Valuable lessons in spine maintenance

I have not ridden my bike in about a month. This is partly due to the fact that I was visiting Republic of Ireland and England for nearly two weeks (my brain is still on London time, which explains why I was up and writing this starting at 4:45 a.m.), but mostly because my first few rides on my new ROS 9 resulted in severe back pain.

I was able to ride the Castell Grind 100k without issue, but I have had to cut short all my trail rides after about an hour due to an aching lower back. It was unbearable and the pain would last for a few days. In an attempt to address this scientifically, I started listing variables that could cause this:

1. new bike is fitted differently
2. new bike is heavier than my old one
3. I am overly stoked on the new bike and riding harder/ differently
4. my body is mangled and this has finally manifesting itself in back pain

I concede that 1 through 3 are possibilities that should be addressed. I might end up paying a professional bike fitter to fine-tune my fit, but that seems like on unnecessary expense in my life right now. The new bike does fit a little differently, and it's slightly heavier, and I have been trying to manual and hop this bike quite a bit.

I took to internet message boards to help me narrow down what is going on and was told to set my bike up exactly like my old bike, fit it totally different, get a longer stem, a shorter stem, raise my handlebar, lower my handlebar, push my seat forward, push it back, get a softer seatpost, lower my tire pressure, and several other bits of advice that contradicted each other at every turn.

I have learned a lot about bike fit as a result of this pursuit, and also learned that everyone on the internet is an "expert," but more on that later.

[I preface everything else I am about to write with this caveat: I possess no medical expertise and an amateur understanding of bike fit and physiology. The following is based on my personal experiences, observations, and bits of knowledge I have gleaned from experts of varying levels of credibility. Take it all with a grain of salt and consult with a medical professional and/ or bike fitter for more information.]

That leaves my body, something better left to a medical professional. I have a history with back injuries from two car accidents, riding BMX for over 15 years, sitting for a desk job, manual labor, etc., and I have had mixed experiences with chiropractors. Despite what some people say about the practice (one person recently told me that they are all "chiroquacks"), I am convinced that no amount of stretching, exercise, "yoga" activity, bike fit adjustments, or painkillers are going to help if the spine is out of whack and a good chiro is the best person to deal with that.

On the advice of several local mountain bikers I know, I visited a nearby chiropractor a few weeks ago. He's a cyclist and his practice does everything, starting with x-rays and getting into adjustments, massage, physical therapy and training and he even does bike fittings. I was not terribly surprised to learn what his exam told me, but it's not terrific news.

My x-rays showed that I have a few issues going on:

1. my neck does not have a natural, healthy cervical lordosis. Instead, it curves slightly forward (kyphosis) and cantilevers my head in a forward position. It's subtle to the untrained eye, but it's definitely there. Some of the joints in my neck don't move very well and my head tilts slightly to the right, which is apparent in photos.
2. My lower back has some vertebrae that don't move freely. My lumbar lordosis is not quite what it ought to be.
3. My pelvis tilts forward and is not laterally level. I have an anterior pelvic tilt, which could be the result of several factors and habits I have.
4. My sacrum is tilted forward several degrees.

Since I was a child, despite being active and vaguely athletic, I have never been able to bend at the waist and touch my toes. Like many cyclists, have overdeveloped quads (front of thigh muscles that push pedals down) and weak, tight hamstrings, which somewhat explains the pelvic tilt and back pain. (I found an excellent article on Livestrong that describes this exact issue.)

Cycling likely exacerbated the pelvic problem to the state in which I find myself today. The muscles in front of my legs are strong and pulling down, keeping the weak muscles in back under constant tension, like a teeter totter with a really fat kid on one end. When I cantilever my upper body over the front of a bicycle and hammer on the pedals for hours, relying on my quads to do most of the work, it strains the lower back and, surprise!, it starts to ache miserably.

The chiropractor has me on a schedule of adjustments, training with a physical therapist and some home practices that will correct my spine over time and make it last.

