‘Daybreak, Jakarta; the proud men and women of the Navy are fighting
for freedom; but you’re in Lubbock, Texas, hosing stains off a monument. You’re in the Naval Reserve; America’s 17th
line of defense, between the Mississippi National Guard and the League of Women
Voters. After leaving training, you only
have to work one weekend a month, and most of that time you’re drunk off your
ass.’
I still laugh about that clip, even to this day. Perhaps it’s an inside joke. In any case, here’s a clever spin on it:
‘Daylight, Aspen, the filthy rich ski-bums are out hitting the
slopes; but you’re stuck in your biking shoes and thermal tights. You’re a fat-biker. Rather than conform to the seasons and
realize that it’s a blizzard outside, you refuse to admit that bikes aren’t
meant for the snow. Why enjoy the
comforts of a ski-lodge and snow bunnies when you can freeze your ass off in
the middle of nowhere?’
You see, I’m not a fan of the fat-bike (or those who ride
them). Why? Well, unless you’re one of the 1% (literally)
that happen to live on the beaches of either California or Florida, chances are
that you’ve put your mountain bike away for the season. I’m sure there are some hard-core junkies out
there who just can’t get enough and will put on the layers to hit a few trails
here and there, but for us in Regularville, we’ve officially called it quits
for 2015. That is, all of us except the
Fabbers (hey, that works … Fat-bikers…fabbers…).
Ugh, the fat biker.
The cycling version of a doped-out surfer-bum.
While I was the sales and marketing coordinator for
Ellsworth Hand-Crafted Bicycles, Tony Ellsworth was hard at work designing and
planning for the eventual release of their carbon hardtail fatbike: the
Buddha. Ellsworth had big plans and high-hopes
of the Buddha being the new flagship of the brand that would put it back on the
map of relevancy within the industry. I
was never so ambitious, but that’s a blog post for another day. Suffice it to be said that putting all of
your eggs into the fat bike basket won’t make you or your company relevant
within the industry unless your company name is Borealis or Salsa.
You see, for the vast majority of ‘normal’ weekend warriors,
one or two bikes is the extent of your arsenal.
A mountain and a road. For that
rare breed of individual who can afford a garage full of toys, perhaps their
sixth bike will be a fat bike; but it’s rare.
This is why the attempt to turn the fat-bike into an everyday bike has failed
(in my humble opinion). Riding a 4” wide
tire on hard-packed single-track isn’t ideal, no matter how you try to market
it. You’re not going to hit Slickrock on
a fat-bike. Heck, even a 2.35” tire on
Slickrock is pushing it (I prefer a 2.1”).
You won’t hit Whistler with a fat-bike.
Not Fruita, not Downeyville, not Bend.
So, hypothetically speaking, where does a fat-bike actually make sense? Perhaps the middle of the Sonora desert? Huntington Beach? A frozen lake in the middle of January? Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?
More than anything, there’s a legitimate reason why
fat-bikes and fat-bikers are beginning to deserve some wrath from the rest of
the riding public: have you ever seen what a fat bike does to a wet/damp/muddy
trail? It isn’t pretty.
In Utah, there are various groups of individuals who are
highly involved in the planning and construction of new trails; they’re also
very hawkish about maintaining those trails.
No matter where you live, chances are there’s a group of individuals who
are highly invested, very interested and very anal about the condition of their
local trails. While even 10-years ago
the industry norm for mountain biking was mixed-use trails where hikers, bikers
and horse-back riders were to share the trail, more and more biking-specific
trails are popping up. Mountain biking
suddenly has a lot more clout; the industry has evolved. People care, and I mean CARE, about ‘their’
trails – and nothing aggravates mountain bikers more than trails that have been
torn up and destroyed. You used to be
able to blame a horse for that, but not anymore. The vast majority of trail destruction can be
blamed on bikes themselves. In Utah,
most damage comes during the ‘wet’ season.
Although in the late Spring-time many trails remain soft, they are
rarely wet (we live in a desert). The
only time of year when trails are truly wet/damp is in the winter and early spring,
when snow is on still on the ground … which is precisely when the average
Joe-six-pack fat-biker is hitting the trails.
As I mentioned earlier, I’m not a fan. I think they’re a fad if there ever was
one. I know this because I build and
sell 300 used bikes a year, and I’ve never sold a single fat bike. Now, there are various reasons for this: 1)
the margins aren’t there, 2) the market isn’t there, and 3) I never build a
bike that I personally wouldn’t ride.
Man created 2.35” Maxxis Minions for a reason; he also created the Fox
Float 36 for a reason. Why would I want
to jump onto a bike with 4”-wide tires and only 100mm of travel (if that) in
the middle of winter when I can drive 25-minutes from my home and be at Alta or
Snowbird? The answer is I wouldn’t. Nobody rides a fat bike because they’re ‘fun’. Now, perhaps the guys at Borealis or Salsa
would try to convince you that the fat bike is a legitimate everyday bike, and
there is definitely a small minority of rabid fans of it out there, but in the
real world, they’re few and far-between.
There’s just enough of them to be really, really annoying.
The trend of the fat bike, at least in Utah, has been
relegated to the off-season. I saw just one
guy riding a fat bike this past summer here on the local trails, and he looked
like an idiot. Fat-bikers come out of
their parents basement come October (much like CXers). When every other sensible cyclist has put
away their bikes for the year, the fat-biker just can’t get enough. When it’s 38 degrees outside and flurrying,
you can rest assured there’s some idiot on a fat-bike covered in mud destroying
your favorite trail.
The off-season needs to stay the off-season: for the vast
majority of bikers, that means you put away your biking shoes and put on your
ski boots. When there’s a foot of fresh
snow on the ground, that means you strap your feet onto a board or two skis,
not your clipless pedals.
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 … ugh!
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