Are bikes so good nowadays that they're boring? Is there something to be said for a bike that may be flawed but is full of character?I'm extremely blessed to be able to call this thing I do a job; riding the newest bikes like they're rental cars that I've taken out under an alias and then telling you guys what I think about them is a fun gig. And I don't take this opportunity for granted, but the more new bikes I ride, the more I find myself looking back and appreciating the unique details, the things that give a bike character, of the machines that I used to own long before I was able to ride whatever pricey test rig might be in my stable right now. No, I wouldn't want to be still on any of them - today's bikes are far better, and I have more fun because of that - but I can certainly appreciate certain aspects, mostly visual, of those bygone bikes now more than ever.
This growing sentimentalism about bikes I used to own could simply be what happens after a few decades of riding. Then again, the reason for my nostalgic thoughts might also not have anything to do with mountain bikes at all - parts of my youth may have conditioned me to believe that character counts for at least a few points of awesomeness, even if it comes at the expense of overall performance. There's a reason that everyone loves a three-legged dog, right?
While a lot of kids grow up in cookie-cutter houses in or near a culdesac, probably playing street hockey or generally being neighborhood terrors, I was fortunate to spend the first eighteen or so years of my life on a big slice or semi-wild property that was surrounded by many acres of more semi-wild forest, with an old, drafty house on that land that my family called home. Picture a heritage house from the 1950s, all white and with blue shutters, a big porch out front, and a drunk looking woodshed nearby that somehow refused to fall despite a curious lean. It was a place that was full of character, especially the house itself.
| This bike is perfect, and it's also perfectly boring. It's kinda like a well-trained dog with all of its legs, whereas those old bikes were all like three-legged stray dogs that might be friendly but also might bite you. |
The thing that stands out most in my memory were its big windows, which I admit does sound odd. All of them were leaded glass and single-pane, none of this energy efficient stuff you see nowadays, and it felt like the wind passed right through them during cold winter storms. Sure, they may have done a piss poor job of keeping the heat inside the house that was coming from the old wood stove, but they're also one of the reasons that place was so special - they made the house look like it was lifted straight out of an old movie. Any sane person would have had them replaced, but I don't think my family ever entertained the idea of committing such a crime.
Those old windows, along with a lot of other things about where I grew up, might be why I can look back fondly on other, far from perfect things from the past. This includes some of the bikes that I've owned over the years. Few of these machines were amazing for their time, and some of them were actually pretty terrible, but I can appreciate certain details on some of them.
After a series of entry-level and completely forgettable bikes that I either broke or plain wore out, I ended up with a brand new Giant ATX 1 DH that, despite sporting the same amount of travel as today's modern all-mountain bike, was far too much bike for me at the time. Most people who own downhill bikes today don't actually need them, and that was just as true back in 2000 when I didn't need the one I owned. The Giant's boxy frame tubes never really won anyone over when it came to its appearance, but I'll never forget being fascinated by the finger-thick downtube that looked out of this world at the time. Calling it a tube is probably a stretch - I think it might have been solid judging by how much the frame weighed - but this skinny little downtube simply made the bike for me.
As anorexic as it appeared, the sight of that little tube inspired confidence. After all, just imagine how strong the rest of the frame must be if the designers at Giant believed that the bike barely even needed a downtube! Or something.
I rode the piss out of that yellow and red Giant and then ended up selling it for not enough money after a few years in order to pick up the second generation Santa Cruz Super 8, a single-pivot downhill sled that bears absolutely zero resemblance to anything Santa Cruz does these days. It was far too much bike for me, even in my early twenties when my beans were at their biggest and I thought I was invincible. The big '8 never really blew me away with anything it did on the trail, but I still find myself thinking about how massive and imposing the bike's swingarm looked back then. Sure, it was really just two sheets of aluminum with a few stiffening ribs and some connecting lattice work, and I'm not all that positive that the bike was even that stiff, but the swingarm looked like it was lifted right off of a dirt bike.
Appearances count for a lot when you're in your twenties, and while the bike may have handled like a monster truck with only three wheels and my skills didn't match the travel it had, I'll never be able to look at another bike's rear-end without thinking ''Meh, still not as cool looking as my old Super 8.''
