First Time on TwoNine

My virtue is intact, for the moment. I’m dressed and stewing in my chamois, but I have yet to truly experience a 29er in the wild. I rode a short, rough climb on Jerry Willows’ bike last year – probably less than a minute – but otherwise that’s it. By a slim margin I’ve actually spent more trail time on 650b than 29er.

I’ve resisted but I have to admit I’m big wheel curious. Like every mountain biker I have heard the hype, but I rarely trust evangelists. There are some compelling stories though. Mike Ferrentino told us that last year Santa Cruz sold more Tallboys than any other model in their line – twice as many, in fact. I’ve heard about lower rolling resistance, better traction, superior climbing abilities in technical situations and the need for less suspension. Someone recently told me that among the ranks of World Cup XC racers every rider is now on wagon wheels. Not most or only the big riders – every single last lycra wearing, EPO swilling leg shaver. That got my attention. The party line is that larger wheels make riding easier and perhaps, in some situations and on some platforms, they allow you to go faster. Faster I like, but do I really want easier? More fun is really my main objective. Could a 29er be more fun? Even here on the North Shore?

  The anticipation builds.

My skepticism has persisted through all of this. I like 26″ wheels. I like the agility of the bikes I ride and their playfulness. These days I generally opt for a nimble machine over one that will pound through obstacles and my favourite bikes always corner well – which some say is a weakness of 29ers. I’m also in a stable relationship with several bikes already and I’m not sure I want some long-legged starlet leading me astray, changing my appetite, and maybe even my orientation. (Seb Kemp told me 29ers are soo gay).

But you can only resist so long, and this particular specimen, the Specialized Stumpjumper Evo 29er, is persistent. And she’s aimed squarely at the kind or riding we do around here. So I’m off to see how far up Fromme I can get without the snow slowing me down, and then I’ll point her carefully downhill.

  Lots of flat and glossy black and 80s yellow make the Evo stand out.

Will I be gobsmacked by the experience? Screaming to the heavens that 26″ wheels are dead, I’m king of the world and that only small people and tweens will ride two six? Maybe in two hours time I’ll be predicting that even downhill rigs will be wearing clown shoes by 2013. 

There have been some pivotal firsts in my less-than-illustrious ‘career’ as a mountain biker, moments that changed my riding trajectory and got me to the next level. Will this be one of them?

We’ll know shortly.

The Walk of Shame
My return was not triumphant. It wasn’t a complete bust either but the conditions were a bit of a shit show. The road up was frozen footprints bisected by a sinewed, icy ribbon. The snow melted after the most recent dump and then froze again. The only way to pedal was to follow the frozen, knobbied 6″ wide track from the day before. It seemed like I was having an easier time than expected preserving my momentum and finding grip, but it’s not a condition I encounter enough to compare accurately.

  It all looked so promising.

By the third switchback the pedalling was done and I pushed to the 4th corner where there is an entrance to Ladies Only. I was hoping condtions would be better in the trees – and they were slightly – but anything built was covered in ice. I didn’t notice feeling any more or less comfortable than usual – but walking across a frozen teeter totter doesn’t tell you much about a bike.

Finally, at the top of Big Stupid, the snow became rideable. The only thing I noticed was that it took a little extra effort to tip the bike over in the berms. Not noticing much on a brand new bike is a very good sign though because usually there is something to get acccustomed to or adjust, and shortcomings feel pronounced when a bike is strange. The bars are nice and wide, the stem short, the tires more than adequate and the geometry seemed bang on as well.

  So great it rides itself! The conditions were perfect… to stand your bike up for a picture.

Below the Baden Powell it was all dirt, and because the earth was frozen the grip was excellent. I was able to charge without much thought which impressed me. There were a few occasions to get the bike off the ground but the 29er Evo wasn’t eager to pop. After the descent I climbed some singletrack, and here there were some noticeable advantages. There were two tough sections I rarely make, both with roots spaced at awkward points. I dabbed after making it to the top of one section and cleaned the other easily, with a guilty smile on my face.

  The log and teeter totter can be ridden in some snow conditions – but today it was too slippery to walk across.

The most telling section of trail was at the exit onto Mill St. This dark corridor is bony, rooty, steep and uneven and it’s spooked me recently. The Evo had no trouble at all with this short section of brutality. That got my attention.

With the poor conditions and the brevity of the ride I’m afraid I’ve come to no tidy conclusions. I wasn’t blown away but my skepticism wasn’t fuelled either. I guess I’ll have to take her out again. It’s the burden I bear.

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Have you popped your 29er cherry? Were you, like many, blown away after your first ride?