When something works, you stick with it. For example, last Wednesday I stole off for a midday all-terrain bicycle ride, and it was rather enjoyable. And so yesterday I did the same thing again:
However, unlike last week, this time I rode the Jones:
Here’s another shot of it leaning jauntily on its kickstand:
That’s just a clamp-on kickstand, but the newer version of the actually has a kickstand plate. If the idea of a kickstand bothers you, try leaning a Jones (or really any bike with wide, swept-back bars) against a wall. Your opinion will soon change, as it’s like a drunk trying to prop himself up against a lamppost at a bus stop.
Arguably there’s no better place to be on a bicycle at this time of year than the woods–nature’s cathedral–where the leaves color the light like stained glass:
Yes, the forbidding Trails Behind The Mall have a little bit of everything, from smooth:
To rocky:
To smooth and rocky:
This was my first time riding the Jones and the AMP more or less back-to-back, which I’d been meaning to do ever since taking delivery of the latter:
The AMP is a late 20th century racing bike and it’s a lot of fun to ride. It’s very light, it’s very smooth, and it feels very fast, even on pavement. Meanwhile, getting on the Jones after riding the AMP is like eating the “Eat Me” cake in “Alice in Wonderland.” It’s as though you grew to an enormous size and what were once large obstacles are now simply minor surface irregularities. In particular, the sorts of steep, rocky descents that are nerve-wracking on the AMP barely register on the Jones–and yet, despite having enormous wheels and tires that eclipse the ones on the AMP, the Jones is actually easier to ride up tight, twisty trails. It’s also very stable, including at slow speeds. Like when the going gets tricky you can stop and sit there for a moment or two without putting your foot down while you figure out what to do next.
But the thing I noticed most of all was how good my back felt. Sure, I’m getting old, but even when I was young my lower back would always get sore after awhile from the mountain bicycling–something of which I was reminded on my recent AMP-scursions. But not on the Jones. (Jeff Jones can explain how and why his bikes ride the way they do much better than I can.)
And while the drivetrain of the Jones may be grimy and a bit rusty (much like its rider) this ride confirmed it’s still working quite well and so I see no reason to change it:
If I want thumb shifters and multiple chainrings I’ll just pop some ibuprofen and hop on the AMP.
There’s really only one thing about the Jones that preys on my mind, and it’s the tires. Specifically, I set them up tubeless when I first received the bike back in 2019, and since then I’ve dumped some sealant in there every so often in case the old sealant dried out. That’s it. This makes me wonder…how much sealant is in these huge tires at this point? Obviously I’m not the sort of person who can be bothered to remove his tires every so often and clean out the old sealant, nor am I the sort of person who bothers to measure the sealant before I put it in there. So have I added several pounds to the bike? Am I suffering from sub-optimal rolling resistance? Next time I go to top off the sealant will it just dribble right out of the valve because the tires are finally full of coagulated latex? I keep telling myself I’ll just deal with it when I replace them but do you know how long it takes to wear out a 3″ tire? At this point I won’t need new ones for like 20 years.
And yes, I know long periods of uninterrupted flat-free operation is one of the main benefits of tubeless, but this is ridiculous.
***Bonus Tech Nerd Quiz***
I was puzzled by this and had to consult Paul of Classic Cycle, but can you dorks figure it out on your own?
The AMP has a 7-speed rear hub:
With an 8-speed Hyperglide cassette:
But instead of a lockring holding it on there’s this:
So what’s going on?