Treatment is not cheap and it's unnerving to add this bill to my monthly expenses (I really need to find a way to earn more money, getting old is expensive and expensive is getting old), but I am convinced it's a good investment in my future health. I would rather make sacrifices now than have severe back problems in a decade or two that could keep me from working and enjoying life. At 35 years, I am not old, but I need to be intentional about these things.

In part II, I will explain what I have learned about bike fit and how I am learning to make my bike best accommodate the limits of my body.

ROS 9 cable routing

I wanted to add a little note about one minor frustation -- and a handy solution -- that I had with the new ROS 9.

The rear brake hose is apparently supposed to be routed under the down tube, under the bottom bracket, along the underside of the chainstay, then in front of the chainstay.

First of all, I was using a fairly long hose on my previous frame that ran under the top tube and down the seatstay, but routing the hose the way Niner intended made the hose dangerously short. It was feasible, but I knew I would be one handlebar-twisting crash away from ripping my hose out of my brake lever and needed to replace it anyways.

Secondly, I didn't like having the hose all exposed to rocks and such on the "outside" of the frame structure, preferring to have tacked away safely "inside" the frame.

The frame includes some hose hardware that bolts on and looks like it's perfect if you around anchoring two parallel hoses/housing along the frame for a brake and a derailleur or two, in addition to a dropper post cable or hose, but since my bike currently only has a rear brake, the hardware is unbalanced and inadequate for this singular duty.

nice 'n awkward

I made a trip to the local home improvement store and picked up a lifetime supply of these plastic cable clamps for under $2, plus some washers so I can bolt them down without smooshing the soft plastic into oblivion. I trimmed the square edges of three clamps into something that more closely resembles a round shape and bolted them to the underside of the top tube.

clean!

The frame does not have any sort of cable guides or braze-ons on the seatstays, so I had to fix the hose in place with two zip ties. I cinched them nice and tight to prevent the hose from getting too close the to tire, which could also spell disaster.

tucked in there

Shimano's design of the banjo bolt on that SLX caliper means I can point that hose any direction on that plane without affecting the brake's performance, which came in handy for this application.

I hope that helps people looking for alternate ways to route all the bits and bobs on their own bikes, whether you have multiple lockout switches or just a single rear brake.

New frame time! Niner ROS 9 first review

I have been itching for a new frame, something with a shorter chainstay for a more playful ride. The list of frames that check all the boxes (29er, steel, short chainstays, 44mm head tube, non-boutique price tag, etc) is a short one, so research should not have taken all the long. Nevertheless, in true 21st-century consumer form, I researched the daylights out of it. Contenders of note included the Canfield Nimble 9, Kona Honzo, Transition TransAM and Surly Karate Monkey. A few others made brief appearances on my list but were eliminated for various reasons (no longer in production, incompatibility with current components, price, etc) After careful consideration, I purchased a used Niner ROS 9 from an online seller on Pinkbike, which happens to be a fabulous place to find a deal on used gear.

I had some technical difficulties setting it up at first, but I'll get to that later. The ROS 9 (Roots of Steel or Ride Over S*** depending on who you ask), is made by a company that built it brand on the rising popularity of 29-inch tires and is a close cousin to the brand's every-popular SIR 9 (Steel Is Real) but with a more... [writer shutters at marketing jargon] "aggressive" design. Basically, it's more of a partying bike than a go-fast bike. It's relatively heavy because they built it out of big ol' tubes of steel, the rear end is shorter than the average XC frame (because wheelies), and the head tube angle is slacker so that the front wheel is more likely to go in a straight line when the trail gets rowdy and points downward. Based on reviews and riders' testimonies, I decided it would likely be an improvement over the Juice, which is an excellent frame in its own right.

Most companies making single-speedable bikes these days are utilizing sliding dropouts similar those available from Paragon Machine Works, or swinging dropouts. With those designs, the rear axle moves in relation to everything else on the bike to tension the chain. This also allows the rider to change the rear end length of the bike to accommodate their riding style, but realistically, most riders are going to slide the rear axle to the shortest position they can get, singlespeed or multi speed. The ROS 9, like most frames in its class, is not marketed as a singlespeed frame but it makes a great cadidate for a SS conversion if the rider so pleases.

