HUH? Second-Guessing the Forced Extinction of the 26" Wheel

HUH?  Second-Guessing the Forced Extinction of the 26” Wheel

by Tyler Pace

In business, like life, only two things are certain: death and taxes.  Death in business isn’t like it is in life: in life you simply stop breathing, which results in physical death.  In business, death comes in a different fork: declining sales.  When a business runs out of ‘breath’, unless it finds a new source of income (think of income as oxygen), it will die.  Hence, why constantly searching for new and emerging markets to grab a share of is so important.  Do you think Apple would be the biggest corporation on the planet if they still only made the Macintosh desktop?  Of course not!  

In the cycling industry, this rule is most certainly true.  The ability to diversify and offer more products (as opposed to less) is key to the ability to diversify and grow.  When a niche within the industry emerges, competition is quick to gobble up market share.  Once all of the money has been sucked out of that sector of the industry – like a dried up west Texas oil well – the industry moves on.  This is where the 26” wheel stands as of now: it’s been boarded up and left to collect dust.  But, even the most dried-up oil wells still produce SOME oil.  And for this reason the pre-mature death of the 26” wheel is so surprising: there are, in fact, SOME people who prefer the 26” wheel.

With that being said, I’d like to propose something radical to the wizards of smart within the bike industry, particularly within the marketing departments, that may sound like sour grapes: PLEASE DON’T KILL OFF THE 26” WHEEL!  

The premise:

Let me begin by saying a few things:

1.       I’ve been building custom used mountain bikes since 1995; I’ve built and sold well over 4,000 at last count, and average 300 builds a year.

2.       I personally have 2 mountain bikes my stable – a 26” 2009 Titus El Guapo and a 26” 2010 Titus FTM.

3.       I worked as the sales/marketing coordinator for Ellsworth Handcrafted Bicycles in 2014.  

An Analogy:

It is said that the bicycle was born in 1817, which would make the 2-wheel mode of transportation nearly 200-years old.  Over the course of the last 200-years, the bicycle has had its number of modifications – from the penny-farthing to the Schwinn Stingray, and many, many more.  With new-comers to the industry, various niches were carved out and standardized designs formed: most recently the 700c became the norm for road bikes while the 26” wheel became the norm for the mountain.  

By contrast, the automobile is just over 130-years of age, having been invented in 1886.  Like the bicycle industry, various forms and versions of the automobile have come and gone.  There are now various forms of the automobile, ranging from the two-door convertible to the motor-home, and everything in-between.  Is there any one ‘perfect’ design of the automobile?  No.  There are simply various forms and options for the consumer to choose from.

For this reason (and many others), the untimely and hyper-intensified ‘death’ of the 26” wheel within the bicycle industry is so mind-boggling.  In the automobile industry, the powers-that-be are smart enough to give the general public what they want: millions of cars/trucks/SUV’s are sold each year.  There’s no ‘perfect’ car, just the perfect car for the individual consumer.  The more options an individual has, the more likely they are to get exactly what they truly want.  So why is it that, within the bicycle industry, rather than providing what the consumer wants, the industry needs to kill off the old models in order to force the consumer into a new standard?  Such actions are head-scratching, to say the least.  Somehow, what was the ‘best’ in the industry just 3+ years ago, and touted by the industry as the best, is now out-dated and crap.  Don’t believe me?  How many people are going crazy over the 26” Ibis Mojo HD in 2015?  

   

My Story:    

In 1994, at the age of 14, I purchased the only brand-new bike I’ve ever bought: a lime-green Nishiki Pueblo.  I loved that bike.  However, I soon found myself tinkering around with certain aspects of the bike, primarily the front fork.  I had noticed a bike on the trail with a suspension fork – a Rock Shox Quad 5 – and suddenly needed to have one.  The problem: they weren’t cheap, especially for a 14-year-old.  So, I worked hard at my job (I packed candy into cardboard boxes in a neighbor’s garage) and earned enough to finally purchase the fork that had by that time caught my eye: the Rock Shox Judy XC.  By that time I’d purchased my first used bike: a Mountain Tech.  With the addition of the Judy, it was the apple of my eye.  However, it didn’t take long for someone to notice it around town (I’m front Fort Collins, Colorado), and offer to purchase it.  Although I truly loved my bicycle, I also loved money, and at that point the capitalist in me was born: why not build bikes to sell (as well as ride)?  My first true project bike was a DBR Vector (remember those?).  I went all-out and purchased Grip-Shift X-Rays, a Judy SL, new Mavic X-317 straight-laced rims, and the list goes on.  I was suddenly building dream-bikes at the age of 15.  One thing led to another, and in 1996 at the age of 17, Anex Bicycles was created.  Fast-forward 18-years later and the concept is relatively unchanged: I build custom used-bicycles out of my garage with margins around 40% per bike.

