Why Your Wheel Size Doesn't Matter

Say what you will, but I'm a loyal 26" rider.

I also ride 24" wheels. And 27.5. And on the occasional demo day where I'm feeling a bit dangerous, I'm a 29"er fan.

But really, in the big picture, none of it matters. Hell, we could all be rolling around on unicycles mounted atop cinder blocks and it wouldn't be a big deal, because riding bikes isn't about the wheel size or the total MSRP price of our rigs or those fancy carbon bars or that 2036 FOX Airship Float Fork you've got installed... It's about fun.

As kids, putting playing cards in our spokes wasn't about the 'bling' factor or about how aero we were with squares of stiff paper catching each other. It was about the NOISE we could make! Attaching life jackets to our frames and arm floaties on the handlebars wasn't about how 'cool' we were with THE new fangled BUOYANT FRAMES (!!!) we had invented; it was about making sure those steel-framed bicycles floated back to the top of the lake after we hurled ourselves off of any surface available so that we could do it all over again. It was all for the fun. It was about the smiles and the high fives and the ice-cold grape sodas that brought tears to our eyes and nose when we thirstily gulped them too fast.

In this day and age of race times, KOMs and the never-ending challenge of having the fanciest/fastest/lightest rig on the mountain, it's easy to lose sight of it all.

What happened to just jumping on our bikes and pedaling out? What changed from the denim cutoffs and sleeveless cotton t-shirts to logo-ed out Lycra suits or colorful, lightweight pajamas with our names across the shoulders? What happened to the 'all for one and one for all' mantra? In the midst of the mergers and the tech advances and the wheel size debates and that whole equal-payout fight, have we forgotten the spirit of our sport? Have we forgotten that regardless of skill, appearance, age, gender or equipment setup, we are all equals in the pursuit of a singular happiness?

No matter what version we'd like to believe of who brought mountain biking to planet earth and when and where, it was created by some dummy (or a bunch of dummies) who decided that spending time amidst nature on challenging trails in the mountains was far superior to riding hot, smelly pavement squished between 1,000-pound vehicles down in the polluted valleys. These same dummies figured out that rocks are fun and really dangerous, and that trees usually won't yield to even the most skilled rider -- you'll break before they will. Those early mountain biking pioneers discovered the triumph of besting a grueling climb and the thrill of the epic descents. They figured all they needed was a frame and that skill, luck and a little jimmy-rigging would suffice for most of the problems presented. When skill, luck and jimmy-rigging didn't work, hiking out usually did.

The other guys on the trail weren't losers or our enemies because they had more baling twine or less hackneyed work; we were all friends because we were on BIKES. Our differences ended at the trailhead, because we were all the same. Fast, slow, rich, poor, fat, skinny, smart or dumb, everyone had their strengths and weaknesses. The mountain is the great equalizer, and the trail is a non-denominational deity. Another cyclist is an ally, and not because he or she rocks a full face helmet with Enduro-specific scoops and camera mounts. That other rider is an ally because they're a fellow bike lover and that's it. 'Gaper', 'noob', 'pro' or 'legend' labels all disappear when we look at anyone on a bike as a friend, and that's how it should be. Anyone on a bike is one more person to high five, one more person to share a grape soda with and one more person who might know what to do when you crack that egg mounted on your neck open and you're bleeding all over those fancy shoes.

Our bikes, competition and technology may have evolved, but the fun of our sport never will: it's still about the stupid stunts and the grins and the dirt and a cold beverage with our buddies... And at the end of the day, the last thing we should be talking about is the superiority of our goddamn wheel size.