The long-haul lesson

If there’s one thing I’ve learned after a week of commuting on the new Long Haul Trucker, it’s that rising out of the saddle to hammer on this bike is like taking a nun to an orgy. If there’s a point, nobody knows what it is.

The folks at Surly knew what they were doing when they named this thing. It's a truck on two wheels. It’ll haul a load and go all day, but it’ll also pound some humility into anyone who was fooled by carbon fiber into thinking they could scoot up hills with a fair amount of speed.

When a hill appears in front of this bike, you learn to gear down and take your time. It climbs just fine, but it does it on its own time.

Riding this bike makes me think about doing a little touring, but for now I’m just enjoying my new, longer commute, and feeling grateful for the miles and saddle time, because this summer just can’t seem to get off the ground as a mountain bike season.

It’s July 18, and I’ve ridden on the Kenai Peninsula only once, and that was about a month ago when a bunch of us headed down for a day in the middle of June to ride Johnson Pass before the cow parsnip could take it over.

Since then, I’ve been tied up with settling into the new job, building a new bike, and dealing with all the usual distractions of daily life. I can’t really say that sucks, but it definitely sucks to see the season slipping through my fingers when I haven’t touched my favorite summer trails like Lost Lake, Devil’s Pass or Crescent Lake.

It didn’t help, of course, that my fork crapped out at the beginning of July and had to be sent down to Push Industries for a rebuild. The wear and tear turned out to be bad enough that the old fork wasn’t worth the repair costs, so the guys at Push made me a good deal on a new fork that I installed last Thursday night.

It’s high time this situation was remedied. This weekend is going to involve a ride over Devil’s Pass, if I have anything to say about it.

Come Monday, Vol. 2

In my last post, I swore I'd finish building my new bike and ride it to work Monday morning. Then I remembered I have to boogie from the office straight to the Whale Fat Follies immediately after work. Combine that with the thought of locking a brand-new bike in the heart of Spenard for several hours at night, and it just ain't gonna happen.

That's OK. I finished the build and took the Trucker out for a couple of shakedown cruises this weekend, so it'll good to go come Tuesday morning. I rode it for about 90 minutes this afternoon to check for problems, and the only one I came up with was a tendency to reach for my brake levers every time I want to shift gears. It's gonna take a little time to get used to bar-end shifters.

It's always fun to put a new ride together, especially when it's a bike with some eccentricities. The steerer tube on the fork, for instance, was long enough to be used for a prosthetic leg. My new crown-race tool wouldn't work because it capped out nearly three inches above the crown. (Fortunately, I still have my old homemade crown-race driver, which is a steel tube with open ends.) Then there were the bar-end shifters, which just felt weird to install. And cable couplers for the rear brake and both derailleur cables.

Yeah, lots of funky stuff. Not to mention a head tube that makes the front of the frame look like it was built for an NBA center.

The result is a bike with some character, like all versions of the Long Haul Trucker. I think it's a good bike for Alaska. It's durable, strong, and a little goofy looking.

Sort of like the bicycle version of a moose.

Steel is Real

The Great Singlespeed Experiment is coming to an end. I recently posted my thoughts about riding to work on a singlespeed, and stated that if my commute were to get any longer, the first thing I’d do is install gears on my old Stumpjumper.

I knew at the time that a longer commute was a possibility. Now that it’s becoming a reality when I move to a new job later this month, I’ve decided to retire the beloved 15-year-old Stumpy and its bombproof M2 frame, and replace it with a 3-in-1 ride.

Surly’s new Trucker Deluxe—which won’t be released until about the first of July—is equipped with S&S couplers and will 1.) make a faster, more comfortable bike for my 20-mile roundtrip commute; 2.) eliminate my desire to buy a Bike Friday to avoid airline baggage-fee extortion and still get exercise during short, nonbiking vacations and business trips; 3.) accommodate tires up to 2.1” wide, meaning I won’t to keep an extra bike around for icy conditions.

There’s even the fourth benefit of giving me a touring and brevet bike in case I someday manager to get off my ice and actually do a tour or brevet. And because the Trucker Deluxe comes only in a 26-inch-wheel version, I can save money by cannibalizing wheels, brakes, fenders, etc., from my existing bike and spare-parts box.

It’s gonna be one bad mother trucker.

Larry

Hi. I'm Larry, this is my brother Darryl, and this is my other brother Darryl.

I always loved that line on The Newhart Show. I've been thinking about it more often lately, usually after I manage to top a steep climb without spinning out, thanks to the fact I'm in the apparently small group of riders who choose to run Larry tires front and rear, instead of the Larry/Endomorph combo that Surly has recommended since releasing the Larry as a front tire.

I enjoy Surly’s amusing product names. A lot of people know the Pugsley was named for the chubby kid on the old Addams Family television show, and the big Endomorph tire was obviously named for the body type of fat people, but fewer people seem to get the Newhart reference when they see Larry on a bike with two Rolling Darryl rims.

And it pains me that virtually no one on Large Marge rims seems to remember Large Marge, the truck driver from Peewee's Big Adventure, a cinematic masterpiece about a guy on a cross-country odyssey to find his stolen bike.

But aside from their sense of humor, I differ with Surly on the recommended Endomorph/Larry pairing. The Endo was a great tire. It changed winter biking. But the Larry is better in every way, as far as I’m concerned. It not only improves cornering control in the front, it grips better in the back on steep climbs and during braking. The damn thing even steers better on pavement, thanks to a deeper tread pattern with continuous knobs down the center of the tire.

Ever try riding Endos on dry pavement? It's like steering a couple of fat pencil erasers as they smear against asphalt.

I switched to a pair of Larrys last fall while still on my old Pugsley. When I upgraded to a Fatback last month, I stuck with the double-Larry approach and haven't regretted it. Between the better traction of the tires and improved handling of my bike, I feel more secure climbing and cornering on snow than ever before.

Now, if only Surly would make a Kevlar-reinforced road touring tire called the Gilligan.

Or maybe gender-specific, ergonomic saddles. They could call them Wally and Beaver.

Wish list in an economic wasteland

I recently returned from vacation determined to never again travel without an easily transportable bike. I already own a hard-shell case, but it’s not always practical to schlep a huge bike box, and there’s always the threat of nasty airline baggage fees.

A folding bike seemed like a possible sanity-saving solution for quick trips, but the very idea brought an onslaught of criticism from two riding buddies who insisted that a folder would obligate me to commit acts rarely performed by a straight man who's not incarcerated.

That led me back to the more-expensive idea of a Surly Travelers Check with its ingenious S&S couplers. But like most everyone else, I’ve spent the past three months watching my already-laughable financial portfolio waste away like a bulemic bimbo with a nose full of blow.

On top of that, I have a bad habit of reading the news every day, which hasn’t exactly been a confidence builder lately. Dropping a thousand bucks on a frame that would then soak up more money in the form of tasty components just doesn’t seem prudent right now. It’s enough to make a guy want to kick the teeth out of all the sub-prime lenders and derivative-selling financial con artists who put us in this swirling toilet bowl of an economy.

It’s unreasonable to whine about delaying a bike purchase. Unlike some people, I still have a job, and the value of the bikes in my house could feed a Third World family for a few years.

Still, it’s no fun being a responsible adult and delaying gratification.