Niner initially chose to build many of their frames with eccentric bottom brackets, a design that has fallen out of favor with most other manufacturers over the years. The EBB basically means that the center of the cranks can be rotated around an axis in the center of an oversized BB shell in the frame. On the surface, this is simply a way to tighten a singlespeed drivetrain, but it can also significantly change the geometry and, therefore, the fit and handling of the bike. Moving the cranks forward, rearward, up, or down creates many more options, which, I am learning, is a blessing and a curse.

The frame came together easily. The details on the frame are elegant- the "yoke" that connects the chainstays to the bottom bracket allows lots of chainring clearance, fat tire clearance, and room to shove the rear wheel very "forward" and still has room for a front derailleur in case you're still into those. The yoke also serves as a convenient shelf to collect and store mud from your rear tire, an option I hope not to use if I can find a way to make a fender for that area. The curved seat tube creates lots of room for the rear tire in this tucked position and has a plug for an internally routed dropper post, something I hope to try out in the near future. The shorter chainstay allowed me to remove two full links from the chain when I transferred the drivetrain from my Soma Juice to the ROS 9, which was very satisfying. The dropouts feature a 142x12mm Rockshox Maxle in place of a traditional quick release dropout, which necessitated buying a new axle for my hub. It seems like a great feature to bring my bike fully into the 21st century, albeit not to the cutting edge or Boost hubs. I can live without the Boost option. It's a good-looking bike. Round steel tubes with a few funky bends, subdued paint and graphics (with Niner's signature "Pedal Damn It" on the top tube), and a dropout sans derailleur hanger for a clean singlespeed setup. I was under the impression that this would be a "heavy" bike, but I am used to heavy bikes and the build was only slightly heavier than my Juice.

current form: 120mm fork, 34/21 drivetrain, offset seatpost, 60mm stem, 760mm riser bars, zombie head valve cap.

I have to say, the experience was not the night-and-day difference I had been lead to expect. I read and watched a lot of reviews of this and similar "AM hardtails" that had me believing on some level that this frame would have me fearlessly leaping off cliffs and manualing across the freshly-sawn log bridges that do not exist within several hundred miles of any place I have ever ridden.

The truth was much more subtle and I am trying to suss out what makes it different from what I have ridden in the past. The back end of the bike of the bike is significantly shorter, which makes wrangling the front of the bike easier, and the fork angle is a bit slacker than what I am used to which supposedly makes holding a line on the downhills easier. I have yet to push the bike hard enough to feel a significant difference or I am fairly tone deaf to these subtleties. However, the changes are welcome ones so far.

One snafu I encountered was in fitting the bike to my inflexible, average, quasi-athletic body. Stated briefly, subtle differences in frame geometry and component dimensions can have a significant effect on how a bike fits and handles. Case in point: My Juice had a conventional 72 degree seat tube angle and I had a 16mm offset seatpost on it. the ROS 9 has a 74 degree seatpost angle and the frame came with a non-offset seatpost. Putting the saddle at the same height as my old frame resulted in the saddle being shoved forward about 25mm relative to the cranks. combine that with the slacker head tube angle on the new frame and I lost over and inch of reach from the saddle to the bars by setting up the ROS 9 this way. A somewhat short ride of 15 miles on local trails ended with severe lower back pain from being hunched over the bike for two hours.

I am experimenting with adjustments to the fit that will accommodate me better. I built this frame one week before Castell Grind, a 63-mile gravel road "race" that I knew would turn into a torture session if I did not remedy these issues beforehand. Luckily, I was able to borrow a seatpost with 25mm of offset (which is a lot of offset) and an 80mm stem to stretch out the reach. I was very pleased with the results. I finished 100 kilometers of country roads on a very unconventional bike: "heavy" all-mountain singlespeed hardtail in about 4 1/2 hours, with a singlespeed drivetrain, nonetheless. I finished the ride with zero back pain. More on that later.

On trails, I feel I have a little more confidence blasting over rock gardens, down chutes, and hucking the bike up ledges than I did with the Juice. the Juice was long and smooth, whereas the ROS 9 is snappy. More to come on setting up the bike and tweaking it for better fit and handling.