Those two bikes, along with a few dozen more that I owned, would be considered terrible if they were brand new today. And so would the countless other bikes from years ago, but I'm sitting here, looking at this $7,000 carbon fiber super-bike that I'm in the process of evaluating and thinking that it's... boring. Yes, it's light, performs so well that reviewers like me have had to shift our standards of what's good and what's bad, and it looks great, but it just doesn't have any character compared to those old and flawed bikes that came long before it. I know that if I bought this bike, I'd be very happy with everything about it, but I also know that I'd sell it in a few years time and probably never even think about it again.
This bike is perfect, and it's also perfectly boring. It's kinda like a well-trained dog with all of its legs, whereas those old bikes were all like three-legged stray dogs that might be friendly but also might bite you.
My job is to tell you about a bike's strengths and flaws, and I think that I'm supposed to always want better-performing equipment. Regardless, there's part of me that wishes there were more three-legged stray dogs to ride and write about.
bring back 26" wheels and rough trails please, it was more fun then
www.kickstarter.com/projects/1106708179/lichen-bikes
I don't dare build her up and ride her again because I have serious suspicions that my rose coloured memories will be wiped away when I realise it handles like a pig in a snowstorm and takes bumps like a hardtail with a flat tyre. So I'm just gonna carry on pretending to myself that its still as perfect as I thought it was 10+ years ago when I had no idea what a bike could really feel like.
One day, when I own my own house, she's going on the wall in the living room. Wearing the old Monster-T's she used to wear, in super clashy orange. God they really were shite...
WOAH, WOAH, WOAH
If you're hucking your Balfa you're doing it wrong. It was a pure breed race bike in its time, and still my go-to Whistler bike.
(I win the weight contest at 67lbs)
www.pinkbike.com/photo/10338244
http://www.bioradiations.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/green-blank-name-tag.jpg
She was a tank and amazingly the wheels rolled over stuff ok!
www.pinkbike.com/photo/8439909
The funny thing is there is a disconnect between the smoother trails that are being built and the increased ability of the bikes. Trails should be getting harder, not being turned into glorified BMX tracks.
I get this, I have a truly fantastic Yeti SB66, it is great, best bike I have ever owned but I can't imagine ever giving it a name.
Daily 30 mile rides..rain? Don't give a shit. Cold and rain? Eh...I'll deal. Super hot? Even better...good to clean out the internals with soaking sweats!
Multitudes of riding buddies all super amped to get out and ride..jump everything we saw.
I can't even recall how many snapped components I went through...cranks, bars, spindles, derailleurs...bent forks, crushed frames, tacoed wheels---cool thing was my buddy at the bike shop would get everything warrantied for me so I always got fresh upgrades--SWEET!(very helpful considering I barely had $5 to my name most of the time)
My bikes were part of my identity and I rode to work, stood in the walk in cooler to cool off so I wouldn't drip sweat onto someone's turkey club or pizza. Even when I'd go out drinking or to a club I'd often ride(which can also explain the amount of road rash I had).
Travels and nutty adventures, new friends, great stories and experiences..I could go on about how great it all was and how those "old" bikes shaped me and made me the rider i am today, but fact is I LOVE new bikes! I've lost track with how many bikes I've owned now. I built up a modern steel hardtail with 140 travel last year then sold it--Just couldn't get back into it. Slack, longer travel..aggressive geo is where it's at for me now..oh, and rear shock!
This weekend I'm doing the 14th run of a 70 mile race/ride in the town where all this began for me, seeing buddies that pushed me to ride longer and faster...some still racing incredibly fast, others still fast but couldn't give two shits about race results(where I stand), others just along to cruise and enjoy the pain! Many on rigid hardtails with incredibly goofy set ups(by PB standards), but I'll be riding my '15 Transition Scout---my newest bike and after all these years and bikes, my favorite. I guess all it comes down to is bikes are cool. Riding bikes is cool...and fun. Old or new...as long as the wheels spin and the brakes work...good to go!
At one point I had xt road wheels built for it sun m14 rims triple butted spokes and scott AT4 bars and spesh 53 tooth front chain ring.. It made a surprisingly good road bike for a few years.
TLDR: Now to try and wrap it up: Id argue the main reason bikes feel boring, isnt that they are perfect, its that we have hit a huge plateau in terms of gains (bro do you even lift?). Materials are getting lighter by grams not pounds, faster by seconds not minutes. At the end of the day a bike is a bike its a simple mechanical device and it can only improve so much before diminishing returns kicks in.