In running my own bike-building business that’s 100% catered to the used market (the average selling price is around $1000 per bike), I deal with new customers to the bike industry on a daily basis.  People in the market for a used bike can be classified similar to those looking for a used car: they may not know much, but they know they aren’t going to buy new.  I deal with value-minded shoppers, not necessarily penny-pinchers, but customers looking for a good deal.  However, they are also being told (by peers and bike shops alike) what they should ride, even though they have no idea why.  So, it comes down to me to educate them of their options.  I live in Utah just outside Salt Lake City, at the base of two world-renowned canyons known for world-class skiing (ever heard of Alta or Snowbird?).  Utah – home of Slickrock, Porcupine, Gooseberry, and the list goes on.  With the risk of sounding overly snobbish, I’ll say this: Utah has the best mountain biking in the world – because we have all kinds of it that suits all levels of riders.  As such, there are trails which are naturally catered to just about every form of mountain bike, from the hardtail 29er to the 8” DH full-suspension.    

With all of the various types and forms of riding that are available within my beautiful state, I find myself educating my customer base about the reasons they do/don’t want a particular type of bike.  A typical conversation with a new customer goes something like this:

Customer: “I’m looking for a 29er with ‘dual’ suspension.”

Me: “Why?”  

Customer: “I don’t know – my friend just said I should buy a 29er.”  

Me: “What type of riding are you planning on?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

What these conversations reaffirm to me on a daily basis is this: the vast majority of individuals coming into the sport of mountain biking are clueless, and will pretty much believe anything they’re told.  I’ve had 60-year-old men show up to look at Specialized Demo’s who are looking to get out on the ‘trail’.  I’ve had 14-year-old kids show up looking at Scott Spark’s planning to take them up to the resorts for a day of lifts.  What these customers, and thousands more like them, all have in common is this: they think that all mountain bikes are created equally for the same purpose.  How wrong they are.  

For years, the 26” wheel was all there was: it was the only game in town.  Once the 29er began grabbing a small niche about 10-years-ago, I had to explain in layman’s terms the difference between the two.  To differentiate, I usually draw a similarity to surfing.  The difference, I explain, between the two wheel sizes can be thought of just as you’d differentiate between a standard surf board and a long board.  One is smaller and more agile, while the other is more stable and flows over the waves smoother.  Now, I realize it’s not the perfect analogy, but it’s effective in that it gets people to understand there’s a big difference between the two.  Being that we live in Utah, we have a lot of mountains, a lot of steep trails, and a lot of switchbacks – what we don’t have are many tree-roots.  Yes, 29ers are the more preferred option if you intend to ‘roll’ over obstacles easier (and live on the east-cost) – but the reality is that we don’t have much to roll over in Utah.  The smaller wheels tend to be preferred in Utah due to the switchbacks and jumps that can be experienced on the vast majority of the trials.  Once I explain these facts to the new customer, they usually end up buying 26” bikes.  As of today, November 10^th, 2015, I’ve sold 251 bikes this year: 231 have been 26”, 13 29ers, 6 road bikes, and 1 (yes, ONE) 27.5”.  So, take that for what it’s worth.

The Facts:

Now that we’ve differentiated between the 29 and 26, it’s time to face the unfortunate reality as we find ourselves dealing with in 2015: the 650b has replaced the 26”.  In effect, the industry has completely killed off the industry norm: they’ve replaced the 4-door sedan with the 4-door cross-over.  But, rather than continuing to build a few 26” models, they (every single bike brand I can think of) have agreed to complete terminate the genre from existence, relegating it to the history books.  The question I have is this: WHY?  

There is no one answer; the quickest explanation would simply be that in order to appear as ‘cutting-edge’ and still in-line with the current trend, the industry had to jump onboard the new norm and kill off the old in order to keep the public interested – and spending money.  In all reality, this was a marketing decision: the industry needed to create a need that would require people to part ways with their money, and convincing the world that 26” was dead was the best way to do just that.  You can only advance technology to much in suspension and drivetrains until you can’t, and the industry found that out in recent years.  The only way to boost sales was to either make proprietary parts specific to the frame (think of Cannondale) or to change the norm altogether.   In order to try and cut through the fat of what the industry wants you to think and feel – and buy – one must take themselves out of the industry as a whole and try to see it for what it is.  The bike industry (like all industries) is all about making money; the only way they can make any money is to sell bikes.  Bikes have become so incredibly high-tech and complex that the industry couldn’t continue to evolve without a major change.  Sram can only improve XX1 so much before they can’t; Fox can only improve the CTD before they can’t; ENVE can only improve the M70 wheel so much before they can’t.  For this reason, it was necessary to make a change that couldn’t be over-looked by the vast majority of the riders in the world: the wheel diameter.  