May the Juice be with you- the final review

I have been riding my Soma Juice for over two years and I think it's time to say goodbye to this lovely brownstone steed. It's a beautifully designed frame- the hourglass headtube, curve stays, elegant use of sliding dropouts, versatility, durability, and smooth ride have all served me well. I rode this bike primarily off-road, tackling Austin chunk every week, and one gravel race, which turned out to be my favorite gravel race yet.

newborn Juice, January 2015

The above copy sounds like an advertisement because I have been reading bicycle reviews for so long. The brutal truth is that I was working at a bike shop at the time that I purchased this frame and it was literally my only option. I was riding a too-small Surly Karate Monkey, which is also and excellent bicycle frame, and I wanted to ride something longer in terms of reach. After two decades of getting my kicks on a 20" BMX bike, "small" mountain bikes seemed like a good idea to me, so I was riding a frame on which I felt comfortable at first, but time and miles on the trail showed me how squirrely handling can be and how unforgiving on the spine it is.

I wanted a steel 29er that would easily convert to single-speed use and not break the bank. Working in a bicycle shop means you don't make a lot of money and, with other financial priorities in my life besides purchasing bicycle parts, I could not afford to buy much of anything that was not subject to a hefty industry discount. The company for which I was working has recently lost its relationship with Surly, so a new Karate Monkey was out. Due to various levels of corporate nonsense, I was also forbidden to buy anything else from any other bike company with which my employer did not already have a business relationship, so that left me with the option to pay full-price for something from another retailer, or buy a Juice direct from the distributor. I chose the latter.

preparing for Full Moon Fever, a nighttime gravel race, which was canceled due to a steady downpour that turned the dirt roads to rivers.

I was not terribly excited about the Juice at first, feeling compelled by forces beyond my control to ride it over any other choices, but it turned out to be a great choice. I won't pretend that I can tell the subtle qualities of the metal tubes, the artistry of the welds, the "lateral/compliant" magical qualities of a "lively" bicycle that elevated me to mystical planes of existence. No, it's a piece of metal that connects two wheels and various components that translate human movement into locomotion. It does this much better than many other similar pieces of metal and it led to me having a lot of fun and burning a lot of calories in the process to make room for additional cookies that I would not have otherwise eaten.

it's peanut butter jelly time!

In short, the Juice was fun to ride, not very expensive and didn't keep me from doing anything I would not have otherwise done on a different bicycle frame.

At least that's what I tell myself.

a brief experiment with gears instead of single-speed

One thing that never felt entirely comfortable with on the Juice is the "weight" of the front end, which, for me has a lot to do with the chainstay length. Chainstay length on a mountain bike is a touchy subject, but I tend to land in the short camp. All other things equal, having the rear wheel tucked closer to you center of gravity makes it easier to shift your weight far enough behind the rear axle to huck the front wheel up onto or over whatever is in your way. Or just do a wheelie, which is an essential part of having fun on a bicycle.

The Juice is designed such that the sliding dropouts make the effective chainstay length about 445mm or just under 17.5". If you have gears on it, you can slam the sliders to this position and leave them there and this position is sufficient for many people, especially gearies. If you ride single-speed, you have to use the sliding position of the dropouts to tension the chain. With the range of effective chainstay lengths ranging from under 420mm (16.5") to ... much longer, the Juice limit of 445 leaves it on the long end of the spectrum.

Since I ride this bike with a single speed drivetrain most of the time, I have to make compromises, as all singlespeeders do. When the trail is flat and you want to go fast, there's a limit to how fast you can realistically go once you legs top out in RPMs. When the trail gets steep, the terrain loose, or you reach a series of rocky ledges, as often happens where I ride, most riders would shift to an easier gear, stay seated, and spin the cranks with relative leisure. It's still no picnic to spin your way up a hill in a low gear -- it's taxing on your heart and lungs. But with a single speed, you have to stand and "mash" the pedals in order to maintain momentum.

lightweight tires and a hard gear ratio made urban exploration rides fun on rainy days.

