falling off bikes since 1975

I’ve been hob-nobbing this weekend. I had the opportunity of a four day pass out, and Chipps invited to stay over in Calderdale, and then be taken out riding on his new trails.

Inspiration was provided on Saturday night as we worked our way through a small pile of DVDs. The Collective, Manifesto, and finally Pure Sweet Hell. Freeride, trials, and cross racing. It’s hard to say which was more inspiring. All three had moments of wow. Of the three only Pure Sweet Hell contained the kind of riding I could do, and even then I know I’d be running up against my anaerobic limit at the back of the pack, being lapped by anorexic looking uber-fit athletes, as skinny as their tyres, as elegant as their delicate frames. I certainly haven’t been able to carry off the skin suit look since 1994.

It’s the most beautiful form of bike racing, far and away.
Mike Ferrentino

A man who has never ridden the Three Peaks.

Wheels Rolling

So, today was the day for riding.

Once we’d finished the obligatory faffing. We rode out for over four hours today as Chipps showed me his new trails.

As usual in Calderdale we managed lots of climbing. I almost had a use for the abandoned Zimmer frame at the top of one climb, speed rated to 0.35 mph according to the paint on what, for want of a better description, we shall call the top-tube.

Chipps rewarded our climbing efforts with some sweet descending where I could try out my new keep-ze-knees-together downhilling style, as inspired by The Collective. There were a couple of Ryan Leech style leg up in the air moments too as I tried to keep my balance. There were precious few cross style moments - I hit my limits far to easily, and have a more gung-ho attitude to riding over obstacles, even on skinny tyres, than most of those featured.

We also pioneered a new trail, at the back of Walsden tripe processing plant (no, really), which Chipps, has allowed me to name. Tripe Trail doesn’t do it justice, so Easter Bunny it is.

We also found some spiral steps of doom that the Hebden-fixated techologists at Cheeky Trails have missed. Naturally we could have ridden them, but they would have led us away from where we were going. Ahem.

In just two weeks time my stamina has to be good enough to manage 6 hours, at a harder pace. More intervals and running needed I think.

96. Not 96er, 1996

One thing that has followed Chipps everywhere is his collection of mountain bike magazines. This morning I was looking through magazines from 1995 and 1997. There’s a definite difference in feel between the 1995 magazine and what we read today. By 1997 the magazine, and the equipment, looks a lot more familiar. What happened in 1996?

XTR? It almost killed the CNC machine shops pushing out boutique and frequently breakable parts.

V-brakes? Or rather their adoption by the big S.

The Specialized FSR? GT LTS? John Whyte’s Marin designs? Working rear suspension at a price suitable for mass consumption.

Back in 1995 75mm of travel is described as capable of handling the big hits, and 46mm is more the norm. The attitude is still that anything more is going to upset the handling too much - making the bike handle like a barge in treacle when extended, but too sharp under compression.

By 1997 there are reviews of 5 inch travel bikes. Admittedly they are aimed at the downhiller rather than the XC or trail rider, but plenty of the bikes themselves not only wouldn’t look unusual today, they don’t as many of them are still around. Even the hardtails of 1997 look more modern somehow than those of 1995.

So what did happen in 1996? Was there a single defining moment? Or was it nothing at all and it’s all in my head? Answers on a postcard please.

Credits

The sentient beings in the iPod managed to provide a suitable soundtrack to the drive home and this post is bought to you by T Rex, the Velvet Underground and Wylde Rattz.