Mountain Bike Review » Kurt Gensheimer

200+ miles and 30,000+ feet of climbing, all above 9,500 feet elevation…on a singlespeed of course.

Editor’s Note: The Angry Singlespeeder is a collection of mercurial musings from contributing editor Kurt Gensheimer. In no way do his maniacal diatribes about all things bike oriented represent the opinions of Mtbr, RoadBikeReview, or any of their employees, contractors, janitorial staff, family members, household pets, or any other creature, living or dead. You can submit questions or comments to Kurt at singlespeeder@consumerreview.com. And make sure to check out Kurt’s previous columns.

After spectating at the Leadville Dirt Fondo on Saturday and watching Alban Lakata crush the course, setting a new record at 6:04:01, I headed on over to Breckenridge for a real mountain bike race; the six-day, 200+ mile Breck Epic stage race. Breckenridge is a panacea of mountain biking, with hundreds of miles of singletrack leaving right from town in every direction. The Breck Epic starts each day in the same place and finishes in town, making logistics and accommodations easy for all participants. The only downside – at least for lowlanders – is the 9,500 foot base elevation, with some climbs hitting 12,000 feet. Ugh.

Although this is my virgin Breck Epic voyage, I have the privilege of rooming with Breck Epic veteran and sleeveless jersey hero, Rich “Dicky” Dillen who’s done the race four times previous. His vast knowledge of the course will come in handy, although it seems the only details he can feed me are limited to “you climb for a while, then you descend for a while. Oh, and its rocky sometimes.”

Our work is cut out for us, considering there’s more than 20 singlespeeders competing in the Breck Epic. Some of them are absolute freaks of nature, so for both Dicky and me, achieving a podium finish on any of the six stages would take an act of God or a perfectly executed and masterful act of sabotage.

As race director Mike McCormack indicated in the pre-race meeting, Stage 1 was going to break us in easy; only 36 miles and 5,500 feet of climbing. The race started under perfect conditions, low 50s and not a cloud in the sky. Even though we’ve got more than 200 miles of riding ahead of us, the pace up the first paved “neutral” climb was nuts.

Refusing to chase the rabbit, I settled into a comfortable tempo and enjoyed the hero dirt, beautiful aspen groves and breathtaking scenery. That is until we hit the first big dirt climb in earnest, spiking skyward to 11,600 feet. Then all I was looking at was the sweat dripping into my eyeballs and my legs turning the agonizing cadence of 30 rpm.

In order to try and offset the ill effects of altitude, Dicky, my other roommate Luke and me had a group beet juice session early in the morning. We were still huffing and puffing like a smoker with asthma, but it definitely took the edge off and allowed me to at least ride a majority of the climbs without walking. I was worried running a 34:19 gear (on a 26” wheel) was going to be a bit tall, at least for Stage 1 it was perfect.

Dicky and I traded punches for a while, with him passing me on the climbs and me returning the favor on the downhills. We grouped up with another singlespeed hammer by the name of Tim. His gray hair told me he was no spring chicken, and when I asked his age, he said 52. Immediately after that he mashed gear and completely dropped my ass. Eventually I caught back up to him on a downhill, and asked again just to confirm. Yep, still 52. Damn. Dude is a freaking hammer and is just barely old enough to be my dad. Much respect.

After a ten-minute hike-a-bike session, some sweet singletrack downhill was the payoff. But unfortunately for me, the absolute best section of singletrack in the last three miles of Stage 1 was dampened by a slightly cut sidewall that wouldn’t seal. Thankfully I had enough air cartridges to keep the tire from completely deflating, but stopping five times and nursing a front tire with 10 psi on the funnest section of downhill singletrack back into Breckenridge was a bummer, especially after all the climbing that was put in. Ended up 7th for the day. Not bad. Hopefully I can crack a top five sometime this week.

Six-Day Open Men saw a battle between Todd Wells (Specialized) and Alex Grant (Cannondale), with Wells eking out the victory by a scant two seconds. Defending champion Ben Sonntag (American Interbanc/Cannondale) was a couple minutes back in third.

“The three of us rode off pretty quick,” said Wells. “I attacked up the steep rocky climb and we got rid of Ben. At the end I knew it was all downhill to the finish so I sprinted for the singletrack. It was a full sprint downhill from there.”

Wells is fresh off a solid third place at Leadville on Saturday, a race he didn’t feel great for.

“I actually felt better today than yesterday,” said Wells. “Had a horrible night’s sleep before Leadville. I knew pretty quick I wasn’t on a good day. At Powerline it was lights out.”

The Six Day Women’s Open saw Sue Haywood (Stan’s NoTubes) take the victory over second place and 2012 winner Amanda Carey (Stan’s NoTubes), with Kate Aardal (Ridley’s Cycle) coming in third.

Stage 2 is 38 miles with 5,300 feet of climbing and features a stretch on the world famous Colorado Trail. McCormack called today a classic “Breckenridge ride”, while tomorrow is a classic “Colorado ride”. Not sure what the difference is, but I’ll find out tomorrow.

In summary, Stage 1 was definitely a nice way to get broken into the incredible riding that Breckenridge has to offer. It was challenging without being murderous, but from what I hear, the murder doesn’t come until Stage 4 when we ascend the notorious Wheeler Peak. Hopefully by then I’ll be breathing a little easier. I’m gonna need it.

Breck Epic Stage 1 Results.

Hail, hike-a-bike and hero dirt highlight the toughest climbing stage of all six days.

Rich Dillen aka Dicky and me before I got lost on Stage 2.

In the open categories, Todd Wells (Specialized) and Sue Haywood (NoTubes) each scored stage 3 wins. That was the third straight stage win for Wells, who now has a commanding 3:47 lead over second-placed Alex Grant (Sho-Air/Cannondale), with German Ben Sontag third at 11:28.

In the women’s overall, stage 2 winner Amanda Carey (NoTubes) is in the top spot, 4:34 up on Kate Aardal, with Haywood third at 4:41.You can see full results HERE.

As my esteemed colleague Jason Sumner mentioned in his thorough Stage 2 review, I got lost. It wasn’t just a minor oversight got lost. It was a bomb 1.5 miles down the steepest, sketchiest, 1,000 vertical foot downhill only to hike-a-bike back up got lost. I’ve never cursed so much in my entire life pushing my bike up a veritable wall of rock and dirt. It was at least a 25-minute detour, adding an extra 1,000 feet of climbing and three miles to the already brutal 38-mile and 5,300 vertical feet Stage 2. Lesson learned: don’t ever trust the two guys bombing downhill in front of you know where they’re going.

At 12,000 feet, Mt. Guyot is a brutal hike-a-bike, but the views and downhill payoff are worth the effort.

Stage 3 was an absolute beast, with 36 miles and 6,564 feet vertical feet of soul crushing uphill. One of the climbs went to the saddle next to Mt. Guyot, putting us around 12,000 feet. Unfortunately I was too preoccupied with hyperventilation and pushing my bike for twenty minutes at a time to really take in the glorious scenery.

I’ve never pushed my bike more than at the Breck Epic, and although it sounds completely unappetizing, the downhill payoffs are simply amazing. Everything from above tree line ribbon singletrack to super technical, deep woods East Coast style riding loaded with square edge rocks, slippery roots and tight switchbacks, the Breck Epic offers something for everyone.

For those who love active participation from Mother Nature, the Breck Epic features bonus material like pea-sized hail that falls with such force that the pain of it pelting your body completely numbs the pain you’re feeling in your legs. The hail came down with fury as I descended Colorado Trail, scattering little white frozen marbles all over the ground; a surreal sensation unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

My whole goal for Stage 3 was to simply survive. The plan was to just ride a comfortable pace all race and not chase anyone. I stuck to the plan, and very much to my surprise, I hike-a-biked my way into third place on the climb to the Continental Divide. Turns out I’m a better hike-a-biker than an actual climber.

One thing I’ve learned riding here in Breckenridge is when a local tells you “you’re almost there” or “it’s just a short climb”, don’t ever believe them. “You’re almost there” translates to at least five miles and “just a short climb” translates to a minimum of 500 vertical feet.

After a second hike-a-bike session on the final big climb, I was running on fumes and careened downhill determined to hold onto a third place finish. But what I expected was the finish line was actually another two miles away and a short uphill push. Just as the seams started to burst, the hail came again, this time harder. The mud started flying into my eyes, the trail started getting slippery and my focus was waning.

The finish line had to be close, I could hear the music and announcer on the PA system. But race promoter Mike McCormack loves to mess with our minds, gratuitously running us within shouting distance of the finish for as much as two miles. After four hours on the bike, all you want to be is done and you can taste the finish line, but it never quite seems to come.

Finally I crossed the finish line a little cold, a little wet and a lot blown out. I looked back and no more than 10 seconds later, the fourth and fifth place singlespeeders crossed the line. I barely held it together and managed a podium finish, something I didn’t think was possible considering the enormous talent that’s here in Breckenridge.

A completely unexpected 3rd place finish for the ASS on Stage 3.

The last thing I wanted to think about after punishing my body all day was the prospect of racing again tomorrow. Stage 4 is another knee to the crotch, featuring 43 grueling miles and nearly 6,500 feet of climbing.

Every day at the Breck Epic is a new adventure, but what doesn’t change are the stellar trails, mind blowing views, outstanding organization, incredible volunteer support and captivating enthusiasm for this absolutely one-of-a-kind experience on a mountain bike. As much as its gonna hurt, in a strangely masochistic way, I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow.

The ASS Goes to Breckenridge »
The Angry Singlespeeder: Breck Epic Stage 1 »
Breck Epic Stage 2: Lessons From The Trail »
Breck Epic Stage 4: Suffering and Singletrack »

The final stage of the Breck Epic wraps up with two trips over the Continental Divide.

Riders prepare for the final stage. Photo credit: Liam Doran.

Whew. It’s over. Without a doubt, the Breck Epic has been the hardest event I’ve ever done on a bicycle; nearly 240 miles and 40,000 feet of climbing, all above 9,500 feet elevation, all on a singlespeed. At least that’s what it says on every finisher’s BRK EPIC belt buckle, along with the words “Bad Motherf*cker”. Damn straight.

Every finisher receives this much deserved belt buckle.