When a momentum-killing rock, ledge, patch of loose material, or change in topography presents itself, you have to react quickly, shifting your center of gravity on the bike to lift the front tire, unweight the back tire, or dig into the backside of and obstacle you have just cleared for that extra ounce of momentum. This is where bicycle designers have a conundrum that I don't envy: design a bike that is a compromise between stability and maneuverability. I think the Juice erred on the side of stability.

Climbing a hill on a singlespeed or navigating otherwise tricky terrain means shifting your weight around a lot, more so than you would need to with gears. To increase the amount torque applied to the rear wheel needed to keep going uphill, I need to change my body position so that my legs and piston the pedals up and down with more force. For me, that means standing up and getting forward a bit. Doing so, however, puts more weight on the front wheel and less on the back, increasing the chances of stalling out from a front-end collision or losing traction on the rear wheel and spinning out, thus ending the fun of painfully grinding my way up a ridiculous pitch of earth. If I lean back a bit to get the rear to bite harder, my legs lose some of the wattage I need to put into the pedals and I stall in lieu of ripping my knees apart or the pedals from the cranks. I am not sure which would go first.

What is the answer to this? The peanut gallery is saying "why don't you put gears on your bike, ya big dummy?" No, being stubborn is more fun and gives me writing fodder and another reason to be smug about riding my bike. No, really, the reasons for riding a single speed mountain bike are the subject of another session. The real answer has to do with what I mentioned earlier- is it the bike, or the rider? I think it's some combination of the two.

If I wanted to be able to rocket up and over all the difficult terrain I just described on a singlespeed bike, I could do one of two things:

1. ride more, get a stronger core and legs and arms, increase skill and vision to chose routes across the terrain that make those feats more likely to succeed.
2. change my bike in such a way that it is more conducive to my skills and body proportions for the terrain.

I only have so much time and patience for 1) so I am trying 2). This goes back to what I was saying about frame design and balance. Each rider has a different center of gravity; the amount of effort it takes to shift one's weight to increase traction or unweight the front or rear of the bike is different. Most frame manufacturers only take into account a rider's skeletal proportions so that the contact points of the bike (pedals, saddle, handlebar) fit proportionally for efficient, comfortable pedaling. However, as riders' heights vary, so do their center of gravity. But frame designers typically only change the dimensions of the front end of the bike and not the rear to account for riders sizes.

post-nighttime ride that turned a bit muddy.

For example, a few years ago, I helped a guy build a BMX bike for himself. This bike was designed for jumping, riding ramps, doing tricks, etc. With their small 20" tires, BMX bikes are very easy to toss around, but subtle changes in geometry can make the bike more stable or more "flickable." The trend in BMX bikes are the time was shorter and shorter chainstays. An older bike might have 14.5"-15" stays, especially if it was designed for racing or dirt jumping. At the time, chainstays were dipping well below 14" and pushing 13" to make the bike easier to flip around.

The problem was that this rider was six-and-a-half feet tall. The front end of the bike was designed with an extra-extra long top tube and he put the most enormous handlebar that he could find on it to accommodate his height. But the chainstay length remained true to the trend, extra short. With his height, lifting the front end required only the tiniest shift rearward, whereas a shorter rider would require more effort to do so. The result was that the bike was very unstable, difficult to find a balance point to manual it and easy to loop out and wind up laying on his back. He left the chain long enough that the rear axle was pushed as far back in the slots as was safe, but it still left a lot to be desired in terms of stability.

All this is to say that, while the Juice is a fantastic bike, I wanted something with a shorter chainstay so I can do wheelies on it and manhandle it over difficult terrain. All of my mountain bikes have been steel and rarely have seen gears, and the pool of available steel, 29er, singlespeedable framesets with short chainstays is a fairly short list. Stay tuned as I have already purchased and am now riding a new frame and will report on the new experience.

secret location

self-filmed video of Austin trails

I spent most of the day filming a video of myself (with a little help from trail guru Carl) and this is the result of many hours filming, editing clips, and cobbling together the footage. Enjoy!

