It's been nearly four months since Will Sytsma (owner of Hampshire Bicycle Exchange, in Amherst, MA) built a sleek pair of custom 29er wheels for my Salsa Mukluk (which I reported on here). The main reason I've posted so infrequently since then is that I've been out riding the dickens out of them, and having a blast learning to mountain bike.
It's been a gorgeous summer here in New
England, and I've been riding a lot on local trail systems large and
small, buff and rugged. Here are some of the conclusions I've drawn
from the experience.
First, the rigidity: It's wonderful! And...
it sucks.
It's wonderful that I have a quality
26-pound, 29-inch mountain bike; it climbs really nicely and the only
real limiter is in my lungs, not my legs. It's wonderful when I stand
and stomp, and the bike takes off like a rocket. When I lean into a
turn, nothing—I mean nothing—flexes. It's wonderful that I got
all of this for a mere five or so hundred dollars for the extra
wheels and tires.
It sucks when I go over endless tall
roots or "bony" (boulder-ridden) trails; my wrists,
hands, shoulders, and neck have taken quite the beating this summer. (Though the recent addition of ergonomic grips has helped a bit.) It sucks when I'm climbing for my life, hit a switchback, and my path
is obstructed by obstacles; where a suspended bike might allow me to
just roll over what's in the way, with this bike, I have to pick a
line right at the least opportune moment, when most of the weight's
on the back tire, I'm going 2 mph, and I'm already deep into a turn.
I'm a beginning mountain biker and I've
been watching how-to videos, sessioning trails, and practicing skills
in my backyard for months. As my abilities develop, I've been able to
lessen the impact of each of these problems, and I've really enjoyed
the ease and pride that come with the achievements. But when push
comes to shove, I'm 50 years old, and my body won't take the beating
forever. As I get better, I ride more advanced trails, and, around
New England, that means a lot of rugged stuff.
That's not changing until the next ice
age, which, by all indications, is quite some time off.
This report might be very different if
I'd written it about a more forgiving, all-steel bike. My frame
is aluminum, famous for its stiffness and harshness, and the Salsa Bearpaw fork is aluminum, too. The
custom wheels had to be dishless (because they're built on
wider-that-usual hubs to fit the fat bike dropouts), which means
they, too, are extra stiff. You can't get a much stiffer bike.
The geometry of the bike does help a
little with the rigidity problems. This isn't your typical 29er --
not even a typical fully-rigid one. It's built for unbeatable stability on soft or slippery
surfaces, which means that the wheelbase is long, the head tube angle
is a bit slacker than usual, and the chainstays are way out
there in la-la land. But in the end, the aluminum wins out, because
it doesn't flex much no matter how long it is. The long stays
and wheelbase do make handling stable—but that can also mean
sluggish, especially in moments when I really need a quick response
(as on the switchbacky climbs).
One possible bonus to the 29er Mukluk
set-up is that the stiffness and lightness help a
lot when I'm going straight up. Climbing is fast and made a bit less stressful by the low 22 x 34 lowest gear (suited to heavier tires and wheels).
In summary:
Am I glad I had the wheels built? You
bet. Have I learned more by learning to mountain bike on a set-up
that will feed back every tiny decision I make? Certainly. So let's
be honest: with all the limitations, I've had more fun than should be
legal on this version of the Muk. (The respect and interest it gets
at the trailhead doesn't hurt either; I've not seen one other
29er-converted fat bike all season.)
In the end, two facts sum up my rigid
29er Mukluk experience: (1) I've been shopping for a purpose-built
mountain bike for a month now; it would be full-suspension if I could
afford a decent one, but will likely end up being a hardtail. I'm so
looking forward to seeing how that suspension fork eases my riding
experience. (Much more on that bike when it comes to fruition.) (2)
Once I do find that bike, I really hope I don't have to sell the
Mukluk to afford it. I want to keep it, along with both fat
and 29er wheel sets, because (apart from the many ridiculous
joys of riding fat) there are certain extra-buff trails around here I'm always going to
love ripping on my unique, light, stiff 29er.
3 comments:
Nice writeup. I am glad to hear that most of the guys our age are still having a blast ripping single track
Now convert your bike to single speed and finish off the misery!
Todd, yeah, I call it "Smart guys doing stupid things." Thanks for visiting!
29er, think I'll wait til I'm sixty and celebrate with that bit of torture...
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