There are many things I learned this past week in the Breck Epic. First is that I’m pretty good at pushing my bike up a mountain. I’ve never pushed my bike more than at the Breck Epic, so hike-a-bike until now has been a completely undiscovered talent. The two stages with the most hike-a-bike – Mt. Guyot Stage 3 and Wheeler Pass Stage 5 – were the two stages I managed to pull off a third place finish in the singlespeed class.

If you want to survive the Breck Epic, get good at hiking your bike. Photo Credit: Eddie Clark.

Another thing I learned was that trying to take a swig of water while climbing can ruin your entire day. At 10,000 feet – especially if you’re a lowlander – you need every single breath imaginable to keep the engine running. Even one slight interruption in breathing can ruin everything. I found myself choking on water numerous times this week while trying to sneak a drink when climbing. Tiny sips more frequently were the answer.

A third thing I learned is that above 12,000 feet, when you point your bike downhill, thanks to the incredibly thin air, your bike accelerates faster than you could ever imagine. Brakes howl, pads melt and your forearms feel like overcooked noodles by the bottom of every descent.

Nothing captured this sensation better than the Stage 5 excursion to the top of Wheeler Pass. At the 12,500-foot summit of Wheeler, nothing but scrub about six inches high survives, creating a moonscape environment laden with rocks and thin air. The 30-minute hike-a-bike was a relentless slog, a colorful, lycra-clad death march to the heavens. The reward was breathtaking views – literally – a bacon handup and an absolutely ripping 2,500 foot descent, where the brave were rewarded so long as they kept the rubber side down.

Riders take on the first climb of the final stage. Photo credit: Liam Doran.

The Final Stage

Stage 6 was the final test, a relative cakewalk compared to the five previous stages. Only 31 miles in distance and 3,500 feet of climbing, Stage 6 went over the Continental Divide twice at 11,500 feet elevation and featured the famous Gold Dust trail, a ripping fun singletrack that follows an old gold prospecting route.

When you weren’t head down, grinding away at the pedals with what little energy you had left in your legs, the breathtaking scenery of the Continental Divide was on full display for all riders ascending Boreas Pass road. It was a gift for those who recognized it, with commanding, 360-degree views and a rare opportunity to cross over the Continental Divide twice.

Topeak/Ergon gave PBR handups to all riders before the final descent. Photo credit: Liam Doran.

After riders crested the divide a second time, Team Topeak/Ergon gave celebratory sudsy handups to all riders before the final descent back into Breckenridge. It was a welcome reward to all who conquered this incredibly difficult trial on a bicycle.

Kyosuke Takei barely edges out Alex Grant for the Stage 6 win.

Crowning the Mountain Bike Stage Race World Champions

The Open men saw an exhilarating sprint finish in Stage 6 between Alex Grant and the Japanese rider Kyosuke Takei, with Takei barely edging out Grant at the line.

Todd Wells finished close behind in third place on the day and wrapped up the six days of racing with an incredibly fast 16:49:16, making Wells the 2013 Mountain Bike Stage Race World Champion. Wells edged out second place Grant by only 9 minutes, 4 seconds. 2012 Champion Ben Sonntag came in third with a total time of 17:18:55.

Todd Wells is the 2013 Breck Epic winner and Mountain Bike Stage Race World Champion.

Amanda Carey successfully maintained her lead, taking the Women’s Open Mountain Bike Stage Race World Title with a total time of 21:47:00. Kate Aardal put up a tough fight, edging out Carey for the final stage win, putting her in second overall with a total time of 21:56:51. Sue Haywood finished third overall with a total time of 22:08:09.

Amanda Carey is the 2013 Breck Epic winner and Mountain Bike Stage Race World Champion.

Since the UCI hasn’t laid claim to a Mountain Bike Stage Race World Championship, race promoter Mike McCormack took it upon himself to own the title. Every category winner received a Breck Epic champion’s jersey with the iconic world champion rainbow bands on the shirtsleeves.

McCormack and his crew pulled off another Herculean effort putting together the Breck Epic, practically working around the clock to ensure the highest level of customer satisfaction for everyone involved. Everything McCormack and his crew of selfless, dedicated staff and volunteers do is catered to the needs of the riders. No matter how strange the requests – whether for pickles and peanut butter on a piece of bread or marshmallow fluff and potato chips – when a request is made, McCormack obliges.

“These riders turn themselves inside out. It’s an incredibly hard race,” said McCormack after the event. “And we have amazing people who help make sure they get what they need so everyone finishes safely.”

The hardest of all hardmen – Chris Latura rode all week on a fully rigid Bianchi singlespeed. Photo credit: Liam Doran.

This year saw an entirely new Enduro category, which added to the complexity of an already logistically challenging event. People submitted their Strava usernames and competed in several predetermined Enduro downhill segments across the six-stage event.

Although there were some minor teething issues, for a first attempt, the Enduro class went surprisingly well, and will most likely be featured again next year. Breckenridge local Nick Truitt is the unofficial male winner of the Enduro competition while Kate Aardal is expected to take the women’s title.

Then there was the unofficial Stage 7 after party at the Gold Pan Saloon. I started the stage, danced and drank for a while, but quickly grew tired of the competition on the dance floor who mistook the party for an America’s Got Talent breakdancing audition. Being sweaty, hot, out-of-breath and constantly getting bumped into by another hot, sweaty and out-of-breath guy got old quick. It was the only stage I ended up quitting early.

Pain is Only Short Term

After the final stage, I swore to my friends up and down that I would never do this event again on a singlespeed. It’s hard enough on a geared bike. But pain is only short-term. I’m sure that in only a few weeks I’ll forget the incredible amounts of suffering and sign on for another week of painful pleasure racing across some of the most awe striking terrain in the world.

Dan Durland takes the singlespeed title and dons the illustrious disco ball helmet.

The Breck Epic was without a doubt the hardest and most rewarding adventure I’ve ever undertaken. It tests every aspect of a mountain biker including fitness, technical skill, climbing ability, hike-a-biking, mental toughness and perseverance while trying to function more than two miles above sea level. It might possibly be one of the hardest races you can do on a mountain bike. Sound fun? 2014 registration is open now, so sign up before it sells out.

The ASS Goes to Breckenridge »
The Angry Singlespeeder: Breck Epic Stage 1 »
Breck Epic Stage 2: Lessons From The Trail »
The Angry Singlespeeder: Breck Epic Stage 3 »
Breck Epic Stage 4: Suffering and Singletrack »
Breck Epic Stage 5: Yep, That Was Epic »

Sho-Air International President Scott Tedro cuts ties with USAC and reaches out to the cycling community to raise funds for riders going to the MTB World Championships in South Africa.

Scott Tedrow’s Team Sho-Air/Cannondale.

Scott Tedro calls himself “just a guy who moves boxes for a living”. But Tedro is far more than that, especially to the mountain biking community. For nearly a decade, Tedro’s Sho-Air International has been an enthusiastic supporter of mountain biking in the United States, bankrolling the U.S. Cup mountain bike series, Team Sho-Air/Cannondale and acting as the title sponsor of the National Interscholastic Cycling Association (NICA).

Over the last eight years, the U.S. Cup has promoted and subsidized more than 110 mountain bike events sanctioned by USA Cycling. But the recent uproar over the controversial rule 1.2.019 that prohibits licensed UCI pro and amateur riders from competing in non-USAC sanctioned events has left Tedro and his Team Sho-Air/Cannondale in a precarious situation.

“This UCI rule has been around for years, but it’s intended for highly compensated riders,” said Tedro. “Say I have a grand fondo and invite Peter Sagan to ride in it. If he crashes or gets hurt, he’s unable to race in a major tour. That’s what the rule is for. It’s not for riders like Alex Grant who make a small salary and still has a full time job. A rider like Alex shouldn’t be sanctioned, but USAC insists on incorrectly trying to enforce this rule.”

Alex Grant is fresh off a 2nd place Overall finish at the Breck Epic.

Tedro is at wits end with USAC, not just because of Rule 1.2.019, but also because of the all-take, no-give attitude of USAC. He has obliged every time that USAC has come to him asking for money and support, he even helped them create their PRO XCT Series.

Tedro has hosted more PRO XCT and PRO UET events than any other US promoter, but the money never ends up going to help make the organization better for the sport of mountain biking. The rules and requirements for the PRO XCT & UET events change every year and are rarely enforced. Even USAC President Steve Johnson claims it’s not a series, but simply a “Calendar of Events”.

“USA Cycling is very inconsistent with their direction,” said Tedro. “They ask you to conform a certain way, only to completely change their mind a year later. If I ran my business the way they run theirs, I’d be out of business.”

The latest controversy arose when USA Cycling announced the list of eligible riders for the Mountain Bike World Championships in South Africa on August 26 – September 1. Much to everyone’s surprise, one of America’s most talented and decorated riders – Jeremiah Bishop of Team Sho-Air/Cannondale – was missing from the list.

Jeremiah Bishop was not nominated by USAC for the World Championships.

USAC claims that the reason why Bishop was missing was because he did not automatically qualify and did not submit an athlete nomination petition to be considered for a spot. Further, this year USAC is able to nominate a maximum of five males and five females for the World Championships. USAC only nominated three males, an action that Tedro finds inexcusable.

“USAC has the responsibility of ensuring the best representation possible of the United States at the World Championships, so why would you only nominated three riders when you have a maximum of five? If Jeremiah didn’t submit the required paperwork, why didn’t USAC either contact me or Jeremiah to find out why?”

Tedro claims that part of the reason why Bishop was not nominated was because someone at USAC heard second hand that Bishop wasn’t interested in going. This hearsay behavior is inexcusable to Tedro, a personality who has invested hundreds of thousands of dollars into mountain biking over the past decade.

Jeremiah Bishop airing it out.

“This is a business, and USAC is not anywhere close to operating like one. Jeremiah Bishop is my employee. He is Cannondale’s employee. It’s up to us to determine if it’s important enough to send our rider to Worlds. As a business, USAC should have nominated the maximum number of riders and sent us a letter stating that our riders have qualified. Then we determine whether or not our riders want to participate.”

Aside from the nomination debacle, USAC further claims that they don’t have the budget to pay for or subsidize the all of 35 American riders to the World Championships in South Africa. The trip will cost each rider between $3,500 and $4,000, a healthy chunk of change that USAC apparently hasn’t raised, and Tedro wonders if they even attempted to. So Tedro decided to step forward and raise money.

