As I've blogged in the past, apparently
in narcissistic fashion, I've been doing
a fair amount of mountain biking these past few months. I rode several times a week during the fall, and found it a fun way to exercise, improve my cardio, thicken my thighs, and lose weight. I've done it less often since then, mostly due to regular rain and having a gym membership for the past 2 months, but I still enjoy biking from time to time.
That time is probably going to become a lot more frequent in the immediate future, since my dad kindly offered to buy me a new mountain bike as a graduation present. I'd been riding one he gave me years ago, when he had to stop offroading after some minor back surgery, and it was not the most modern cycle. It wasn't new in this millennium, weighed a ton, lacked any sort of shocks or modern brakes or gear shifters, and had taken enough wear that the back tire was taco'ed to the point that it rubbed the frame a bit each revolution, no matter how I tried to adjust the rear sprocket.
I rode it all the same, and took particular pride in passing younger men on far newer bikes, especially going uphill. In fact, I thought the old, heavy, slow, friction-testing bike was kind of a good thing. After all, my goal was to get exercise, not race, and if my bike was slower and took more work to ride uphill on, I got that much more of it.
Still, when offered a new bike I didn't hesitate to accept, in no small part since my old bike was non-functional. The piece that clamps the chain into a circle snapped off one day while riding, giving me a several mile walk back to my car. It then proved irreplaceable; my bike is so old that it's got a 7 speed rear sprocket, and they don't even sell those anymore. Everything is 8 or 9 or 10 speed now, (On the rear, and usually 3 speed in the front. Multiply to discover the total number of speeds, quite a few of which are redundant.) and the local bike shop I queried didn't have any 7 gear chains or chain connectors. They said an 8 speed should work, since the space between the links in the chain was the same. I bought one, it only cost $4, but it wouldn't fit. My chain was too wide, so the little locking posts couldn't quite fit into each other properly. I took it back and they said I could get a new rear gear and matching chain, or look at used bike stores or online to find the part I needed.
I did... nothing, since it seemed ridiculous to spend $100 on new parts for such an old bike. I did mention the issue to my dad at least, which probably served as some of the impetus for him to seize upon a new bike as a worthwhile graduation present.
I was glad to hear his offer, and I even took a couple of weeks to semi-research my vouchered purchase. I didn't learn much; there are tons of sites and enthusiast forums offering reviews on bikes, but there are countless models and types, the vast majority were laughably out of my price range ($3k+ is not a lot to pay for a good bike, these days), and opinions differed widely and wildly. (And they all met both criteria of the asshole simile.)
I did visit a local bike shop, the one that didn't stock 7-speed chain connectors, and there got a salesdude to talk me through the options. Sadly, that wasn't of much help, since the options were too esoteric. The clerks would rhapsodize on Shimano 9 vs. 10
cassettes, and look somewhat disgusted when I had no idea what a "cassette" was, (it's the 8 or 9 gear sprocket that goes on the rear wheel.) much less what material or manufacturer I preferred.
I'd ask them what the difference was between the $400 and $700 and $1100 bikes by the same manufacturer, and they'd gesture expansively and say, "The components."
"So what's the difference between a $50 and $300 cassette?" I'd ask, glibly showing off the new lingo.
"Oh, materials, manufacturer, tooth settings." they'd reply. Which, of course, told me nothing I couldn't have guessed.
"So between these two," I'd counter, pointing to the $500 and $1000 bikes on the rack, "Which would you get?" And when they invariably said the more expensive one, I'd ask why, and what made it worth $500 more. "Better components. It would ride better." they'd reply, which again, really told me nothing.
I can see why there are price differences in cars; more engine power, leather seats, security system, convertible, alarm, etc. But bikes? They're just wheels with gears and a chain, and they're all about the same size, with the same tires, virtually identical number of speeds, etc. Yet some are $300, and others are $8000. Some have shocks and such, but you're still sitting on it and pedaling. What's the big difference? In the end, a lot of it came down to brand name preference, apparently. The $3000 frame is the $700 frame with a different $.04 sticker on it. I understood that sort of thing when I was 12 and the new kid in school and had to wear whatever brand names the cool kids wore, in an effort to, if not fit in, at least not get bullied as much. But do grown adults really spend enough money to feed (or arm) African villages for imperceptible differences on brand name parts that fit inside their bikes, where no one will ever see them or know they're there?
Yes,
yes they do.