All of the above video is taken within a few miles of trails near my home. I had trouble getting perspective on the terrain. The rather bouncy downhill sections and chunky climbs I am doing here look much more mellow than reality. I thought it was funny to include ten takes on the same climb, which is littered with little ledges and fat roots, only to discover that the angle only makes me look like an idiot who can't ride a bike in a straight line. I will need to work on that so my next video project is more compelling.

Bonus little behind-the-scenes info: I filmed this on my Samsung Galaxy 5s, which I always have on me anyway. I have made some cheesy videos in the past with a smart phone learning on a rock or bungee-corded to a tree. This time around, I went all-out and spent a whopping $13 on a flexible tripod that allowed me to balance and aim the camera exactly where I want it by perching it on a rock, warping around a tree brand, or standing it on the ground.

Filming took all day and I had to stop by the house halfway through to recharge my phone and eat a ridiculous sausage, which is also profiled in the film.

Further bonus info! These will probably be the last images of my riding the Soma Juice frame. It's been a great frame but I am trying something new. A more thorough review of the Juice is coming soon.

waterproof socks

My feet get cold easily. I probably have a medical condition. It's one of the many reasons why I can't imagine moving back to the Midwest, where I grew up. No amount of layers of socks made from cotton, synthetics, wool, baby seal or tauntaun guts (unless said tauntaun is really fresh, like warm saurkraut) can help me. I need an external heat source. The feeling of constantly-numb toes horrifies me so much that I would need to make a heavy investment in foot-warming apparatus before spending any significant amount of time up there again.

The only thing worse than cold feet is cold feet that are also wet. Since most of the cold water on might encounter while riding a bicycle is on the ground, it makes sense that keeping your feet dry would be important. Enter Dexshell socks. There are a few other makers of waterproof socks on the market but these are a little cheaper than the others and I got a pair for Christmas this year. I finally had the opportunity to put them to the test this weekend.

I joined some friends for an urban ramble on a foul Texas "winter" day of overcast skies, drizzily atmostphere, and frigid sub-50 temperatures! OK, it was not that cold, but cool enough to make getting wet miserable. We had planned to ride from a friend's east-side home to a park on the north side from town, then south through the city and back over to the house. I had time to do about half of that and learned that a rigid 29er with fat knobbies is not the worst road bike choice after all.

At one point, we made a point of going off-road, despite the soggy conditions and the fact that none of us was riding a bona fide mountain bike. We abandoned the world of pavement as soon as we could and followed a jeep road for a while, hoping it would eventually lead us back to civilization. Before we made our way back to pavement, we had to traverse a boggy area that resulted in wet shoes all around. Seeing the water, I realized that, given the misery that cold feet gives me, I would probably be scurrying home once I felt the water sloshing around in my shoes. So I took the plunge.

Cold? Yes! But dry. Dexshell socks held up to this first test. I learned that my toe covers and my shoes hold water well, and that cold water surrounding my feet for the next few hours certainly was not fun, but much better than being wet.

We kept riding and at one point I peeled off to head home. I stayed dry for most of the rest of the trip and lost feeling in my toes, as was expected. I learned that wet shoes are still cold shoes, so if you really want to keep feeling your toes, you need more than waterproof socks, but the socks are a good start.

[followed this concrete wall for a part of my journey. good message!]

Texas Chainring Massacre report

Half of the fun of mountain biking, for me at least, is exploring and just pedaling for as long as I can be out before life's obligations call me back. The other half is about technical challenges. Sometimes I want to focus on the latter, and I can find plenty of nearby trails to challenge me in that regard. The best way to do the former is a gravel grinder, a popular race/fun ride format that involves riding long courses on unpaved, rural roads.

I have done a few of these over the years, including The Holy Roller, Castelle Grind, and the Texas Chainring Massacre. Previously, I have ridden cyclocross-type bikes that I have owned (Pake C'mute, Salsa Vaya, Soma Double Cross Disc) and, while those bikes have been great for this kind of riding with 32-42mm knobby tires, I took the plunge a few months ago and sold my last CX bike and committed to making my Soma Juice hardtail 29er my only bike. With a little bit of adapting, a mountain bike makes a great gravel grinder. Most of the hundreds of other people riding around me (and past me!) were riding cyclcross/gravel-specific bikes for good reason, but I just wanted to do this for fun and finish these events strong with my bike.