“Without any help from USAC, in a matter of three days we were able to reach out to the cycling community and raise more than 20,000 dollars from donations. Three days. USAC has had nearly a year to raise funds for Worlds, and they weren’t able to do it. They continually use the excuse that they don’t have the proper resources, yet I can set up a donation page, humbly ask others to help and in three days have enough money to give each rider a check for nearly 600 dollars.”

“We should expect a lot more from our federation,” added Tedro. “The mountain bike community has an incredibly positive and healthy vibe, as witnessed by many successful races like the Whiskey Off-Road thriving without any help from USAC.”

“But until USAC starts running their organization like a business with the interests of all of their paying customers – mountain bikers included – I no longer support USAC and will drive for wholesale change. It is with a heavy heart that this is the decision USAC has forced upon me, as I would love to support our federation, however until I see an earnest attempt to serve the customer, I am done with them.”

Strong words from a man who has singlehandedly kept mountain biking from suffering a second huge decline. Let’s hope USAC gets the message and starts making some wholesale changes for the better in Colorado Springs.

If you’d like to help donate to the cause sending American riders to the World Championships, visit the MTB Worlds Riders Fund and give whatever you can.

Slated right in between the Breck Epic and the Pro Cycling Challenge, Breck Bike Week has a welcoming, laid-back atmosphere perfect for families.

Breckenridge boasts world-class singletrack trails all riding distance from town. Photo Credit: Byron Swezy CBST Adventures.

Breckenridge, Colorado is the most visited skiing destination in America, and in the last ten years, Breckenridge has also become one of the most popular summer cycling destinations thanks to its extensive network of singletrack trails and outstanding road riding. Whether your tire preference is on the knobby side or narrow and slick, “Breck” has a seemingly limitless amount of riding right from your front door.

As proof, Breckenridge was recently named a Gold-level Bicycle Friendly Community by the League of American Bicyclists thanks in part to its miles of paved bicycle routes connecting the communities of Breckenridge, Frisco, Dillon and Silverthorne.

In addition to popular events like the Firecracker 50 and the Breckenridge 100 mountain bike races, Breckenridge also hosted the fifth-annual Breck Epic – a grueling six-day mountain bike stage race showcasing world-class trails, with every stage beginning and ending in town.

The USA Pro Cycling Challenge passed through Breckenridge right after Breck Bike week.

Three days after the Breck Epic ended, the 2013 USA Pro Challenge rolled through Breckenridge, featuring the world’s finest professional cycling talent including Peter Sagan, Christopher Froome, Andy Schleck and American stars like Christian Vande Velde, Tom Danielson and Tejay Van Garderen.

Placed perfectly right in between both events was Breck Bike Week, a welcoming, non-competitive, laid-back community event celebrating the bicycle that’s geared specifically towards families and recreational riders of all skill and experience levels.

Breck Bike Week is geared fully towards making kids happy. Photo Credit: Byron Swezy CBST Adventures.

Running from Thursday to Sunday, all four days of Breck Bike Week were packed with fun activities including guided mountain bike and road rides, bike demos, kids rides and races, Strider races, a poker ride, women’s skills clinics, bike maintenance classes, parties, bike mechanic competitions, live music and an event expo with dozens of cycling apparel and gear brands. Breck Bike Week even raffled off valuable prizes like a brand new Cannondale Trigger 29er mountain bike.

This massive mountain bike made by TM Design Works out of Littleton, Colorado, was on display at Breck Bike Week.

During Breck Bike Week, everywhere you looked was dominated by the love for bicycles. The world’s largest mountain bike was in attendance this year as was the Breckenridge Bike Bus, a 12-seater bike bus that’s entirely pedal-powered by its passengers. A daily bicycle trials demonstration kept people in awe as riders from RipStoke showed off their acrobatic skill on the bike, jumping from boulder to boulder across the Blue River.

Left: Robbie Pfunder of RipStoke gets the crowd fired up with his river-hopping trials skills. Right: Not looking like a good hand…unless he three more threes hiding in his jersey pocket. Photo Credit: Byron Swezy CBST Adventures.

For those who like giving back, a Trails Maintenance Day taught volunteers all about proper trail design and building, maintenance and sustainable trail concepts. A fundraiser for the International Mountain Bicycling Association (IMBA) included a bike-in movie night complete with barbeque, live music and a movie, all on the beautifully manicured lawns of Carter Park.

History buffs enjoyed the scenic and informative guided ride with Breckenridge Mayor, John Warner and the Breckenridge Heritage Alliance, touring historic sites all over town via both paved and dirt cycling paths. Card sharks had fun with the Poker Ride that sent people on trails all over Breckenridge, collecting five cards and then meeting back in town to see who had the winning hand.

In Breck, you can park your call all week and ride or walk to everything.

Perhaps the greatest aspect of Breck Bike Week is the fact that once you arrive in Breckenridge, you can park your car and forget about it your entire stay. Everything you need in Breckenridge is within walking or riding distance from town.

Left: It’s hard not to love the endless miles of riding around Breckenridge. Right: There are many reasons to love Breckenridge.

Breck Bike Week just wrapped up its fifth anniversary, and next year it will surely be even bigger and better. Keep your calendar open during the second week of August 2014 and make a long family vacation to Breckenridge where riding bikes and having fun are the utmost priorities.

Get more details and information on 2014 dates at www.breckbikeweek.com.

The ASS shares his favorite and not-so-favorite towns during a month-long trip to colorful Colorado.

The ASS getting a high five during the clunker crit at the inaugural Grand Junction Off-Road. Photo courtesy of Kitsbow.

After nearly a month spent traveling around Colorado, I am back home in Reno with the fragrance of smoke filling my nostrils thanks to the Rim Fire near Yosemite, now the fourth largest fire in California history.

Raging party atop Independence Pass.

Amidst the smell of campfire permeating everything in the house, I think back on all that happened in Colorado over the last month.

Tim Johnson with Uncle Rico donning the disco ball helmet.

I somehow survived nearly 240 miles and 40,000 feet of climbing on a singlespeed in six days during the Breck Epic, got crammed in the cargo hold of a Honda Element with a giant hairy yeti in Leadville, slept in a teepee in Vail, drank beet juice until I wanted to vomit in Breckenridge, drank whiskey until I did vomit in Breckenridge, almost rode directly into an 1,800 pound moose in Breckenridge, got passed by an elderly woman on the bike path in Aspen wearing a t-shirt that said “Sea Level is for Sissies”, participated in a raging, oxygen-depraved roadside party atop Independence Pass at 12,000 feet with my buddy Uncle Rico, ate the best Italian meal I’ve ever had outside of Italy in Grand Junction, participated in my first enduro race in Durango and was on national television with a giant mirror ball on my head running beside guys who get paid to ride bikes and wear colorful lycra.

But most importantly, I got to reconnect with old friends, make new friends and discover new places and towns that I’ve never seen before – all while riding my bike.

Colorado has a remarkable cross-section of terrain, geology and vegetation. There are rides in Colorado where you can start in high alpine aspen groves at more than 10,000 feet and finish in high desert amidst cactus at 5,000 feet. Although there’s still so much more in Colorado I have yet to discover, here’s a short take on the towns I visited and what I thought of them.

Every Wednesday night in Durango during the summer there’s a group ride or race. This one was an enduro.

Leadville

At 10,200 feet elevation, Leadville is the highest altitude incorporated city in America. It has a rough, ready and rustic mountain mining town charm that’s hard to resist, but the weather there is anything but irresistible. Cobalt gray skies seemed to always be present in Leadville – especially in the afternoons – and a 75-degree day is considered record-breaking heat. I can’t imagine how oppressive this place is in January. In the few short months you can actually ride, the Colorado Trail to Twin Lakes is simply magical.

Yeah, it’s great if you’re acclimated to the altitude.

Perhaps the most awe striking observation I made in Leadville was the Leadville Trail Series store. That’s right, the billion-dollar company that owns the Leadville name, Lifetime Fitness, has a year-round store selling Leadville-branded everything from coffee mugs to underwear. A month after seeing it, I’m still confused. I’m afraid the Leadville Dirt Fondo is about to jump the shark, if it hasn’t already. Cool place to visit for a day or two, but not a place I could live.

Leadville is so popular the race has its own apparel and trinket store.

Breckenridge

I spent a majority of my time in Breck, about 10 days, and fell in love with the riding here. Trails everywhere. The town is fully behind cycling, with well-marked trails right from downtown and an awesome bike path that goes from Breck up to Frisco, Silverthorne and Dillon. Breck has a laid-back, unpretentious character that other ski towns like Beaver Creek and Vail lack. It’s very family-friendly town, but at 9,500 feet, the weather is a little less friendly.

Breckenridge has incredible trails and lots of family activities, but it’s just a bit too touristy.

My main gripe on Breck is that it’s uber touristy. Definitely the most touristy town I visited while in Colorado. I know, I know. I was a tourist too. But if I were looking for a place to live in Colorado, I would probably pass on Breck. The nonstop throng of people wasting good money on worthless trinkets and tacky t-shirts would claw at my last nerve.

From the creators of the Whiskey Off-Road comes a new event with a welcoming town, more challenging trails and awe striking scenery.

Rocks. There was no shortage of them at The Grand. Photo Credit: Devon Balet (www.devonbaletphoto.com).

Since it’s inception in 2004, the Whiskey Off-Road has become one of the staple mountain bike events in America. Racers from all over the country – and across the world – flock to Prescott, Arizona the last week of April to participate in a weekend that celebrates community, health, family, friends, free live music, beer and oh yeah, mountain bikes.

Modeled by Epic Rides to be just like the Whiskey Off-Road, this year’s inaugural Grand Junction Off-Road was held in Grand Junction, Colorado on Labor Day weekend. Set on the high desert Western Slope of Colorado, Grand Junction – and its nearby neighbor Fruita – has become one of the most popular places in America to ride mountain bikes. And with Moab a mere hour away, its no surprise that mountain bikers are helping cities like Grand Junction experience an economic resurgence.

The inaugural Grand Junction Off-Road had no shortage of panoramic vistas.