In the cycling industry, evolution is typically forced by a decline in revenue.  The need to differentiate between the competition is real: if every bike were the same, then price would be the determining factor for the consumer.  So, in order to justify a higher price-point, individual bike producers (Cannondale again) will use proprietary designs and industry standards that paint the consumer into a corner.  Because the only REAL difference from one bike to another is the frame, it’s up to Cannondale to market the other differences of their bikes over the competition, such as the Lefty, and to convince the consumer they need it.  Suddenly, Cannondale has carved a small niche for themselves.  A season goes by and they’re suddenly selling 650b’s like hot-cakes – suddenly, the entire industry takes notice.  Another season goes by and everyone is building a 27.5” bike.  Like that, the niche (or trend, or fad, however you want to view it) has become mainstream.  It was up to the market/industry to quickly make sure they weren’t left in the dust and adapt to the hype of the new norm.  Do I understand why they converted over?  Yes.  I’m a marketing guy, and I would have done the same thing, just like we did at Ellsworth.  However, in the wake of this paradigm shift within the industry, the most bizarre thing took place: as all resources began to shift towards 650b, the 26” lines weren’t only left by the wayside: they were discontinued altogether.

Again, from a marketing perspective, I get it: bike companies aren’t made of money.  They’re cash-strapped and constantly penny pinching.  They can only allocate so much towards R&D along with production costs and inventory.  It makes sense that they would shift focus to what’s hot.  However, to completely clean their hands of what’s been their bread-and-butter for years can only leave most riders scratching their heads.

Is there REALLY a difference?

Let’s get one thing very clear before I continue: wheel sizes actually make a difference: you can feel it.  Whether you ride with a tapered steerer or straight, or a 15mm TA or 20mm, or 142x15mm rear or 135x10mm thru-axle, the reality is you can’t FEEL that in your riding.  Perhaps Jared Graves or Cam Zink can – but for the rest of us, we can’t.  What we CAN feel is a difference is wheel size.   And, as strange as it may sound, some people (by which I mean hundreds of thousands, myself included) actually prefer the 26” wheel.  Call me old-fashioned, but I do.  In the paranoia that has swept over the bike industry these past few years, every major player has failed to realize that, although the industry itself may be a bubble located primarily in Southern California, in the real world people actually have preferences.  It may be cool and hip to ride a fat-bike on Laguna Beach and convince the world that unless you too are riding one, you’re a loser – but, in fly-over country, we don’t have beaches.  Selling an image only gets you so far if you try to convince yourself that EVERYONE ELSE thinks just like you.  And therein lays the problem: the industry insiders have made these choices from their break-rooms and from the inside-out, not from the trails and the outside-in.  

There are simply some people out there who LOVE their 26” wheels and will never change.  If you don’t believe me, take a trip to Monterey next spring and go to Sea Otter.  Perhaps the best people-watching within the industry can be had at Laguna Seca each April.  In 2014, I went as a team-member of Ellsworth.  I found it interesting (as well as frustrating) that nearly EVERY Ellsworth owner that would come up to our booth was on a 10+ year old model: it was our job to get them into a new one.  The response of most of these customers was the same: why give up a good thing?  Why get rid of perfection?  At first I was a little annoyed by the stubbornness of these customers; then I realized that I was the exact same way.  For my style of riding, I’m a 26” snob – and apparently, there are many, many more individuals like me.

Back in September I attended Interbike.  Yes, it’s a great event, but the fact remains: it’s a show for the industry to celebrate how awesome they are.  Interbike is all about drinking the Kool-Aid: it’s where everyone comes together and plans out how they’re going to convince you, the public, of how what was the best last year now sucks and how what they were developing while selling you last years model is that much better.  How else can the industry convince the world that what they were riding last year, which was the bomb only 12-months prior, suddenly sucks?  My point: don’t believe all the hype.  They’ve already developed next years model and are already producing it in Taiwan; they’re just selling you what they designed LAST year and hoping you’ll be dumb enough to come back in a years time for what they’re already developing NOW.

Can You REALLY tell a difference?

