As I’ve mentioned before, cyclists have been waging an anti-cotton fear campaign for decades now, and this is the subject of my latest Outside column:
Someone on Twitter suggested this was a “straw man” argument, which is entry-level Internet discourse, like using one of those adjustable stems on your road bike:
[Instead of those pointless angle indicators all adjustable stems should have a QR code on them that takes you straight to the Rivendell website]
However, the fact of the matter is that if someone hasn’t Fred-splained to you why you shouldn’t ride in cotton then you haven’t been riding for very long–or you’re extremely lucky. (And yes, I realize it’s hypocritical to endorse riding in regular clothing while making fun of adjustable stems, but the site is called “Bike Snob,” not “Bike Person Who’s Really Nice To You.”)
Meanwhile, as a number of you noted recently, Cane Creek has a new gravel suspension fork:
Crucially, they want you to know that they’re not trying to turn your gravel bike into a mountain bike, they’re just trying to make it better for riding “more demanding trails:”
I’m old enough to remember when the exact definition of a mountain bike was “a bike suited to more demanding trails.” But now I guess that’s what a gravel bike is, and a mountain bike is just for airborne watermelon-fucking:
[Warning: Professional Watermelon-Fucker, Do Not Attempt]
Of course, Cane Creek recognizes that adding a suspension fork makes your bike more complicated, so they’re making servicing “as easy as possible.”
That’s very thoughtful of them, but it’s worth noting that nothing’s easier than a fork that never, ever needs to be serviced, which describes pretty much every rigid fork. Granted, we’ve all got difference tolerance levels when it comes to how much regular maintenance we’re willing to do, but as far as I’m concerned absolutely no bicycle component’s service intervals should be measured in hours. With the exception of stuff like brake pads, tires, and chains, which may need to be replaced seasonally or more depending on circumstances, bicycle component service intervals should be measured in years if not decades; otherwise, the only service interval that should be measured in hours is how often you do your laundry. (Though even that can be measured in months if you ride in wool and merino–no offense to cotton of course, but you’re probably not going to want to try to get 100 hours out of your cotton t-shirt or undergarment without washing it.)
But the real question is, “Does the Cane Creek Invert gravel fork come in one-inch threaded?”
It’s been a little over four years since I first got the Homer and while I’m tempted to try to articulate for the umpteenth time just why I love it I don’t think there’s really any point since I don’t think I’ll ever do better than this:
This is true even without a gravel suspension fork–though maybe I should add that it’s like sliding into a bathtub full of warm mac and cheese whilst being swaddled in cotton:
Also, I should be clear that I don’t mean that the bike is mushy or vague, because it’s certainly not; over the years I’ve nudged it over towards the more sporting end of the spectrum by adding a large chainring drop bars, and it’s perfectly well-suited to doing roadie-type stuff like climbing out of the saddle or pushing a big gear while riding in the drops. Some people see the long chainstays on a bike like this and get scared:
This can lead to doing dumb stuff like attempting to “strike an aesthetic where rear wheel to seat tube clearance was intentionally minimal:”
A lot of people think short chainstays automatically mean “sporty” and long chainstays automatically mean “ponderous.” This is silly. As far as I can tell, the way a bike responds to “steering input” or whatever people who try to sound smart try to call it is a matter of stuff like rake and trail and head tube angle and stem length and all that crap. If I’m riding the Homer and I want to quickly change my line in the way I might if I was riding in a pack and I wanted to suddenly jump on the wheel of an attacking rider I can totally do it. Obviously the bike is designed to be stable and comfortable, but it’s still sporty and responsive. The long chainstays and concomitant ample wheelbase don’t reduce the bike’s ability to change direction, they just enhance stability and comfort by spreading out the load and getting the real wheel out from under your ass. Yes, a long wheelbase helps keep you from falling over when moving slowly, but it doesn’t keep you from making adjustments when moving quickly. Meanwhile, a short wheelbase nets you a more compact bike that will fit better inside a bunch when you’re racing, and that will be easier to bunny-hop over surface irregularities precisely because you usually don’t usually want to change direction quickly when racing, unless you want to take out the whole pack. (The exception of course is attacking or responding to an attack, though as I say even a Homer is responsive enough to quickly change direction with the flick of the bars.) And of course a bike with a short wheelbase is a little easier to wrench back and forth in a balls-out sprint. But outside of actual racing the long chainstays have no downside that I can think of–unless you’re concerned with the space between the rear wheel and the seat tube, though if you are you should just fill that with a frame pump or something.
Finally, speaking of changing direction quickly, here’s a trailer for a new movie starring Matthew Modine:
I have not seen it yet, though the producer was kind enough to reach out to me on a number of occasions. As such, I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but judging from some of the taint complaints in the preview I can’t help wondering if they wouldn’t have been happier on Rivendells…though I guess if they did ride Rivendells and were immediately comfortable they couldn’t have done the whole “overcoming pain and adversity” thing, now could they? “Easy Miles” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