Named for its location at the confluence of the Colorado and Gunnison Rivers, Grand Junction boasts hundreds of miles of singletrack ranging from technical and rocky to smooth and flowing, all set with an otherworldly backdrop of scenery featuring massive red rock cliffs, hoodoos, mountains of slickrock and towering, craggy canyons that could be confused with a photograph from Mars.

Alt-rock icons Cracker jamming out in downtown GJ. Photo Credit: Devon Balet (www.devonbaletphoto.com).

Grand Junction has a much larger downtown area than Prescott, and with city officials fully behind the event, the Grand Junction Off-Road shut down Main Street all weekend long to cars, offering a bike-friendly boulevard hosting a Kid’s Ride, Clunker Crit and a Pro Men’s and Women’s Fat Tire Crit perfect for spectating. Just like the Whiskey, live music was heard all Saturday, with the headliner and alt-rock legends Cracker playing amidst a glorious Grand Junction sunset.

The Clunker Crit on Friday evening was a huge hit. Photo Credit: Devon Balet (www.devonbaletphoto.com).

Also just like the Whiskey, The Grand offered multiple courses for amateur riders including the 15 Grand (1 Grand = 1 Mile), 30 Grand and 40 Grand events.

Never having ridden in Grand Junction before, on Friday I went out and pre-rode the 15 Grand course, as it shared some of the same trails I would be riding in the 40 Grand on Saturday. As soon as I got off pavement and on the legendary Tabeguache Trail, matters got serious. Steep technical ups, rocky ledges that require serious heaving of the bike and miles of winding, technical singletrack were the fare of the day.

Continue reading for more on the Grand Junction Off-Road and full photo gallery.

Some of the most notable legends in the Kamikaze Downhill kicked off the Kamikaze Bike Games Weekend at Mammoth Mountain.

The man with the most neon at the Underground Lounge was…you guessed it…H-Ball.

The Kamikaze is back. After a long hiatus, the event that started in 1985 and went on to shape modern downhill racing as we know it is happening all weekend long at Mammoth Mountain. The resort has pulled out all stops for its much anticipated return to the mountain bike world, offering three full days of action including the Legends of the Kamikaze Downhill, Kamikaze Downhill, Pro GRT/USGP Downhill, Dual Slalom, Enduro, Coldcock Speed & Style (basically dual slalom with bonus points for huge tricks), Cross Country, MTB Dirt Fondo, and even a Road Fondo and Kids Races.

Bill Cockroft, creator of the original Kamikaze and this year’s event director, welcomes the Legends.

Festivities were kicked off on Thursday night with a party hosted by Troy Lee Designs and Sony at the Underground Lounge. The brainchild behind the original Kamikaze Downhill and current Mammoth Kamikaze Bike Games Director, Bill Cockroft, was in attendance, welcoming athletes, competitors and sponsors.

Left: Mike Klozer, Brian Lopes, Greg Herbold and Jeremy Purdy getting stoked for the Kamikaze. Right: Joe Lawwill of Shimano with Rogers and Cully.

Paying homage to the Legends of the Kamikaze and in honor of “Earthquake” Jake Watson and Steve Ready, the Legends party featured a list of notables including Leigh Donovan, Penny Davidson, Brian Lopes, Dave “Cully” Cullinan “HBall” Greg Herbold, “Insane Wayne” Croasdale, Joe Lawwill, Eric Palmquist, Mike Klozer, Jeremy Purdy, Tom Rogers and many more.

Left: Penny Davidson, Mercedes Natvig and Leigh Donovan representing for the ladies. Right: Former Downhill World Champion and Kamikaze Dual Eliminator Champion Dave Cullinan with Tom Rogers.

On Friday afternoon, these downhill icons will once again be putting rubber to dirt, taming the fast and fierce Kamikaze Downhill course that drops nearly 2,000 vertical feet in a mere 3.2 miles and sees speeds in excess of 60 mph. Will they be piloting their old cantilever brake Iron Horses, Yetis, Miyatas, Mongooses and Specializeds? The Angry Singlespeeder will be out on course snapping pics, so keep checking back all weekend for plenty of Kamikaze Games action.

“Insane Wayne” Croasdale pays homage to the late, great “Earthquake” Jake Watson and Steve Ready.

In the meantime, peep some pictures of the Legends of the Kamikaze!

Although some of these shredders are 20 years older and wiser, they can still bomb the Kamikaze at nearly 60 mph.

One of the highlights yesterday at the Mammoth Kamikaze Bike Games was the Legends of the Kamikaze Downhill, featuring some of the most iconic names in downhill racing including Brian Lopes, Dave Cullinan, Greg Herbold, Leigh Donovan, Giovanna Bonazzi, Rob Naughton, Joe Lawwill and more.

The atmosphere at 11,000 feet was nostalgic, with some taking matters much more seriously than others. Take for instance former World Champion Brian Lopes in his full skinsuit and matching windsocks ready to charge the Kamikaze – which he did with authority – winning the Kamikaze run #1 in a 4:55, five seconds faster than Rob Naughton and six seconds faster than third place Joe Lawwill.

Lawwill shared his strategy at the start, perhaps the sketchiest part of the whole course, with an off-camber, loose, pumice-laden left-hander that has claimed many victims.

“You gotta charge from the gate. It sounds crazy, but the faster you can go through that first corner, the smoother it is,” said Lawwill. “It’s actually better to charge through it with no brakes at all.”

Continue reading for more on the Legends of the Kamikaze Downhill and full photo gallery.

The ASS trades in his singlespeed for a six-inch squishy bike and tries an Enduro™ to see if this new format of racing lives up to all the hype.

Segment three sent riders from the very top of Mammoth at 11,000 feet, dropping them all the way down to Canyon Lodge at 8,300 feet.

In case you’ve had your head buried in a hole for the past couple years, Enduro is all the rage, bro. And since the ASS is not one to jump on bandwagons very quickly, I’ve somewhat reluctant to sample this new style of mountain bike racing that’s sweeping the nation like the overhyped 29er craze did five years ago.

Enduro has become so popular that I’m surprised nobody has trademarked it yet. Don’t bother. Rich Dillen from Team Dicky already has his application in, so he’ll get a royalty anytime a manufacturer uses the word Enduro™ in their products.

Mammoth Mountain hosted the first annual Kamikaze Bike Games, establishing its return to being the crown jewel of mountain bike races.

When it comes to finding the ideal venue for a rip-roaring Enduro™ event, it doesn’t get much better than a world-class ski resort like Mammoth Mountain. The folks at Mammoth brought radical back this year, re-introducing the Kamikaze Downhill to all those young buck shredders who weren’t even a gleam in their daddy’s eye when dudes were doing 60 mph on a fire road with cantilever brakes, 65 tooth chainrings and 2-inch suspension forks.

The inaugural Kamikaze Bike Games was held this past weekend, and in addition to featuring the Kamikaze Downhill, the Games also featured a USGP Downhill, Dual Slalom, Cross-Country, MTB Fondo, a Gran Fondo for the roadies, Kids Rides for the little ones, and of course, an Enduro™.

After having signed up for the XC race with my trusty 26-inch hardtail singlespeed Ibis Tranny, I pre-rode the course and was quite underwhelmed. Maybe I was just spoiled from the past month of world-class courses, but a five-mile loop on 70 percent of pumice-laden fire road wasn’t doing it for me.

So I switched my entry to the Enduro™, figuring I might as well see what all the hullabaloo was about. I loaded my 20-pound Ibis hardtail on the chair lift and pre-rode the three Enduro™ courses that included trails like Bullet DH, Follow Me, Skid Marks, Lincoln Express and more. If you know Bullet and Follow Me, or if you’ve ridden off the top of Mammoth’s 11,000 foot peak, you know these trails are a deadly mix of loose, soft pumice and huge rocks. Toss in a sprinkling of rock drops and man-eating brake bump holes, and you’ve got a course that chews up 26-inch hardtails and spits ‘em out in pieces.

After barely surviving all three courses, my poor Tranny suffered a broken spoke in the rear wheel and rear brake pads that were completely disintegrated. If I valued my life, I wouldn’t race the Enduro™ on the Tranny. I needed to find a more suitable tool for the job.

Left: The ASS got hooked up with a demo of the 2014 GT Force Pro. It ruled. Right: Not only does it rip downhill with 150mm travel front and rear, but the GT Force Pro does it in style.

I headed over to the GT tent and met Tom the demo guy. I told him of my dilemma, and because I think he felt sorry for my complete lack of preparation, he set me up on a 2014 GT Force Pro – a sub 30-pound, carbon fiber, six-inch travel, all-mountain, get-rad-as-your-balls-allow wunderbike complete with trendy dropper post and a grip load of style.

The ASS was ready to get his Enduro™ on – except for one thing – I was missing my standard issue Enduro™ Blue baggy shorts. Actually, nothing I had on was blue. Thankfully there was no time penalty for not wearing blue, as it seemed nearly every other rider I saw hiking up to the first segment was wearing something blue.

After seeing the apocalyptic natural destruction that happened in Colorado last week, how can anyone take the argument of human “environmental impact” seriously?

Photo courtesy of XCGuy, an Mtbr Forum User.

A few months back I ranted about the word “epic” and how people throw the term around more carelessly than a dog with a chew toy. But last week’s deluge of water that raged through the Front Range of the Colorado Rocky Mountains was a flood of proportions entirely deserving of the word epic. In fact, it wasn’t just epic, it was biblical – or so I read in the newspapers.

Which got me to thinking; next time I want to describe a ride that’s even more epic than epic, I’m gonna say it was biblical. “Yo bro, that ride was biiiib-lical”.

What started as a few sporadic Facebook posts last Thursday morning about heavy rain turned into a non-stop barrage of photographs and videos from my Boulder and Colorado Springs friends that I couldn’t believe. Nearly 15 inches of rain in a 24-hour period came down in parts of the Front Range, a precipitation equivalent to nearly 13 feet of snow.

Photo courtesy of XCGuy, an Mtbr Forum User.

20-foot tall walls of water raged down narrow canyons, completely eliminating entire roads, stacking cars on top of each other like mud-caked Jenga blocks, entire trees floating downstream as if they were small twigs, portions of homes rolling down the river like stick-framed rafts crashing into other homes that lay on the precipice of a raging, swollen river bank; my eyes were having a hard time comprehending the destruction.

