This episode we go big, but with mixed results. That might be a rhetorical statement, but that has never stopped me. Speaking of stopping, I have never been antediluvian. I have values I abide by, but I simultaneously remain flexible. The overarching question that anything new must answer for me is whether it will improve my experience. This includes weighing my investment against it. In the bike world there have been numerous times where I made the leap to something new that most were dismissive of only to have it become universally adopted. Two for me that stick out are disc brakes and dropper posts, which I acquired in ’99 and ’05 respectively. These were years before they became ubiquitous. I knew these would become standard issue on all mountain bikes, and I told many just that. In both cases I was the recipient of routine derision.
One of my favorite negative comments was, “I’m not a downhiller so I don’t need those.” This amuses me to this day. Ironically, while I love dh riding, I’ve never actually owned a dh bike. I’ve rented them once or twice, but I always just rode what I had. My bikes needed to be able to get me to the top of whatever silly, psychotic, exciting precipice I was determined to go off. I guess that would categorize most of my rides as “freeride” bikes using the simplest paraphrased definition as a type of mountain bike made for not following a specific course or set of rules. I think “all mountain” as a category definer (or “enduro”, all mountain’s racing cousin) makes more sense these days. Modern freeride has come to be defined by giant aerial acrobatics down death-defying tracks which most including myself could not even dream of. Things get blurry though when you are trying to figure out where one mountain bike category ends, and the next one begins. Is it a cross-country bike or trail bike? What about a “down country” bike? Maybe you are looking for an enduro bike, but do you want enduro-lite or super-enduro? Oy! That’s enough semantics.
Nevertheless, the ultimate global acceptance for those technologies was seeing them become de rigueur on XC bikes where any gram-adding gee-gaw, no matter its performance value, is viewed with the most jaundiced eyes. Coming back to my decisions on new things in the bike world, now I just ask if I will have more fun.
Music Selection(s): The band in this episode is from a recent ride “soundtrack”. Yes, I am one of those guys that is always listening to music on rides. That can be (and has been) an entire topic for multiple discussions, but I employ bone-conduction headphones set generally at middle to lower volume so that I can still hear everything around me. While I do have many playlists, sometimes I just like hearing an album or an artist’s work straight through and especially if it has an assault-like impact.
The Locust: Plague Soundscapes The Locust have been described as throwing Slayer and DeVo into a blender and then pressing a button labeled “particle accelerator”. IMHO, this record is their peak. It’s fast as hell, noisy, screamy with unintelligible vocals and nearly impossible to follow rhythmic timing. The entire record, at less than 23 minutes, is a blur. If you want something to keep you on a specific pace or provide sense of calm, look elsewhere. I find the chaos and speed inspiring and reflective.
A new and (maybe) better bike. As of 2020, I had modified and tinkered with my V1 Wreckoning such that it was nothing like when I first acquired it. Many friends and acquaintances had Evils at this point, but no one had done the kind of modifications I had. I got wind that an entirely new version of the Wreckoning, the v2, was on the horizon prior to any public announcements and knew that I wanted it. Many of the updates made it more like what I had turned mine into. This included a slacker head angle, steeper seat angle, slightly more travel and more poppy disposition. Best of all it came in black and had a built-in front triangle bottle mount. Alright! I’ll sell my old frame, put an order in for a new one, and be ready to roll…or not.
My opening discussion of technological advances in mountain biking has led us here. Those choices were my own, but now I was facing a new technology, tied to my next bike, that I had not specifically sought out. This was the adoption of the Super Boost 157 rear hub spacing** that was now on all of Evil’s new lineup. I will not let this devolve into a pissing match on industry standards. I viewed this change through my own personal lens of improved experience.
**Spoiler alert: Enduro Mag did not see any real benefit to Super Boost.
An immediate experience upon acquiring the Wreckoning V2 frame that was not fun was having to completely start over. I would have to buy an almost entirely new kit when I had thought things would be as usual where I could transfer most of my old kit onto a new frame. I know, boo-fucking-hoo or whatever. Still, as an itinerate Virgo I research, plan and budget things into the ground. However, this caught me off guard. I love hacks that can allow me to reuse and save shekels, but being that Super Boost had not been out very long, the bodges that did exist were fair to poor at best. Figuring out the crank spacing was a mother-scratcher due to the chain line changes from the wider hub. It was a noisy affair and not in a good way. Speaking of the wider hub, up until this bike there were kits from assorted aftermarket companies that you could use to mitigate changes in hub spacing e.g: 135-142 or 142-148. I found one that would take a 148 to 157, but it required completely relacing the wheel and then the change in spoke tension caused that rim to crack quickly. Ugh.
I eventually got the bike going after many expletive-laced shop hours, and some fun times would be on the horizon, but they would require gallant fighting to earn. It was mostly just a plethora of annoyances, but saying it like that seems more regal. I will get into more adventures/diatribes regarding this bike forthcoming. In the meantime, go forth ye knaves and honorably destroy!