Sunrise and Evolution

If I have learned anything over the past few months, it's that even after riding bikes my whole life there is always more to learn.

The human body can be both highly specialized and yet hugely adaptable if given a little time. I am a relatively fit cyclist, and I can hold my own against most people my age or even younger. Pit me against runners at a similar fitness level, and I would fail miserably. I simply don't use the same muscle groups or have the built up capillary infrastructure to deliver energy and oxygen to those running muscles.

When I first started riding the Jones, the position changed enough to where I struggled. I felt slow, and my first rides left my muscles feeling sore for about a week. New muscles were being utilized, and my body was trying to adapt. When it did adapt, I felt as fast and sometimes faster on the Jones.

As mountain bikers our genesis and evolution is a complex one. While the origin is often traced back to guys riding old clunkers, the guys who started making the first purpose-built frames had road racing backgrounds. So it's no mystery that the early mountain bikes looked a lot like road bikes. Compare my 1987 Fisher to my LeMond below it:

Short, horizontal top tubes, short head tubes and similar angles. We were forced to use ridiculously long stems to compensate, which made early mountain bikes endo machines. We endured these horrible bikes for quite some time because we didn't know any better.

Eventually someone broke the mold and sloped a top tube. Head tubes lengthened. Top tubes lengthened. Stems shortened. Head tube angles relaxed. The world rejoiced.

Which brings me to my recent experiments, which are all being performed in an effort to relieve some stress on my bad wrist and neck. I never intended for the Surly Sunrise bars to go on a conventional mountain bike. They simply looked cool and I thought they might be fun on my 26-inch travel bike. They sat unused for years.

Pain has a funny way of motivating you, though, especially when you are experiencing that discomfort doing something you love. The success of the Jones has opened my eyes to the "might as well try it" school of thought. I eyed the bars collecting dust in the corner of my office and thought, why not? Even if they are wider, taller and have more sweep than any riser bar I have ever used, why not?

On the first couple test rides around my home, they felt strange but not bad. The cockpit was shorter and much taller, and that alone may have been a deal breaker had the Jones not already prepared me for it. The 15 degree bend was a noticeable improvement, enough to relieve some pressure on my wrist but still feel like a riser bar. They were uncomfortably wide, though.

I used them for a real mountain bike ride today for the first time—23 miles on rolling terrain, mostly singletrack. When I rolled away from the car I actually didn't notice the bars at all. I adapted.



On the trail they were great. The entire ride was so much fun. I was really hauling ass down some descents, probably getting in over my head a couple times. But those big bars just made me feel invincible.

Climbing is certainly more upright, but not altogether horrible. On the few occasions when I felt like going fast I simply bent my elbows a bit and attained a more familiar climbing position. But you can also sit up and take a look around if you want, an option you don't have with a low-rise bar.

In the end my takeaway is this: There are a lot of ways to skin that cat. Striving to be more comfortable doesn't necessarily mean giving up speed and handling. In this case, handling and downhill speed actually improved.

So experiment, try different things, keep an open mind (which hasn't always been the case for me) and have fun.

Later.

The Sun Also Rises

I rode the Salsa with the newly installed Surly Sunrise bars today and it was fantastic. I haven't had so much fun riding in a while.

The bars felt too wide (820mm) and way too tall (83mm), but somehow they just worked.

There are a couple rocky downhills on my local ride and I hit them hard. I really felt like I was flying.

The downside there is climbing feels a bit odd being up so high, but after a while I didn't care anymore. Going fast downhill sometimes outweighs going slow uphill.

Ultimately what I was testing was the 15-degree bend, and that was a success. It wouldn't seem like an extra five degrees would make much difference, but it did. My wrist was pretty happy and I didn't feel like handling was affected at all.

Ultimately something similar but not as wide or tall will probably be my landing spot.

Later.

Tahoe Plus

We took a quick overnight trip up to Tahoe to see my dad. Even though I would only have time for one short ride, and even though that one short ride requires so much equipment, I went for it anyway.

I brought the Mason plus bike because I was dying to see how it performed in the late summer sand that prevails in the area. It did not disappoint.

I rode my favorite loop, which entails a road climb, singletrack along a ridge, and a descent down Tunnel Creek Road.

The climb up the road on three inch tires wasn't especially fun, but you just have to settle in for the long haul and realize that the good stuff is coming.

Once I turned onto the sandy singletrack, the long climb was forgotten. Plus sized tires are a perfect match for Tahoe terrain. After just a few turns I acclimated to how the bike handled in the decomposed granite, and I was motoring along. The trail is like a roller coaster, and with the Diamondback there was no flying off the rails.

There are two steep, sandy pitches on the trail that I have never cleaned on the same ride. I made it up one of them on my fat bike once, and that is it. On the Mason I made it up both.

On the descent I flew down at a responsible but fast speed. Tunnel Creek gets very sandy late in the season, but it wasn't much of an issue. This is one area where the fat bike is actually faster and more fun, but the plus is still very good.

The industry is moving towards narrower plus tire sizes after originally starting at three inches, and that is probably a good thing. After riding the Krampus and Mason for a while, I think a full three-inch tire is overkill for most situations. However, there will always be places where big tires are the way to go, and Tahoe is one of them.

Later.

Freemason

Hmm, I am running out of "mason" references.

Yesterday I took the Diamondback out to Salmon Falls. The last time I rode there I found the terrain to be a bit rough, so I figured it would be a good proving ground for the 27-plus bike.

The bike is still stock except for new grips, which were too thin and hard for my liking. I also converted the tires to tubeless. The rims were already taped, so it was simply a matter of removing the tubes, inserting the valve and adding some sealant. The tires aired right up. By far my easiest conversion to date. The stock tubes were very thick and heavy, and removing them saved 1.5 pounds. Nice.