Then I saw the below video from the Denver Post and had to watch it twice, because the first time I was too busy saying “holy shit” on infinite repeat. I’m not even sure if the world biblical adequately described what I was seeing. I think “apocalyptic” might have been more appropriate.

Video: Flooding washes away town of Salina, Four Mile Canyon – Leslie Martin and Matt Smart were awakened by a friend Thursday morning, September 12, with just enough time to put on shoes and start climbing before a wall of water blew through the town washing away many houses.

So how does talking about a flood of apocalyptic proportions relate to mountain biking? Well, one of the first thoughts that popped into my head as I watched entire homes, roads, and canyon walls wiped from the face of the Earth was the topic of environmental impact.

Photo courtesy of XCGuy, an Mtbr Forum User.

For years mountain bikers have been chastised and vilified for destroying the environment, cutting trails through sensitive habitats and areas where we shouldn’t be. Organizations like the Sierra Club, the American Hiking Society and equestrian groups lobby to government bodies like the Bureau of Land Management, the National Park Service and the U.S. Forest Service, stating how our use of trails will lead to irreparable harm to the environment.

The natural bureaucratic response is to either conduct lengthy and taxpayer-wasting “environmental impact” studies on areas for several years before any mountain bikers are allowed on public land that we have a right to, or take the simple route and just shut an entire area off all-together, calling it “wilderness”.

Photo courtesy of XCGuy, an Mtbr Forum User.

This absolute asinine silliness is all really put into perspective when I see an event like what happened in Colorado last week. What was the “environmental impact” of that 500-year flood? Entire canyon walls are gone, deposited in somebody’s garage, thousands of trees uprooted and sent downstream to sit in someone’s living room, and, oh yeah, at least four people are dead and hundreds still unaccounted for.

It’s bad enough when developers can line the pockets of local governments to rape the land however they wish for their own greedy gain, but when you see how much jaw-slackening destruction can happen at the hands of Mother Nature in the matter of hours, it really makes you realize how insignificant our “environmental impact” is as a species. We aren’t ruining the Earth; we’re only ruining ourselves.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Video: Boulder Canyon Mudslide – Leslie Martin and Matt Smart were awakened by a friend Thursday morning, September 12, with just enough time to put on shoes and start climbing before a wall of water blew through the town washing away many houses.

Yesterday I went for a ride in the Sierra foothills above Reno, exploring the Hunter Lake Trail region. Hunter Lake Trail is an old carriage route from the 1800s that climbs from Reno to nearly 9,000 feet before descending down into the outskirts of Truckee. Because of its historic significance, Hunter Lake Trail is protected as a right-of-way for 4x4s, ATVs and dirt bikes. However, everything surrounding it is designated as Mount Rose Wilderness, off limits to everything – except hikers and horses of course.

Although I was disappointed to see shotgun shells, blown up targets, empty beer cans and broken glass all over the side of Hunter Lake Trail, at least there were no restrictions on this public piece of land that every recreationalist should have a right to use.

I’d rather have some litter and no restrictions on a piece of public land than a pristine wilderness only a select few recreationalists can touch – especially when you see the absolute destruction that Mother Nature can carry out in a matter of hours. Those beer cans, shotgun shells, deep ruts from dirtbikes and 4x4s can vanish in a matter of seconds if Mother Nature wants them to. It can also decimate your pristine and sacred wilderness.

My friends were once hauled into court and fined $400 each for “destruction of natural resources” after being caught building a singletrack trail that’s now a fully legal and regularly used trail in their neighborhood. If building a singletrack is “destruction of natural resources”, who do we fine for the destruction that happened last week in Colorado?

Somebody is to blame, right? I mean, there has to be someone to blame; it’s the American Way. Forget all the trails and natural beauty that have been completely wiped from existence – leaving nothing but scarred earth – but what do we do about the lives that were lost, roads that disintegrated and homes that are now nothing more than flotsam?

Photo courtesy of XCGuy, an Mtbr Forum User.

I find it hard to comprehend how some people can witness such apocalyptic natural destruction, then have the gall to turn around and stonewall mountain bikers and other motorized recreationalists for fear of destroying the environment. We’re all here for a very short time, shorter than we realize, so why are we fighting over such useless and futile matters?

I know I’m just preaching to the choir here, but for those of you who read this and disagree – get out of my church. The Earth will have its way with us – whether we like it or not – and quibbling about “environmental impact” is a completely moot point when you see what destruction the Earth can inflict upon itself in a matter of a couple hours.

Why must such an incredible event representing one of mankind’s greatest creations be contained in one of mankind’s worst creations?

Before I start sending certain people into an uproar, let me start by saying this is not a rant to criticize and call out all the hardworking, tireless people who make Interbike happen. I am amazed by Interbike. It fascinates me. The size and scope of it are absolutely awe-inspiring. The fact that an organization can pull off an event of Interbike’s magnitude blows my mind. I have a ton of respect and admiration for everyone who helps put it all together.

Having said that, please consider what I’m about to say just a question. An inquiry. An opportunity for open discussion where good ideas can be shared and solutions can be offered. I care about the bike industry and everyone in it, which is why I ask:

Is Las Vegas really the best Interbike can do?

I know it’s a question that’s been asked ad nauseam, yet it continues to be asked for good reason. I’m not the only one in the bike industry who thinks Las Vegas represents everything that is so horrifically wrong about humanity. I feel filthy, pissed off, annoyed and depressed every time I set foot within city limits.

It’s a non-stop barrage of neon lights, obnoxious advertising, fake body parts, sleazy, dirty sex, half-rate Elvis impersonators and moronic, drunken tourists. The bicycle is one of mankind’s greatest creations, so why must we showcase it in the heart of one of mankind’s worst creations?

The contradiction couldn’t be greater. Having a trade show that promotes efficiency, simplicity, health, outdoor recreation and family in a city that exemplifies waste, excess, sickness, spending your life indoors and the exploitation of women doesn’t compute to me. It would be like holding the North American Auto Show in the country’s biggest wildlife sanctuary.

While I understand why Interbike is in Las Vegas – cheap, affordable flights from all over the country, affordable hotel rooms out the fart pipe and gargantuan exhibit spaces that can accommodate ONE MILLION square feet – there has to be a better answer. There has to. I understand Interbike exists to make a profit. But Interbike also exists to sell cycling products, celebrate the bicycle and the amazing people who make the industry tick. So which is the priority here?

There are other cities in the United States with far more orientation to outdoor recreation just foaming at the mouth to get an opportunity to host one of the largest bicycle trade shows in the world. I’m sure they would bend over backwards. But it seems many of these cities get pooh-poohed because flights aren’t cheap or accessible enough and hotel rooms are too expensive.

So flights are cheap in Vegas and so are hotel rooms. Great. But nobody seems to consider the fact that a cup of coffee runs four bucks, a crappy sandwich ten bucks and a beer worth drinking is priced competitively with your local pro sports stadium. Nevermind the constant barrage of “resort fees”, advertisements, promotions, shady taxi cab drivers and jerks on the strip pushing postcards in your face about some night club sure to rape your wallet and leave you with an unpronounceable disease. And last time I checked, unpronounceable diseases are pretty expensive to cure. So add that to your Vegas bill.

All said and done, that hundred bucks you saved on a flight to Vegas is chump change compared to the money wasted just being in Vegas.

With more than 400 miles of singletrack surrounding town, it’s no wonder Park City is the only Gold Level IMBA Ride Center in the entire world.

My ears were hurting. Not from the 25 degree temperatures and snow falling on the ground in Park City in late September, but from the shuttle bus driver transporting us from Salt Lake City International to Park City for three days of riding.

At first I was really annoyed. All I wanted to do was look out the window in peace and enjoy the scenery, but the driver’s jaw kept bouncing off his skull like a sugar-crazed toddler on a pogo stick. Talking about Mormons. Talking about Brigham Young. Talking about the Mountain Meadows massacre. Talking about the miners who founded Park City. Blah. Blah. Blah. Then he finally said something that piqued my interest.

“Skiing was introduced in Park City so miners would have something to do in the winter other than drinking themselves to death.”

His half-hour monologue began to grow on me. Clearly the guy had done a lot of research on the topic. He basically gave us a rundown on how Park City was founded by abandoned railroad workers, how it survived being the only non-Mormon town in Utah, how it became a massive mining town and silver producer and how it flourished into a world-class skiing destination that hosted the 2002 Olympic Winter Games.

Although his story ended up being quite entertaining, I wondered how much was truth and how much was bullshit. During an amazing dinner at Zoom that night my assumptions were confirmed by Rhonda Sideris, President of Park City Lodging, a fascinating woman who so graciously hosted six of us journalists and photographers all week.

“I’ve lived here since 1976, and I’ve never heard anyone claim skiing was introduced as an alternative to alcoholism.”

Twain always said, “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.” But here is something that’s undeniably true about Park City: you will never in your life ride more world-class singletrack in one day than in Park City. Period.

Boasting 400 miles of glorious, tree-lined singletrack – all within riding distance from Main Street – Park City has earned the illustrious title of being the only Gold Level IMBA Ride Center in the world for good reason.

Although Park City is known for its silver, when it comes to trails, gold is the only metallurgic parallel. Park City earned this accolade not just because of its extensive network of trails, but also because they all act as one cohesive, interconnected unit, with detailed maps, thorough trail signage at every fork, bike paths connecting different trail networks and free bus transportation all summer long. That’s right – Park City has public transportation that will shuttle you for free mid-way up the mountain.

Back to the snow. It’s September 25 and I’m staring at five inches of snow covering my completely frozen feet. We’re about to drop into our first run of the day amidst a squall. No, not a ski run; a mountain bike run. Fatbikes? Yeah right. I’m riding something way more fun than a fatbike – a 2013 Scott Genius 700 Premium – a 150mm travel, 26 lb. do-all wünderbike that’s far too rich for my blood. This bike is more out of my league than most attractive, fit and gainfully employed women, but I got three days to ride the hell out of it, and ride the hell out of it I did.

This wasn’t Enduro™, it was Snoduro, cautiously sliding down a mountain face loaded with rocks that are concealed by the fluffy white Utah pow pow. Before we even got a half-mile into the ride, the living legend and Park City resident Doug Dalton – aka Double D – got a flat tire. We hid from the squall in the trees while Double D fixed his flat, and it was game on once again.

Continue reading for more on Park City and full photo gallery.

