My nephew, Cason, works at the shop with me. He has for a few years. It’s had it’s ups and downs but overall he’s turned out to be a damn good employee who knows his shit and is always stoked to help out people who don’t. I’ve spent a lot of time working with him and watching him learn. I was stoked when he decided to not move away and instead go to college here in SG and continue to work at the shop.
The other day he asked me what bike I thought he should get. He was interested in the Enduro and wanted to know if he should get a 26 or a 29. I said that for me I liked the 26 because it was a little shorter and more maneuverable. He said that all the wrenches had been telling him the same thing, but all the sales guys were pointing him toward the 29. He felt that the bigger tire, for his skill set, would be more advantageous by being more stable and rolling over things better. I said, “Get a 29er then. It’s a bike. It really doesn’t matter.”
If you look into the distance of that picture you can see Z descending down Little Purgatory. This happened the other morning. It was my day off and Z didn’t have to be to work till noon. I had been jonesing to ride Babylon with KB ever since we took the dogs down to the river a couple of Sundays ago. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had a day that it had worked out. I was also anxious to get trail beta for the guide book. You know, it was work.
I picked up Z at 8 and we rolled out. We hit the trail about a half hour later and then both struggled up the 5 mile rocky, steep climb. We hiked-a-bike. We both ended up in our easiest gear, but after it all we both made it to the top where we enjoyed the view and got stoked for the downhill. We dropped into the rocky descent.
Z is a better rider than I and dropped me pretty quick. Plus something went into my spokes and I had to stop and investigate. When we regrouped at the bottom we both had the same stories to tell. We both missed turns. We both felt a little shaky in spots and we both had a fucking blast riding downhill.
Z rides a Stumpjumper Evo 29 and I was on my Enduro 26.
I’ve been riding my Enduro a lot lately. This is for a few reasons. First, I’ve been out on the mesas quite a bit. Second, the people I have been riding with tend to be on longer travel bikes. It’s more fun to keep the equipment equal. If I ride my single speed with a bunch of people on squishy bikes, it kind of throws a kink in the ride. And of course, the opposite is true.
My single speed is a 29er full stiffy. The Enduro is a 26″ bike that also enjoy a lot. I’ve been a proponent of the benefits of 29″ wheels for a long time. It was the catalyst for the rebirth of the hardtail. The first ride on my Raleigh, all those years ago, I was totally blown away at the traction I could get, not to mention the extra bit of squish that made rocking a rigid bike more fun.
Yet, I still own a 26″ bike.
Benjammin’ and I went out and hit the Barrel Ride this afternoon. If there is any trail in SG that was specifically designed for the Enduro, this is it. I usually ride my single speed, but seeing that Ben rocks an Enduro, I threw mine on the back of the truck and out we went.
This was Ben’s first trip around the Barrel Ride. For those of you familiar with the trail, you know it’s a grind. You climb, and then climb some more. Go downhill and then climb some more. The downhills are steep, rocky and techy. I’ve certainly witnessed my fair share of carnage on the lines dropping into the washes. It’s a great test for what a bike can and cannot do.
We headed up the wash, grinding the little gears. I made sure Ben knew where the original lines were. Of course, I didn’t explain to him why I wasn’t following the obvious lines until we were to the top. He got it. I didn’t have to go into detail about why sanitizing trails is a bad idea or why I fight the norm and still ride the wash the way it was ridden a decade ago; up the ledges, over the rocks and in the bottom.
He understood where we were going when he looked up and saw the top of the mesa. I had to pour some salt on that wound and tell him we would be climbing the mesa three times. It’s always best to prepare people so when it’s all over and done they think, “That wasn’t that bad.”
When we finally got to the top, we stopped. We sat down on the rocks and drank the beers we had hauled up there. The sun was starting to set and Pine Valley was calling both our names. We talked about the mountain. We sipped IPAs and swatted the gnats. I hate gnats.
Then we giddily headed down the single track. I feel confident saying we both had a kick ass ride. His Enduro is a 29er…
Bikes are bikes. Each one has its nuances, its benefits, its disadvantages. Once you purchase a bike, the wheel size debate will fade into the back of your head. Or at least it will if you stay off the forums and ride your two-wheeled love machine instead.
It’s a bike. Size really doesn’t matter.
P. L. and R.