Since I bottomed out once on the last ride on a much mellower trail, I ran a bit more air pressure due to the rocky nature of Salmon Falls. Right off the bat I noticed a huge improvement in the way the bike felt even with more air pressure. Tubeless tires simply perform better. Losing 1.5 pounds of rotating weight certainly doesn't hurt, either.

I am having a hard time finding any negatives with the 27-plus platform. It might be a little slower than a 29er in some situations, but I can't even say that for sure. To truly compare I would need to have two bikes of equal quality, and the Mason Trail doesn't stack up to my other bikes from that standpoint. Still, it holds its own.

The first part of the ride is mostly flat trail cut into a steep hillside, with plenty of rocks. It's my least favorite part of the ride, but the fat tires made it much better. Almost fun. On the very first downhill I opened it up and let it fly. I can honestly say I have never gone faster on that section. The slack angles and big tires changed my normal hardtail approach from "picking good lines" to simply plowing over everything. It's a different way to ride, and not without merit.

After some fun up-and-down singletrack comes the grind up Flagstaff, which climbs 675 feet in 1.6 miles. Years ago it was a fast fire road downhill, but today it better resembles a rocky, rutted, overgrown creek bed. I spent much of the first half in the 30x36 gear, but had to drop into my lowest gear (30x40) a couple times. I think for the most part I can get up any climb with the single ring setup, especially with the crazy traction of the plus tires.

The second half isn't as steep or rocky. The view from near the top:

The last steep stretch:

After a paved downhill is the back section, which is a fairly smooth stretch except for all the gopher/squirrel holes. If you've ever ridden a squirrel-holed trail, you know it can be a speed sapping experience. It's here where I noticed the flotation of the tires the most.

As I was motoring along, I caught up to a guy on a carbon fiber Stumpjumper FSR. He looked down at my bike, and the look on his face said, "Did this dude just catch me on that Walmart bike?" Yes. Yes, he most certainly did.

I passed him and he jumped on my wheel for a quarter mile or so. On a slight rise I hit the gas and I heard him gurgle something to the effect of "ughndwuh" and drop anchor. Bye now!

After that you enter a section with twisty, flowing trail. It's slightly downhill and fast. I had a blast testing the limits of traction in the corners.

With two rides now on vastly different terrain, I will say this: I think the 27-plus platform is the future. It's that good. You retain the rollover of the 29er diameter, have similar flotation to the 29-plus tire, yet eliminate some of the 29-plus heft I experience with the Krampus.

The ability to have one bike that can run a fast wheelset (29er) and a bomber wheelset (27-plus) is pretty cool, too. And for the most part you don't lose a lot when running the 27-plus wheels anyway. I haven't tried a 27-plus full suspension yet, but the three-inch tires definitely negate many of the drawbacks of a hardtail bike. It's just enough float to take the sting out of the trail.

More to come. Later.

Stonemason

This morning I swapped out the flat pedals for clipless, taped up the chainstay and installed the GPS mount in preparation for a ride. I have never used a stem as short as 60mm, so the GPS had to go on the bar. It looks weird after always seeing it centered on the stem for so long.

I went out to do a loop in Granite Bay, which is my typical testing ground for new bikes. I parked in El Dorado Hills and rode the Brown's Ravine trail as a connector.

The terrain is mostly rolling with a handful of steep climbs. Soil conditions are sand and silt over hardpack for the most part.

My expectations for this bike were somewhat low considering my experience with the Krampus, a 29 plus bike that is a pondering beast. I figured the Mason would be a blast on downhills and below average everywhere else. Still, I bought it hoping for more.

Goofing around the driveway last night with flat pedals, I thought maybe my assumptions were wrong. It sure felt quicker and more agile than the Krampus, even with the seemingly ridiculous 66-degree head tube angle.

This morning, once my familiar Time pedals were installed and the seat height dialed in, I immediately felt comfortable. Again, after looking at the geometry chart and seeing the straight post and short stem, I assumed a cramped, upright position. Nope. I was quite comfortable in a familiar seated position. Weird.

On the trail it felt like a bike. I say this as a compliment. Once I hit the dirt I really forgot I was on a brand new bike. There was no learning curve or adjustment period. Hills came and I climbed them. Turns came and I carved them. Descents came and I bombed them. After about 30 minutes, I thought to myself, This is what we should have been riding years ago.

As the ride progressed, and I pushed the bike harder in the turns, I noticed quite a bit of tire squirm. The rims are only 30mm wide, and I really think 40mm should be the bare minimum for a plus sized tire. At the pressure I was running, which provided incredible traction and flotation, the sidewalls were not getting enough support in turns. This would really be my only major complaint with the component choices. In my own experiments with rim and tire width, you simply must use a wide rim to get them most performance out of wide tires.

Everything else worked OK considering the price point. Shifting was perfect. The brakes leave a little to be desired, but hopefully they will improve after more break-in time. The fork is adequate.

It's only been one ride, and I just wanted to get some quick thoughts down, but so far so good. I like it.

Later.

Masonite

The new bike showed up this afternoon and I had it together in about 90 minutes. There are a few cheap components I wouldn't be thrilled with on a $1400 bike, but for $750 I can't complain.

There are a number of technologies I am using for the first time. The wheels are 27 Plus with 110x15 Boost spacing:

In the rear a 148x12 Boost thru-axle:

Boost 148 spacing on the cranks, too, of course:

And, believe it or not, my first hydraulic brakes:

This bike also has a 66 degree head angle, by far the slackest bike I have ever owned. Paired with fairly short chainstays and a long top tube, it will be interesting to see how it rides. The plan is to put it through its paces tomorrow.

Later.

Masonry

I bought this tonight:

I purchased it here on sale for $750 and free shipping. Too good to pass up. Should be fun.

Later.