To Enduro™ or not to Enduro™, that is the question. The answer? In Ashland you can do both, provided you can find a hotel room.

“We’re all sold out,” said a greasy, bespectacled hotel clerk resembling Milton from Office Space. It was the third consecutive hotel I checked in Ashland, Oregon, and I was starting to get pissed.

“What’s going on this weekend?” I asked the hotel clerk.

“Shakespeare festival.”

“Again? I was here three months ago and you guys were sold out for the same reason. How long does this stupid thing go for?”

“February to October.”

I was floored. Nine months? Who can endure that much Shakespeare? “That’s epic,” I muttered.

Milton looked up at me through his inch-thick bifocals with eyes magnified bigger than golf balls, “Don’t say that. I hate that word.”

Nine months out of the year people from around the world flock to Ashland, Oregon for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. Since 1935, this grand celebration of Shakespeare has become a phenomenon. Great for aspiring thespians, lousy for everybody else who wants to visit Ashland, including mountain bikers looking for a place to stay.

Why would mountain bikers want to visit Ashland anyway? Well, unlike most parts of Oregon, Ashland actually has halfway decent weather. Located just north of the California border on Interstate 5, Ashland benefits from warm, dry summers and just enough rain to bring out an abundance of color. Ashland is also downright beautiful. Boasting a wide range of flora from Manzanita and Douglas Fir to Poison Oak and Blackberry bushes, Ashland offers a radiant environment for riding.

Founded in 1852 after a gold placer strike, the historically rich town of Ashland sits in the shadows of the towering 7,533 foot tall Mount Ashland. Right from downtown a vast network of trails meander into the mountains, providing miles of fast, flowing singletrack that perfectly blend the terrain of wetter, damper, loamier, coastal Oregon soil at higher altitude with drier, dustier and faster California soil at lower altitude.

Although Downieville has seemingly become the de-facto destination for NorCal shuttle junkies, Ashland offers every bit as much terrain and even more vertical. Yet for some reason this panacea of gravity riding is still relatively off the radar screen of most riders.

In addition to boasting endless amounts of hypnotically flowing singletrack with more dynamics than a Shakespearean sonnet, Ashland actually delivers bigger than Downieville, serving up nearly 5,000 vertical feet of rip-roaring downhill – nearly all of it singletrack. Although many claim there’s nothing like shredding Third Divide in Downieville, Time Warp in Ashland gives it a run for its money, with riders clocking more than 40 mph in sections.

Time Warp also serves up rock gardens, log drops and a full heaping of gnar. Time Warp is Ashland’s premier DH trail, and it’s definitely not for the meek, nor for the unfit with big heavy DH bikes due to numerous sections of pedaling and climbing. In short, Time Warp has Enduro™ written all over it.

This exceptional network of trails has attracted Super D, Downhill and the new-fangled Enduro™ racing scene, with Ashland hosting a number of races including the Oregon Enduro™ Series and the Spring Thaw Mountain Bike Festival.

Owned by Bill and Sue Rousell, for the past six years Ashland Mountain Adventures has been running shuttles from town to the top of Mt. Ashland three times per day. Bill and Sue always have smiles on their faces, and for good reason. One rip down trails like Bull Gap, Catwalk, Toothpick and Caterpillar will get even the angriest of singlespeeders showing off their pearly whites.

After finally finding accommodations in nearby Medford, my riding partner for the weekend, The Ümabomber and I made haste exploring the terrain around Ashland. Like most towns set at the foot of a gigantic mountain, the rule of thumb in Ashland is climb a gripload, then bomb back downhill. A great ride from town takes you about seven miles up a fireroad called Loop Road, then puts you on Hitt Road; a warp-speed singletrack-and-a-half filled with water bars that will launch you into outer orbit. If you like high-speed descents, Hitt Road is a must.

If you want an even bigger climb, ride up Tolman Creek Road until it turns to Road 2080, and follow it all the way to Bull Gap at 5,500 feet elevation. After nearly 3,500 feet of steady fireroad climbing, you’ll climb a short section of singletrack on Lower Bull Gap before being rewarded with nearly 10 miles of singletrack downhill.

Catwalk was a personal favorite, featuring a perfect blend of high-speed bermed corners, jumps and buff singletrack that rolled seamlessly like Shakespearian iambic pentameter. The Ümabomber didn’t even have to tell me which was her favorite trail. Upon emerging from the lower section of Lower Bull Gap full throttle with a roost of dirt in her wake, she exclaimed to the world “that was better than sex!” I didn’t disagree.

For the post-sex cigarette, Alice in Wonderland and BTI trail careen you into town with eye-watering speed, double jumps and sharply banked berms, delivering you through beautiful Lithia Park where throngs of Shakespeare groupies take in some Elizabethan culture. If it’s a particularly hot day, find the rope swing at Lithia Park Reservoir and let the radicality continue.

Although the aforementioned trails can easily be ridden on even a rigid bike, there are a lot of brake bumps in the trail that begin taking its toll on your body halfway into the 12-mile descent. For maximum stoke, a five-inch travel double boinger is choice. Even if you come to town empty-handed, Bill and Sue demo bikes from Kona and GT.

If shuttling isn’t your gig and you want to take a day off from climbing, nearby Emigrant Lake offers some terrific flatter terrain, as does Applegate Lake. Meandering the steep hillsides above Applegate Lake, Payette Trail offers some commanding vistas and hypnotically flowing singletrack with absolutely zero crowds and minimal elevation change. In fact, during our entire 22-mile ride, we didn’t see a single human on the trail.

At the conclusion of our weekend, The Ümabomber proclaimed in a theatrically thespian manner, “Thy ASS, I shall say to thee that Ashland is amazeballs. Hath no idea that rideth a mountain bike in Ashland could giveth such joy.”

“Indeed,” I responded. “Twas epic-eth.”

It’s that time of year again. Where mud-caked mayhem and masochism come together in a sport we all lovingly refer to as cyclocross.

Start by Jeff Namba.

There’s a time to suffer, a time to heckle, a time to drink and a time to puke. Cyclocross has got to be the only sport where you can do all four simultaneously.

If you’ve never done a cyclocross race before, you’re really missing out. I mean, where else can you take a glorified road bike and two wheel drift it into a loose, pea graveled corner at 25 mph while banging elbows with a hundred other lycra-clad, crazed lunatics while even crazier crazed lunatics stand on the sidelines in costumes clanging cowbells and blowing gigantic plastic horns in your ear while throwing beer on you?

Suffer by Jon Suzuki.

Where else can you suffer to the verge of puking your guts out yet still have an ear-to-ear grin on your mug? Where else can you accumulate so much sodden earth and goose shit on your person that even a mud wrestler stares at you in awe? Where else can you completely destroy a bicycle with grime and muck in a matter of 45 minutes? Where else can you ride harder and faster than you’ve ever ridden in your life yet still get your ass handed to you by half the field? Where else can you opt for a beer hand-up instead of some lame hydration drink? Where else can you say “that sucked” yet say immediately after “can we do it again next weekend?”

Where else? Nowhere else. This is cyclocross.

If boxing is “The Sweet Science”, then cyclocross is “The Suck Science”. It sucks harder than an Electrolux, but oh how it sucks so good.

Mother Nature loves to participate in cyclocross too, magnifying the level of suckitude by Avogadro’s Number. From 90 degrees, blistering sun and choking dust in Southern California to torrents of rain that submerge an entire football field in Portland to paralyzing half-frozen mud in Kentucky that can rip the tracks off an Abrams tank, cyclocross racing is a smorgasbord of extreme conditions designed to crush components, bodies and egos without discrimination, and those who can suffer through the suck best are those who triumph.

Race by Jude Mayne.

If the weather doesn’t get you, then strategically placed goathead thorns might. Or rogue roofing nails. Or that hidden rock with a perfectly pointed edge that puts a gaping hole in your brand new $150 Dugast tubular. Or the lapped traffic that automatically sends you into a supernatural state of threading the needle; risking life and limb to dive a corner and pass three riders without crashing yourself or anyone else.

If you do hear the sound of mangled bikes and bodies behind you, attack. There’s a Clif Bar, some shammy cream and a cheap, Chinese-made medallion on the line. This is war, and to the victor goes the nearly worthless spoils.

Bunnyhop those barriers, you pussy. Do it. Not only will you look like a badass, but you’ll also make spectators scream louder and drink more. If you can’t win the race, at least win the party. But don’t run out of talent. Smashing your face against a vertical wooden board doesn’t improve your complexion. But on second thought, it might get you a couple free sympathy PBRs, so maybe you want to reconsider.

PBR by Jeff Namba.

Take a beer hand-up or a poo dollar to appease the crowd. They will love you in a hateful way. What is a poo dollar you ask? If you have to ask, then maybe you don’t want to grab that dollar your buddy is waving at you with his buttcrack.

ASS by Jon Suzuki.

  Got an old Halloween costume collecting dust at home? Good. Wear it. Not only will people shower you with praise and stale MGD, but you’ll also have a great excuse as to why you got manhandled by the competition. It’s damn hard to see, let alone breathe when you’re an eight-foot tall banana or Freddy Krueger dressed in a jock strap.

The course is so muddy and miserable that you’ve completely worn through your brakes. So what are you gonna do, quit? I got news for you chief – brakes don’t win cyclocross races. Hold on, sit down, shut up and rip down that hill without brakes.

Fail by Jeff Namba.

But what about the big sweeping left-hander at the bottom? Stick your inside leg out, lean the bike into the corner while keeping your weight on the outside and hang on for dear life, cowboy. Made it to the other side with the rubber facing downward? Congratulations, you just learned to corner without brakes. Good thing you are so muddy that nobody notices the poop stain on your shammy.

Joe by Jeff Namba.

Don’t you dare wipe off that frozen snotscicle hanging from your nose like a mucus-filled stalactite. Late in the race you’ll need to start licking it for extra power. Way better than a GU packet, and far more convenient.

Oh, your bike doesn’t shift any longer, you say? Shifting doesn’t win races either, boss. Gigantic brass balls do. Find a gear that makes both your legs and lungs scream for mercy and pin it with brute force and ignorance. Congratulations again kemosabe, you’re now a singlespeeder, so ditch those worthless shifty bits.

