Sometimes I get bored.
Other times I just don’t like the trail.
And sometimes, I’m just on the wrong bike.
I used to hate to ride Prospector/Church Rocks. I found nothing interesting about the trail. It was slow, sluggish and made me tired without giving anything back. I would pedal to the top of one of the hills only to slowly ride back down to repeat. I avoided the trail almost as much as I now avoid Paradise Canyon. It was boring.
Then I rode it with ProZac on a Saturday morning on a bike that was being treated to its first bout of dirt. Suddenly, Prospector turned into a quick, flowy trail that left me with this strange sensation often known as fun. The ups were quick and I spun out on the back side grinning and laughing all the way to the next up. I had to stay on top of it to keep from missing a turn. I was hooked.
Now Prospector is one of my favorite local trails.
An Argument for Less
In the great impulse-buying society in which we reside, we are told time and time again that for us to be able to have fun or to have a certain experience, we must purchase the newest and the best that is currently available. Regardless of what we have experienced on what we currently own, there is no fix for the desire to have something new.
The first time a pedaled a rigid singlespeed on dirt I was hooked. After six weeks or so, I sold every other bike I owned and pedaled with a grin on my face for years. It was this rigid singlespeed that turned my sluggish trail into a fast, flowy love fest. This wasn’t a new feeling for me. I grew up on rigid bikes. They were the only bikes I could afford. All of the trails I rode until 2002 were on a rigid bike or a hardtail.
I fell in love with mountain biking well before I owned any suspension.
Sometimes that experience of just loving to ride is best found on the bike with the least bells and whistles. To feel every bump in the trail, have to strain up every climb and to watch the front wheel and precisely guide it through the rock gardens, this is how I learned to ride.
Less Maintenance
Not only do rigid singlespeed bikes offer an enjoyable alternative to the boing crowd, they also offer a serious advantage in the maintenance to riding time ratio. Maintenance on a singlespeed means you lube the chain and pump the tires up. Once a year you might want to tear the thing down and grease/tighten everything. Even this once a year maintenance will only take you about an hour.
And isn’t that the point of owning a bike, to be able to ride it.
Less is Sexy
There is something inherently beautiful about simplicity. No springs attached. No extra links in the chain to wrap around those movy things that change gears. No cables running the length of the bike to connect the levers to the movey things. Just simple round tubes, a couple of wheels, a set of cranks and some brakes.
I love the way a singlespeed chain looks as it symmetrically wraps around the chain stay.
And let’s admit it, if your bike is sexy, you will be sexy.
Less is Rebellious
Taking out all the marketing and hype from your ride is the equivalent of giving a double middle finger to the man. The man is the one propogating the need for new shiny parts. Eliminate the majority of those shiny parts and the man starts to fade into the back ground and you can, once again, just ride.
If I had to pick one thing about modern society that I despise, it would be marketing. Here’s my middle finger.
Less is Love
So give it a try. I will bet that if you swing your leg over a simple bike that you will find your boring trails transformed into fun and your life will be better. You will have more friends, more riding time and can afford that tattoo you’ve been wanting to show everyone just how rebellious you are.
What do you have to lose but your derailleurs?
P. L. and R.