts.

Or maybe you've already found your special bike. And if so, what quirks are you happy to ignore?