Something like eight years ago now, I wrote the semenal Outside column, “Bicycle Suspension Is Evil:”
The cycling world was outraged, with one Pinkbike editor even writing an entire counter-column about how stupid I was, so naturally I followed it up with a bunch of similarly contrarian and derivative columns aimed at bitter older readers such as:
- “Carbon Is Contemptuous”
- “Disc Brakes are Despicable”
- “Integrated Bottom Brackets Are Infernal”
- “The Link Between Electronic Shifting And Impotence That Nobody Wants To Talk About”
- “Torque Fasteners Make Me Feel Oddly Uncomfortable”
So it’s with some trepidation I’m now sharing with you that I have finally surrendered, and that there’s a full suspension mountain bike en route to me as I type this. No, I’m not ready to tell you what it is yet, but I will say it’s not only quite high-end but also bursting with cutting-edge technology. And no, it’s not a Softride:
Though that reminds me I should probably check in with the guy who won it and see how things are going:
I wonder if he’s still beaming like he is in the photo.
Hey, I said “beaming,” did you catch that?
Sure you did.
In the meantime, I’m still riding a primitive road bike and struggling to figure out why I like it so much:
I wish I understood bikes and what makes them ride well as deeply and profoundly as professional bike reviewers do:
Hopefully he washed the bodily fluids off that bike before he gave it back.
I mean it’s not like I’m totally ignorant. For example, I do know from reading reviews that you should always use titanium cranks to reduce ankle fatigue:
Or if titanium is too dear, you should at least use a square taper crank:
I lost IQ points just reading that.
People often complain about how bike companies market racing bikes to the average schmuck. Sure, it’s silly, but I don’t really have a problem with it. As an average (at best) schmuck myself, I know all too well that opportunities to feel exceptional are few and far between. So if riding a racing bike makes you feel special then consider yourself lucky, because even if you lack both money and talent, getting yourself on a professional quality bike is a fairly attainable goal. A Formula 1 car costs millions of dollars and you can’t even drive it anywhere, but an S-Wanks Venge Schmenge or its 2025 equivalent is not only dirt cheap by comparison, but as long as you can balance a two-wheeler you’re free to ride it up and down the local bike path all day long. Sure, there was a time when you might have been considered a menace for yelling “On your left!” at kids on balance bikes, but thanks to e-bikes nobody even notices roadies anymore.
However, it does get a bit ridiculous when the people reviewing the pro race bikes complain about how they’re only suited for pro racers:
Apparently designing a WorldTour bike that’s not comfortable enough for average schmucks or “someone who tests race bike as their job” and even explaining ahead of time that it’s “only for about 20% of consumers” is “unnecessarily alienating:”
This is like reviewing a pair of hockey skates and complaining they’re alienating because they’re too difficult to walk in. Why are people who don’t race bikes even reviewing race bikes and assigning arbitrary numbers to them anyway?
That’s sure is an unnecessarily complicated way to say “Just Buy A Rivendell Already.”