That being said I still get off on how light and incredibly strong new components are. It also might be because I was born in 1991? Im not gen x but im not a millennial ya know? Im like a bastardization of the two. Somewhat nostalgic but always look forward to advancements. "Gen y!"
Same way with surfboards and anything else we "play" on or with I imagine
I'm not racing. I'm riding to find my limits and push them. On what I've to ride nearby I could easily get hold of a modern high performance "enduro" bike and never get close to my limits. May look cool on camera but to me it would feel like a waste of time (and money as these aren't cheap). At the other end of the spectrum my MUni (mountain unicycle) bucks me off on any root or drop where I'm not fully concentrated. Sure fun but doesn't look cool at all (though I still do get kudos from mountainbikers on the trail who assume it is really difficult). If you'd review my DMR hardtail it'd be full of flaws. Let me guess. The 26.8mm seatpost is too thin for any dropper post and at 71 degrees too slack for seated climbing (because, what happened to just leaving the saddle down and stand up climbing again?). The flex in the frame would not be confidence inspiring and the head angle would be so steep that you actually need skills to make it down technical descends. So now we got this new Trailstar that requires Alpine terrain to meet your limits. Yet how is it actually doing on the trails?
I would think that being 'spoilt', having the ability to access so much high end (and near similar) equipment would make you find that the bike is everything but boring.
F1 drivers don't think their cars are fast, perhaps you need to take a week off reviewing a bike, and ride a huffy at your local in Squampton.
Then a 4 year stint on an alloy Enduro 29, which was totally out of character for me. Totally utilitarian. Reasonably priced (though not after I replaced pretty much everything on it but the frame), fit great, rode super well and took a ton of abuse. I just retired it for a shiny new Evil carbon wonderbike which is truly beautiful. It's a work of art that has rekindled that weird awe and joy of running exotica.
/goride
Not mine but same bikehttps://www.google.com/search?q=2003+orange+sub+5&client=ms-android-att-us&biw=360&bih=559&prmd=sivn&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj-9IzGusLLAhVHOSYKHWTTCjkQ_AUIBygC#tbm=isch&q=orange+sub+5&imgrc=Wgbf-yFAS2vu1M%3A
That's the love I have for my Univega RAM9 DH.
(I'd probably shit myself over half of 2016 perfectly boring bikes).
Who's lucky, you or me? =]
The downtube is indeed massive aluminium alloy, no tubing.
I started riding MTBs in the early 90s, on a used Trek Singletrack 970. Awesome bike for the day. Got front suspension on it after a while. Had a lot of fun. Then moved from Austin (where MTB was my substitute for windsurfing, my main thing) to the Bay Area (where windsurfing was actually happening - so not much MTB). Didn't ride for real again until 2010 (then in Bellingham - had lived here for 7 years before getting out on Galbraith - yep, still shaking my head). Did so on hard tail Trek from around 2005. The thing was sooooo much nicer than the old Trek. Different sport. But after a year of happily riding my hardtail, I tried someone's modern FS trail bike - and never looked back; different sport, again.
My current bike (just bought it) is more comfortable, more playful, more confident. As an all-around trail bike, it's head and shoulders above what was available back in 2011. Would I still have fun on the bike I bought then? Sure. But this is way better. And compared to what I rode before then? Hell yeah.
This is not unique to MTB. Skis went through a huge transformation in the 90s (I missed that by transitioning into snowboarding - only got back to it in 05). So then in the mid 2000s, things leveled off - but there's still change. Not as dramatic - but today's hybrid camber/rocker profile fat skis make excellent one ski quivers. My current skis are as good as the dedicated in-bounds semi-fat all mountain ski and the rockered powder ski they replaced in those skis respective preferred conditions.
Windsurfing (my main sport) - same thing (won't bore you with that - too arcane for people not in the sport).
The key here is that in all three of these sports, today's gear does more, over a broader range of conditions/usage, than ever before. So today, you can have one bike that is fun to pedal around on rolling singletrack (what we used to call XC) and climbs pretty well, but still descends as confidently as bikes of yesteryear that are 15 pounds heavier and would have you pushing them uphill. That means more fun, more of the time, on one bike.
Yes, we all had fun on gear from way back when. But when Mike wants to go out for a ride to blow off some steam after work (as opposed to, say, have a nostalgic little reunion with his favorite bike of 15 years ago), do you really think he'll go for the three legged dog?
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www.kickstarter.com/projects/1106708179/lichen-bikes
Go watch an SX racer riding his bike at 110%