Eventually, and appropriately, my choice was made on somewhat irrational grounds. I looked online and found several bike shops in San Rafael, and resolved to visit a few of them last weekend, to compare prices and get a feel for what sort of recommendations and guarantees they offered. The first one I headed to was no longer in that location and Mike's Bikes had closed at 2pm since it was some sort of religious holiday, so back I headed to Performance Bikes, which I knew of only since it was in the shopping center beside Trader Joe's, and after another fairly fruitless survey of the available stock I settled on/picked at random a GT Avalanche. Here's a picture of it leaning against Jinxie's scratching post.
What's that you say? You can't make out anything more than that it's gray, and that I've got a ridiculous quilt on my futon/couch? Well join the crowd; I hardly know anything more about it and I own the damn thing. I do know that it rides awesome, though when compared to the two-wheeled plow I'd been riding before, that's not a real discerning recommendation.
The bike has those clamp in pedals that require matching metal clamps on the bottom of the shoes. I'd never used a bike with those before, but my dad's had some for years and he swears by them, despite the occasional road rash created by a critical moment inability to disengage his feet from said clamps. I hesitated a bit, since where I ride a critical moment foot lock could lead to a Wiley E. Coyote-like fall, rather than just road rash, but most of the mountain bikes had the clamp pedals, so I figured if other people are surviving with them, I could to.
Happily, they're no problem. I've ridden twice so far, a test ride on pavement Sunday evening [which was to last 10 minutes and instead went about 15 miles, since the bike rode so nicely and smoothly (it's the components)], and a longer dirt trails ride Monday, and I had no trouble getting my feet out every time I wanted to. Better yet, they never came out when I didn't, and that was frequently a problem with my old bike, even though it had
straps the foot slid into. I'd hit a really rough patch of rock or hard dirt, especially when trying to crank hard uphill, and one foot would just bounce right out and off the pedal. That never happened on the new bike, though that was due as much (or more) to the front shocks than the pedal clamp.
I didn't get full suspension, since I didn't think I needed the rear shocks. Those cost a fair bit more, add weight, and they're not really necessary unless you're doing a lot of big jumps. At least that's what the bike shop guys told me, so it must be true! I thought I might regret that, since there are sections of hardpacked dirt I dread on my trails. Not that they're difficult to navigate, but it's so bumpy that I can't pedal over them. I just have to roll as the bike jounces along, which is merely annoying going downhill or flat, but actively detrimental when riding uphill.
Much to my surprise, the front shock almost entirely neutralized that problem. The back still bounced a lot, but without the full bike rigidity pitching me front-back-front-back, I zoomed up, down, and over such patches, and similar ones of rocks, without anywhere near the sort of jouncing I'd come to expect.
I also disproved my old theory/justification about exercise. I was more tired after Monday's ride than I used to be on the old plow. I didn't go much further than I used to, but I was pedaling in a higher gear on all the uphills, and even though the bike goes so much easier, I was moving so much faster that I still worked harder. Either that or the fact that I hadn't been out in like 3 weeks took the tits off of this bull. Let's pretend it's the former, though, eh?
On the whole, I can highly recommend a new, better, front shock, pedal clamp mountain bike, if you're still riding a bike that was new during Clinton's first term. (Bill, I mean.) Better yet; get a generous relative to buy it. Return to college and finish your degree to earn this present, if necessary. Best $700 my dad ever spent!
Update: Fun fact about hydraulic disc brakes. If you squeeze the brake lever when the bike wheel, or something else of similar width, is not in the brake mechanism, the metal braking plates will squeeze together and
never open again. Well, never if you don't know how to disassemble the hydraulic mechanism and reset it. Been nice if they'd told me that when I bought the bike, so that I didn't inadvertently squeeze the brake lever at some point yesterday, while driving the bike back from a nearby mountain. Now I can't put the front tire back on, and I don't have the tools or knowledge of how to reset the brake. Happily, they said it would only take a few minutes to fix in the shop. They recommended getting a stack of business cards, or some sort of strong cardboard, and wedging it into the brake opening any time the tire is off. The joys of technological improvements!
Update II: It turns out that fixing the problem isn't so hard. You don't need to disassemble the brakes or anything; you just very gently and carefully lever the brake pads apart, going slowly so the hydraulic fluid is moved back up the line. The tip of a flathead screwdriver works well enough, or you can keep sliding business or playing cards between them. They suggest you stick something into the brake when you have a tire off, to avoid this problem. A stack of business cards, a piece of thick plastic, etc. Apparently bikes used to ship with a little clip on brake lock that fit into place, but it's not common anymore, and the shop didn't have any in stock. Not even to purchase.
Labels: fitness