If you happen to be of the male persuasion and you’re done racing for the day, don’t you dare pack up and leave like a dweeb without getting out on the course and cheering on the ladies. Besides, half of them are faster than you anyway, so you better give them due props.

Left: Ladies by Jon Suzuki. Right: Face by Jeff Namba.

During the weekly post-race ritual of cleaning the ungodly amounts of mud, sand and various forms of foul feces from the family truckster, think back on the weekend and revel in the suck. Cyclocross has got to be the most punishing of all cycling disciplines, but The Suck Science has an indescribable draw; a voluntary form of abuse where the reward of surviving far outweighs the inflicted pain of the act itself, the mud that takes a day to dislodge from your eyeballs and the bruises that inexplicably appear all over your body. This is The Suck Science. This is cyclocross.

This Halloween, do what the Tahoe Area Mountain Biking Association does; get into costume and get out on your bike.

It’s 2.5 miles to the finish line, I’m two PBRs and one shot of Evan Williams deep, there’s a convict in an orange jump suit lined up behind me, I’m wearing a disco ball helmet, its dark out and I’m wearing sunglasses. Hit it.

Not even thirty seconds into my half-inebriated and Halloween-costumed charge down the famed Corral Trail in South Lake Tahoe, I came to a few realizations.

1)   I’ve never ridden Corral Trail in my life and its pitch black
2)   My lights weren’t secured tight enough and are now pointing downward
3)   My front tire is at least five psi underinflated
4)   The man in orange is less than a minute behind charging like Rosco P. Coltrane
5)   I am wearing a helmet with two pounds of reflective glass on it

Before I could even say “maybe I should slow down” my carcass was going ASS over teakettle off a three-foot drop that wasn’t negotiated in time. I hit the ground unscathed, but my trusty Tranny wheezed a bit of air from the front tire upon impact. Damn. Now I’m 10 psi underinflated. My only mission for the night was to not crash, but that mission was doomed to failure from the word “ENDURO™”.

Not wanting to get overtaken by the orange-clad inmate whose light I could faintly see zooming towards me through the pine trees above, in a frenzied panic, I straightened my cockeyed handlebars, readjusted my lights and dusted off my new Betabrand DiscoLab duds.

A skeleton with an eye patch, a pirate hat and some colorful Mardi Gras beads hung suspended from nearby tree, staring at me with skeletal indifference. I jumped back on the bike and resumed the failed mission.

Corral opened up from a techy, rocky start to a fully bomber, wide-open downhill with big tabletops, berms and warp speeds. I was making up ground, bypassing the tabletops, keeping the weight off my underinflated front tire and charging where I could in the pedal sections.

Where’s Waldo? I could have sworn I saw two of him on the side of Corral wearing a full-face helmet. I looked back in disbelief just as I hit the very last section of sandy whoops and went whoops myself, crashing headlong into a field of pine needles. At least it was a nice, soft, cushiony fall. Doubly failed mission.

Dusting off my disco duds once again, I jumped out onto the road and saw the orange jumpsuit closing fast. Thoroughly crashed, crooked and crapulous with my number plate half fallen off, I wheezed across the line barely holding off the inmate. It was a hollow victory though. Actually it wasn’t even a victory. The inmate waxed me by 40 seconds. So did two other guys.

Although riding the legendary Corral Trail at night in costume was a first for me, it was just another entertaining evening for the fun-loving folks of Tahoe Area Mountain Biking Association (TAMBA). As one of the earliest mountain bike advocacy groups in the country, TAMBA was originally founded nearly 25 years ago, growing to nearly 1,500 members by 1996. But by 2004, for various reasons, TAMBA had all but vanished.

In 2010 a new crew of enthusiastic mountain bikers met with a local IMBA representative and re-established the organization. The enthusiasm of TAMBA and their work on the Corral Trail has been magnetic, recently being selected as finalist for “flow trails” in the $100,000 Bell Build Grant sponsored in part by IMBA. Their work spans all over the Tahoe and Truckee Meadows region, fostering great working relationships with land managers and National Forest Service personnel.

So you’re new to mountain biking and just bought a full suspension bike? Bad news. That rig is way too much bike for your skill and it won’t make you a better rider.

My very first mountain bike was a fully rigid Giant Rincon that I loved going “muddin’” with. Muddin’ was more about finding the biggest mud holes possible and trying to ride through them more than it was about actually mountain biking. Although my brother and I loved coming home covered head to toe in stinky Pennsylvania muck, my parents were none too pleased.

My first legitimate racing mountain bike was a pearlescent blue 1992 Diamond Back Axis made with True Temper OX II steel and full Shimano XT components, also fully rigid. As a sixteen year-old Pittsburgh kid, I cut my teeth – literally and figuratively – riding and racing that beloved Diamond Back all over the rocky, rooty, muddy and gnarly trails of Western Pennsylvania and West Virginia.

Seven Springs, Moraine State Park, Canaan, Elkins, Babcock and Cooper’s Rock were just a few of the places that practically rattled the molars out of my skull and permanently welded my clenched, cramped and white-knuckled hands to the handlebars. Mountain biking in the early 1990s was as much a test of enduring self-inflicted physical abuse as it was a measure of one’s fitness.

Fed up with constantly feeling like I’d just been incessantly beaten over the head with a Bongo Bat, I begged and pleaded my parents for the hot, bling-bling fork of the day, a Manitou. My dad – who had no concept of or interest in mountain biking whatsoever – couldn’t grasp the concept of $350 for a glorified pogo stick with elastomers attached to a wheel and refused to help fund my first suspension fork purchase. Although I didn’t appreciate it at the time, refusing to help me get that Manitou was one of the best things pops did to build my skill as a mountain biker.

Riding a fully rigid bike forced me to learn how to ride a mountain bike properly. Picking clean lines and not allowing suspension to mask my errors were invaluable in building skill, and quickly. A couple years later I finally got a Manitou 2, which not only allowed me to take clean, safe lines faster, but also opened up doors for new lines that I could never before ride.

I have been asked numerous times by friends who are new to mountain biking what kind of bike they should get or what kind of bike would be right for their kid. My response is always the same – fully rigid. They look at me as if I have a gaping hole in the side of my head. Why in tarnation would they buy a fully rigid bike when there’s a slew of awesome 150mm travel full-suspension trail bikes that soak up bumps and make riding a pleasure?

Because those bikes won’t make you a better rider, they’ll only mask your numerous beginner shortcomings.

Who the hell wants to suffer the beatings that I took as a newcomer to the sport more than 20 years ago? Well, for one, if you’re serious about becoming a good rider who has exceptional technical skill, you’ll learn on a fully rigid bike. Not only will you understand how to read the trail and pick smart, smooth lines, but also as your skill builds and you eventually step up to front suspension or even full suspension, your likelihood of crashing will be significantly lower. The combination of good riding habits, clean lines, cornering skill and suspension will take your riding expertise to new levels.

Besides, fully rigid bikes these days are light years more stable, confident, comfortable and forgiving than the bone-jarring 26-inch rigid bikes of 20 years ago. For the past month I’ve been riding a Vassago VerHauen, a fully rigid, steel 29er singlespeed outfitted with a carbon seatpost, handlebars and Whisky Parts Co. fork along with big, fat tubeless tires. When it comes to mountain bikes, it doesn’t get any more stripped down and visceral than a fully rigid singlespeed. It’s the perfect skill-building tool.

With the front Maxxis 2.35-inch tire aired down to 20 psi, the VerHauen is incredibly smooth and comfortable, even on rocky descents. The combination of a steel frame with carbon components is like mixing chocolate and peanut butter in a bowl; the result is magical. Because of its plush and comfortable ride – especially for a fully rigid bike – the Vassago has quickly become my go-to whip for all but the rockiest of rides. The Vassago rewards me for taking smooth, clean lines and only slightly wraps me on the wrist when I take a dumbass line, whereas the Diamond Back would have sent me headlong into a ditch.

Sure, I can’t bomb downhill quite as fast and carelessly as I would like, but I can still keep up with and occasionally outrun many of my friends on full suspension bikes because the Vassago forces me to ride clean, smart and smooth. The greatest part about riding a fully rigid bike is when you park it and get on a full suspension rig. You feel like a cheetah unchained, but only if you’ve learned to ride a fully rigid bike first.

So whatever you want to call it – All-Mountain, Freeride or the new-fangled Enduro™ moniker – if you’re new to mountain biking and you bought a full-suspension rig, you bought too much bike too soon, boss. It’s like learning to drive a Formula One racecar before learning to drive a go-kart.

But there’s no problem money can’t fix. Just convince your significant other that in order to be a safer, better rider who will crash and injure yourself less, you need to go and pick up a fully rigid mountain bike.

The good news is that fully rigid mountain bikes like the Vassago cost a fraction of that full-sus wünderbike you just drained your bank account with. Besides, a rigid mountain bike is far cheaper than a visit to the ER after running out of talent trying to ride something well beyond your pay grade.

Handmade American quality, exceptional versatility and silky smooth performance; all with an affordable price tag that simply VerHauens the competition.

At only $1,049 for the frameset, the Vassago VerHauen is a standout American-made value.

Singlespeeding is about simplicity. Stripping away all the unnecessary in the name of economy. No shifters. No derailleurs. No thinking. Just riding. And suffering. Lots of it. As simple as singlespeeding can be, there are still hassles to deal with; namely a suspension fork. Setting air pressure, replacing seals and rebuilding dampers can be a big pain in the ass for the most hardcore of Luddites.

The simple solution is to just slap a rigid fork on the bike and go ride. Sure, you might rattle the molars out of your skull, but you’ll rarely – if ever – have to spend any time maintaining it. An occasional spray with the garden hose, some chain lube and maybe some refreshed Stan’s sealant every now and again is all that’s needed. A perfect solution for those short on time and money willing to subject themselves to unreasonable amounts of physical abuse.

At 4.6 lbs for the frame and 21 lbs built as tested, the VerHauen is svelte for a steel 29er.

But with the advent of carbon fiber, lightweight steel and big fat tubeless 29-inch tires, riding a rigid mountain bike isn’t nearly as abusive as it used to be. Take for instance the Vassago VerHauen, a versatile hardtail 29er (equipped as a rigid singlespeed for our testing) built right here in the US and A with 100-percent True Temper OX Platinum tubing and outfitted with a Whisky Parts Co. carbon fork, FSA carbon bits and Stan’s NoTubes wheels.

