Some miscellaneous mental ramblings

[velotel]

on mountain and gravel bikes. Not really something of particular interest on a forum like this but maybe a few will relate to the subject. I enjoy writing and started playing with this after seeing quite a bit of nostalgia on the net for old mountain bikes and the world back then, which as luck would have it was a sandbox I got to play in. Loved those times, the 80s and early 90s, perceived barriers crashing, ideas rocketing out of people’s heads, new stuff exploding like fireworks, crazy places to ride being discovered, all of it driven by a swarm of people hardly anyone had ever heard of before.

As much as I enjoyed those years, have to admit looking back isn’t my thing. Sort of the been there, did that, bought the t-shirt, time to move on kind of thing. But what’s rather cool is that what’s been happening with gravel bikes is kind of a replay of those early mountain biking days.

Lots of names for it - groading, graveling, fat-tire roading, maybe even droading, as in dirt roading because that’s what glues it all together, dirt. Regardless, gravel bike seems to be the universally accepted term for the bikes. Even here in Europe. Whatever it’s called it’s all about road bikes wearing fat tires being ridden on dirt.

Which isn’t new. Early Giro and Tour de France photos, road bikes on dirt. The Alps in the 50s, 60s, 70’s, road bikes on dirt. Marin County before mountain bikes, road bikes on dirt. Somewhat ironically a technology pushing precursor for today’s fat-tired road bikes came out of Marin County at the same time mountain bikes were happening, Charlie Cunningham’s fat-tubed, fat-tired aluminum bike with drop bars. He was doing the fire roads and trails of Mount Tamalpais while Joe, Charley, Gary, et al were pushing their bikes up Tam to race the Repack, only Charlie was riding up the mountain. I never rode a Cunningham but I always heard they were amazing, road bikes that ripped dirt.

I always liked the idea of drops on a mountain bike but I never rode one that felt dialed. There was some subtle disconnect between my position, which I loved, and the bike’s reaction to that position. I think the problem was that a frame designed for flat bars has a different sweet spot than a frame designed for drops so slapping drops on a frame designed for a flat bar shifted the rider’s center of mass away from the bike’s sweet spot. Worked fine on smooth terrain but when the trail turned technical things could get a little ragged. Or maybe it was just me. Somewhat strangely to my perspective is that I’ve been seeing quite a few flat bars going in the opposite direction, slapped onto road bikes, gravel and normal.

My current ride, a custom fat-tired road Eriksen, was designed for drops with a geometry tweaked for dirt. I told Kent I wanted the bike’s asphalt performance minimally compromised since typically my gravel rides are 70-80% paved. So I definitely wanted a bike that would smoke asphalt, which is exactly what Kent and Brad built, the best handling, feeling road bike I’ve ever been on. But even better the bike is a total wizard on dirt. Might be as good as any pure mountain bike I ever rode, including the custom Salsa Ross Shafer built for me. To be honest my Eriksen’s performance is better than mine, no matter what the surface.

But way beyond all the tech-head bike stuff, the real wizardry of these bikes is where they go, places no one dreamed of riding road bikes. Just like back in those early mountain bike days, exploring trails that cyclists never looked at. That, for me, was the glory of those early years. We were riding hiking trails, animal trails, jeep tracks, stuff never intended for bikes. There were trails around Crested Butte that I’d been running on for years, trails built by the CCC in the 30’s then mostly forgotten with many so little used they were literally disappearing, especially in the meadows. Those were the ones I started riding, grinning like an idiot the whole time. I mean I was riding in paradise and no one else was there! It was crazy. I’d be on top of some high ridge and laughing because I was in the middle of all that splendor and I was on a bike! Not pushing or carrying it, pedaling! Places like Double-Peak and Teocalli Ridge and Rosebud Gulch and the Colorado Trail. I mean who the hell ever imagined a bike could be ridden in those places! Those trails are probably considered pretty tame stuff today but back then they were popping circuit breakers.