If only there were a realistic way to do a blind ride-test within the bike industry: I’d be curious to see the results of a test which had the same individual ride two identical bikes down the same trail, one with 26” and the other with 27.5” wheels.  If given the option between the two, which would they choose (before knowing which was which).  Would they even be able to tell a difference?  How about 29” to 27.5?  Would they tell a difference?  It’s relatively easy to tell a distinct different between a 29er and a 26er, even in a parking lot – but trying to differentiate a 650b isn’t so easy.  Between 650b and 29”, there’s realistically a .5” radial difference between the two options you now have: how many people can honestly tell a difference between the two?  Will a Specialized Stumpjumper 29er ride THAT much different than a Stumpjumper 650b?  I highly doubt it – because I’ve ridden them both.  The reality is that the results would more-than-likely be about 50/50%, for the same reasons I explained above.  Some people want the agility; others want the roll-over factor.  Unfortunately, the industry is choosing to ignore the facts that no matter what they do with the 27.5” wheels, it will not RIDE the same as a 26” bike.  But here’s the funny thing: I’ve had the opportunity to mix and mingle with a lot of good riders, be it XC, DH, what have you.  These are sponsored, popular riders; these guys are on podiums.  Yes, you see them on Instagram catching air and winning races – on 27.5” wheels – because that’s what their sponsors give them to ride.  But, it’s funny just how many of them switch over to the 26” wheel when they aren’t racing – and you know it’s true.  A DH bike with 27.5” wheels DOES NOT ride like a 26”; they simply don’t.  

Look at the basic facts of where the mountain bike industry has placed itself as of 2015: the 29er, the 650b, the emerging e-bike and the fat bike.  The fat bike is a niche that will never grow, despite the best efforts of such companies as Borealis.  There’s a reason why everyone sells off their fat bikes in spring: they’re useless for most of the year, and when they may be fun to ride, skiing is typically the better option.  In Utah in April you can tell when a Fat bike was just on the trail because the trail is absolutely HAMMERED.  In our day and age of social media and associations of trail conditions for specific trails, having some jackass ride a fat-bike in the mud makes for a whole lot of upset riders.  Hence, the fat-bike has quickly become a sour subject in Utah.  

What to do?

By now you’re asking yourself ‘okay, Tyler, what’s your point?’  Am I really that much of a 26” nerd that I’ll boycott the new industry norm?  No.  What I am is an avid life-long cyclist, a business owner, and a realist.  What I see is a HUGE opportunity, and all it takes is one.  All it takes is one brand to make that 4-door sedan once more – the 26” bike – because there are loads of customers waiting for just that.  Believe it or not, not EVERYONE prefers 650b over 26”.  

Because it’s still new and cool, the industry is still in the honeymoon phase with the 650b.  They’re selling like hot-cakes because they’re new and cool.  However, once the dust has settled and the trend dies down, don’t be surprised when some begin to wake up and realize that their options have been taken away from them.  Their 29er rides too much like their 650b, so why have both?  People will begin to consolidate back to just ONE bike rather than two.  That was the beauty of the way things were: the 29er was a different beast.  It was a different machine.  You could get away convincing the wife that you needed two bikes because they were, truthfully, two different bikes.  However, due to the over-zealousness of the industry to grab easy-money, they’ve failed to look at the long-term picture: they just shot themselves in the foot.  If the overall goal of the industry was to sell more bicycles over time, they just failed to do so.

Perhaps it won’t happen in 2016, perhaps not 2017, but I have a sneaky suspicion that the 26” will come back, and a lot sooner than you may think.  All it takes is ONE player within the industry.  And before I try to convince one, just one brand to bring them back, I’ll let the marketing manager come out in me: the opportunities are TREMENDOUS for that one company to reach out and carve a massive niche within the industry.  Obviously, it takes more than just a bike brand to make a bike: you need wheels, tires, and a fork – the rest of the parts are universal.  So perhaps we need Mavic, Maxxis, and Marzocchi on-board as well, but my point is simple: the possible financial windfall for whichever brand decides to ‘revert’ back to a 26” model within the next few years is gigantic.  I could go on and on about frame materials and being Made in the USA, but for now, let’s stick to the point: the 26” can’t die – because it’s simply too popular.  It’s too big to fail. The industry has (whether they meant to or not) alienated a massive portion of their buying audience by ditching the 26” wheel; but all it takes is one.  Talk about cornering a market.   

 My El Guapo

My FTM

My Yoeleo

About the author: 

Tyler Pace runs Anex Bicycles from his home in Cottonwood Heights, Utah.  He rides a Titus El Guapo, a Titus FTM, and a sweet Yoeleo road bike.  He built two sweet bikes for his wife, but she’s never ridden either of them … and it drives him nuts.