In addition to riding what many will consider a sub-optimal bike for a gravel race, I chose to try this last event, the 2017 Texas Chainring Massacre 100k on a single-speed bike. To make my bike gravel-ready, I had to change a few things from my usual trail setup:

*replaced the 120mm suspension fork with a rigid Salsa Chromoto Grande fork. This fork has a tapered steerer tube like my squish fork, and a 15mm through axle, so I didn't need to do anything different with my front wheel.

[Salsa rigid fork]

*swapped my 60mm stem and 740mm riser bar for a 100mm stem and 640mm flat bar. I also put some bar ends and TOGS. Since most riders use a bike with a drop handlebar for additional hand positions, I felt that this was the next best thing, and I ended up using 3-4 hand positions over my hours on the road

*gearing- this was a tough call. I live in Austin and the event is held in north Texas. I had ridden CRM two years ago on a geared bike and did not remember the terrain well enough to know how much climbing would be involved. Knowing I would not have the options of shifting gears meant picking a gear that would cruise well on the flat sections and be easy enough to pedal up the hills. I went with a 38t front chainring and an 18t rear in place of the 32/20 combo that I usually use. As a bail-out option, I slid a 20t cog on next to the first cog, so that I could wrap my chain around it without too much drama and hobble to the finish on a slightly easier gear.

[big ol' KMC singlespeed chain actually didn't play nice with my Raceface narrow-wide ring, so I put an old 10-speed chain on instead]

*tires- this is, in my opinion, the thing that can make or break a gravel grind experience. I have ridden these events on 32mm Contintal Race Kings, 42mm Conti Speed Rides, and 35mm WTB Cross Boss tires. Every time I do one of these rides, I start to think "man, I wish I had bigger tires on my bike. next time I'll put some fatties on!"

While the Cross Boss has been my favorite "skinny" tire so far (partially due to the effortless tubeless application), I found a good deal on some Schwalbe Thunderburt tires in a 29x2.1 size and chose those over the Specialized Renegades that were competing for my attention. Thunderburts are light, supple, and fast on hardpack and on pavement, and the casing is big enough to roll at lower pressures. They seated easily on my WTB rims and have been grippy enough for some nimble singletrack riding.


The Chainring Massacre experience was my best gravel race yet. Kevin and the Spinistry team have upped their game this year with a much better-organized event than my last experience. There were hundreds of riders, timing chips, well-marked turns on the course for people riding different distances, and credit for free food/ liquor in the little town square at the end of the ride. The route took us through beautiful, remote farm roads and lots of challenging gravel, rolling hills, and folks willing to spin and chat once the group spread out enough.

As I mentioned, hand position options were a great idea for my mountain bike. I am having a harder and harder time making the case for myself that I should ever own a drop-bar bike again when I can ride narrow flat bars with ends and get the same effect (for my purposes, at least, YMMV). Tires were spectacular, I brought plenty of snacks and water, and I dressed warm enough for the ride that started just about freezing and ended in the low 50s. My toes quickly went numb and stayed that way for the duration of the ride, and I don't recall stopping to pee at any point. Pedaling and drinking water and not peeing for that period of time is probably not healthy.

I managed to finish in just over 5 hours and I was the 200th rider to complete the 100k distance. That is not impressive my any means, but I was riding against at least one Tour de France champion and handicapped myself with a relatively heavy bike with only one gear. I was perfectly pleased with my performance, though. I rode strong the whole time, only stopped once at the lone water station to refill, and didn't walk any of the hills, as much as my legs wanted me to.

Looking back, I would have geared down just a tiny bit to help with the hills (maybe a 19t cog instead of 20t) and shoved some warmers in my shoes to prevent the numbness that plagued me the whole way. Looking forward to next year. Before that, I have Castell, Holy Roller, and whatever urban rambles I can cobble together in the meantime.

[The Juice getting some well-earned R&R]