And now it’s happening again, studying maps, looking for trails and jeep tracks leading into places I didn’t even know were there, places that boggle the gray matter. And I’m there on a road bike! Like on this single-track dancing along the top of a ridge above Lac de Roselend with Mont Blanc in the background! Or on this tight, smooth trail clinging to the slopes across the valley from La Meije, a stunning peak of ice and rock. Or on this devilishly sweet double-track in a forest of silence above Oulx in Italy. Rode ‘em all on a road bike wearing fat, soft tires.

Another parallel with those early mountain bike days is the can-I-ride-that challenge, do I have the technical skills and strength to ride my bike over that! I mean riding blacktop is hold-on, pedal, go. Dirt is all about technique, learned the hard way, with scars. Back in the day I’d ride a trail, fail to clean it, go back, do it again, and again. Trial and error, figuring out the moves, the balance, the line until everything came together and I’d flow over it. I loved those moments of addictive hyper-intensity, relished the thrill of cleaning a trail because I’d improved my skills, not because my bike’s technology had advanced.

I don’t know squat about full-suspension mountain bikes, other than that they’re obviously incredible. At my age I also have no interest in attempting to ride the kind of places (apparently trails aren’t even needed anymore) modern mountain bikes can go. My body couldn’t handle the crashes that happen on that kind of terrain, even armored up the way mountain bikers seem to be now. Plus there’s no way I’d put on all that armor. Hell, I still don’t even wear a damn helmet!

In other words the insanely talented modern mountain bike is way beyond my physical and mental capability. Fact is what people do with them scares the hell out of me. But I still love the rush of pushing my skill envelope, exploring tracks I know nothing about, riding trails I’ve done more times than I can count, flicking past trees, over rocks and roots, working the pedals against the brakes, lasering on the path ahead, head floating, watching, catching the flow, life a point of light, sharp and clean, on and on, until it’s gone, sounds rushing back into my head, looking up and wondering what just happened. For me it’s not about speed or extreme terrain or big air. It’s catching the wave, sliding into the rhythm, merging into the bike, the trail, the air itself, that, for me, is the golden mushroom under the fat-tired road bike’s rainbow.

The bike’s a bridge to new worlds, following tracks that might or might not be doable, on the fly improvisations, popping out of the woods into silver dollar views, flying down mountains on twisting slivers of gnarly blacktop, weaving over dirt tracks through vineyards, orchards, meadows, playing in that zone ignored by roadies because it’s too rough and ignored by mountain bikers because it’s too easy.

Gravel bike or groad machine, whatever you want to call a fat-tired road bike (I call mine a StonerBike, because it rolls over stones so well, also because the name makes me smile), go get one if you want a taste of what those early mountain biking days were all about. It’s different, but not all that different.

Some pics from past rides

[Spaghetti Legs]

Beautiful pictures.

I too, often reflect on the current trend of gravel bikes being a slight lateral shift from the same thought processes leading to the development of the mountain bike. I haven’t found the need to go whole hog with a gravel bike as squeezing somewhat bigger, more durable tires and a compact crank on a road bike meet my needs for standard, hilly gravel roads. I suspect a lot of people want gravel bikes to do the same thing we wanted from mountain bikes BITD, I.e, ride the bike on trails more suited to walking with the added ability to go fast on the smooth surfaces.

My first MTB was a rigid GT Tequesta in 1989. I was in college and I loved the bike as much, if not more, for the ability to go anywhere around town, like jumping curbs, etc, than the buzz of ripping through the local forest single track trails. I moved to SF in 1990 and by that time, there was a lot of pushback from hikers over the Marin County/ Mt Tam trails and several were even off limits to bikes. I routinely rode through the Presidio until the Park Service took it over and closed the best trails. I, too, would repeat stretches of trail, trying to nail it just right, both up and down, and it was doing one last run down a rocky descent around 2002, went over the bars and injured myself pretty badly (not permanently, fortunately) that I started to transition to exclusive road riding.

Pic of my typical off roading I do now. Off pavement maybe I should say.