VerHauen means “to slap” in German, and it’s aptly named, because when it comes to overall value, this bike bitch VerHauens virtually every other bike in its price range thanks to handmade American craftsmanship without the handmade American price tag.

The reborn Vassago brand is about offering handmade American quality without the exorbitant price tag.

After briefly shutting down operations in 2011, Vassago has experienced resurgence thanks to new owner Tom Ament, who is committed to reestablishing the cult following Vassago created when the company started in 2005. Ament’s focus with the new Vassago is to feature a line of affordable, fun and high-performance bikes to fit the everyman’s budget.

Paragon Machine Works sliding dropouts allow for multiple rear hub configurations and 434 to 456mm chainstay lengths.

The VerHauen is the first product of the reborn Vassago brand, offering an American handmade steel frameset with custom build features including stainless steel seat tube inserts to prevent rusty post syndrome, S-bend stays for exceptional mud clearance, a 44mm head tube to fit a tapered rigid or 80-100mm suspension fork and Paragon Machine Works sliding dropouts for multiple rear wheel and thru-axle options; all at a surprisingly affordable price point of $1,049.

And because of its extremely versatile nature, the VerHauen is a perfect bike for those looking to grow into a frameset. Whether singlespeed, 142mm thru-axle or traditional quick release, virtually any 29er wheelset you have can be used on the Paragon sliding dropouts of the VerHauen.

Got an angry singlespeeder in your life? If so, chances are they’ve been naughty this year. But even naughty singlespeeders need to be shown love and affection for their masochistic efforts. It’s hard work being a disgruntled, aggro, anti-establishment cheapskate with tattoos and a bike with no shifters. So reward the angry and naughty singlespeeders in your life with these five unique gifts that will surely make them smile through their gnarled, gritty teeth.

Ahearne Cycles Spaceman Flask and Holder

Singlespeeders abide by the old Mark Twain quip “Whiskey is for drinkin’. Water is for fightin’ over.” When it comes to hydration on the trail, no singlespeed ride is complete without a little bourbon on the tongue. And there’s no better way to transport your finely distilled spirits than in a stainless flask and a custom flask holster that bolts in place of a water bottle cage.

In addition to making beautifully crafted custom bikes, Ahearne Cycles of Portland, Oregon also dabbles in custom accessories like engraved flasks and flask holsters. Available in either six-ounce or big gulp eight-ounce sizes, either flask can be custom engraved with a JPEG or PDF image that you supply.

A standard six-ounce flask and holster starts at $60 and works upward from there. NOTE: For Christmas delivery, custom flasks must be ordered by no later than November 25. NOTE AGAIN: Always drink responsibly. Duh.

MSRP: $60
More Info: www.ahearnecycles.com

BEER Components Eccentric Bottom Bracket

Friends don’t let friends ride chain-tensioned singlespeeds. To eliminate unnecessary dangly bits for improved simplicity and aesthetics, get your beloved singlespeeder an eccentric bottom bracket like the BEER Components EBB; the original EBB for BB30 and PF30 frames.

For the BEER EBB to work you’ll have to follow some directions – definitely not an angry singlespeeder’s strong suit. So to avoid suffering a barrage of vociferous f-bombs, make sure the frame in question has an inner diameter of 42mm (BB30) or 46mm (PF30). BB30 versions can only fit cranks with a 24mm spindle while the PF30 version works with both 24mm and 30mm spindle cranks. Both BEER EBBs fit either 68mm or 73mm wide shells. Confused? Then maybe you should stick to the flask.

MSRP: $160
More Info: beercomponents.com

White Brothers ENO Cranks

For those singlespeeders who long for the days of old, square taper bottom brackets and cranks, then there may be no finer piece of singlespeed jewelry than a pair of White Brothers ENO cranks. Designed specifically for the crushing abuse of singlespeeding, the ENO cranks feature a stout box design that withstands incredible amounts of brute force and ignorance.

A splined one-piece chainring interface looks stunning and is available in sizes ranging between 30t and 48t. Four crank lengths are available (165, 170, 175, 180mm) and can be ordered in polished silver or black anodized.

MSRP: $230 crankset. $52+ chainring
More Info: www.whiteind.com

Endless Anodized Kick Ass Cogs

If your angry singlespeeder lusts over anodized bling, then get him an Anodized Kick Ass Cog from EndlessBikeCo. With more colors than a pack of Skittles, Endless Anodized Cogs color up every singlespeed rig with style. As a patriotic bonus, Kick Ass Cogs are made from scratch in North Carolina.

Made from 7075-T6 alloy measuring a full quarter-inch wide at the splines, Kick Ass Cogs are strong and do not gnarl up freehub bodies. They’re also finely machined for a smooth and quiet drivetrain that improves both cog and chain life. Kick Ass Cogs are available in 11 sizes ranging from 14t to 25t. For even more ano bling, order an Endless spacer kit available in nine different colors.

MSRP: $50 cog. $43 spacer kit
More Info: www.endlessbikes.com

TomiCOG Disc Rotor Fixie Cog

If singlespeed mountain bikers are crazy, then fixed gear mountain bikers are certifiably insane. For that angry singlespeeder who seems to have everything, the only gift left to get them is a TomiCOG; a six-bolt cog that replaces the rear disc brake rotor for a flip-flop rear fixie wheel.

Laser cut from Type 304 stainless steel with ½” pitch, the TomiCOG is designed to run with an eight-speed chain. The TomiCOG is available in 16t, 17t, 18t, 19t and 20t sizes. Before ordering a TomiCOG, realize that without a rim-braking surface, your legs are the source of rear wheel braking, AKA skidding. Also, a TomiCOG does not work with frames that use a chain-tensioning device.

MSRP: $30
More Info: tomicog.blogspot.com

2013 Mtbr Holiday Gift Guides:
For The Tech Geek Rider »
Gifts for that Special Angry Singlespeeder in Your Life »
2013 RoadBikeReview Holiday Gift Guides:
Cyclocross Fanatic »
The Newbie Road Rider »
Type A Crit Racer »

Enduro™, fat bikes, volunteers, haters and innovators – just some of the things the ASS is thankful for this Thanksgiving.

If you are reading this column right now, consider yourself fortunate. Not because you are reading the diatribes of an angry singlespeeder, but because you’re reading, period. You received the love and attention of a family member, teacher or mentor who taught you to read as a child.

Secondly, you have a computer or a mobile device. And you have an internet connection. And you’re most likely in the warmth of a home, office or other sheltered location with heat and light. And you’re probably not starving to death. And you probably own a cool bike, or even several cool bikes. And you’re most likely planning to ride said cool bike this Thanksgiving weekend to burn off all those delicious calories that many people in third world countries would kill for. All in all, life is pretty damn good.

Thanksgiving is not only a time to reconnect with family and dear friends, but it’s also a time to think about the good stuff in your life and be thankful for all of it. There are many things in my life that I am thankful for this Thanksgiving, and I’d like to share a few of them with you.

I am thankful for haters.

Without haters, the ASS column would be so mundane. Nothing pleases me more than when I receive inflammatory comments or emails filled with empty threats and fulminant emotions. I especially love it when Francis or Gregg receive emails from my haters stipulating that I should be banned from writing on Mtbr because they disagree so adamantly with an opinion column.

Haters are my most outspoken readers. They don’t hold back or sugar coat anything, and I respect that – even if their opinions and emotions are completely ridiculous. Sometimes a particularly sharp hater will call me out and make me realize that I was wrong. I’m opinionated, not stubborn. Okay, maybe a little, but I always keep an open mind.

Photo by http://teamdicky.blogspot.com

I am thankful for trendy fads.

Without buzz words words like Enduro™, Gravel Grinder, Fat Bike and 650B, what would disgruntled scribes like me have to make fun of? As much as I hate following the bandwagon, much fun can be found in it. Next year I plan to make my Enduro™ racing debut on an Enduro Blue® bike, shoes, shorts, jersey, helmet, gloves and special edition Aaron Bradford fanny pack – in blue of course.

So for all you industry peeps reading this, if you got an Enduro™-specific product and it comes in blue, drop me a line. In addition to making fun of it because it’s Enduro™-specific, in the words of Macklemore, “I’ll rock that muthaf*cka”.

I am thankful for innovators.

As much of a Luddite as I am, I still ride a 19-pound carbon fiber singlespeed with 100mm of suspension travel that can break down into a tiny suitcase and travel with me anywhere around the world. Without dreamers, visionaries, innovators and engineers, inventions like the suitcase Tranny would never be possible.

Although mountain biking has always been fun, mountain biking these days is SO much more fun thanks to those hard-working folks in the cycling industry who innovate their asses off. It makes the sport more enjoyable for all riders – especially those new to the sport – increasing the adoption of mountain biking as a fun, healthy pastime.

I am thankful for volunteers.

Whether you volunteer at a local race series, belong to a trails advocacy club and put in hours of sweat and labor or simply show your support through donating money, I got mad respect for you. Even if it’s not mountain biking related, volunteerism proves there is hope for the human race. Anyone who puts service before self is someone I look up to. Thank you.

It’s so easy to take, but it’s not as easy to give back. We’ve all been guilty of it at one time or another, myself included. One of the core reasons why I love mountain biking so much is because of the people; the culture. I’ve never experienced more selfless, devoted, happy and sincere people than in mountain biking. The spirit is contagious. When you see others giving back, you naturally want to as well. So if you haven’t volunteered in a while, make it a priority this upcoming holiday. You’ll feel amazing.

I am thankful for fans and friends.

Although it seems haters are the most vocal of my readership, I am constantly amazed at how many people know who the ASS is and have kind things to say when they meet me. I don’t know if they’re just blowing smoke up my backside, but regardless, I’ll gladly take it. Since writing the first installment in February of this year, the ASS column has far exceeded all of my expectations. I owe all of it to you readers…whether you like my musings or not. So thank you.

Click here to view the embedded video.

On Thursday morning I’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving the best way I know how; by riding in the 20th annual Los Gatos Turkey Day ride with more than 500 other mountain bikers to the top of a 3,000 foot peak, surrounded by endless amounts of food, libations and good people. Regardless of whether you’re a fan or a hater of the ASS, I wish everyone the most enjoyable Thanksgiving filled with joy, laughter and great rides.