Evolution of a Race Bike

My “Race” Steed.

Steed can be defined as a warhorse, especially a spirited one, or a working animal used as a mount.  This might describe the bike that I have been racing on this year, which is the same bike that I have been using for 98% of my rides for the last 3 years, which is also the first mountain bike I ever built.  It is a spirited and lively vehicle upon which I wage trail wars on a continual basis.  I have an extreme emotional attachment to this bike.  I call it my “race” bike, because it happens to be the bike I race on, out of necessity, and not because it was truly made for racing.  It is more of a pack-animal than a race horse.  A sturdy, sure-footed mule.  A mountain goat.  Not a thoroughbred.  Maybe this is a blessing.  Thoroughbreds are quirky, temperamental, and tend to be replaced frequently.

The bike is my Niner S.I.R. 9.  It’s made of steel.  It’s quite heavy compared to my competition.  It is flexy, flowy, compliant (in all directions), and comfortable.  Its ride characteristics are lovely.  The geometry is spot on.  Not too relaxed yet not too steep.  It has become an extension of my body; the one bike in my constantly rotating stable that just feels so right.

The SIR9 has gone through countless renditions and variations since its inception.  The one constant, never-changing aspect being the use of a single front chainring matched to a single rear cog.  This will never change, lest I retire all dignity, and forfeit mountain biking for crocheting.  Not that there’s anything wrong with crocheting. I love corny Christmas sweaters.

It started out life as a budget build, hacked together with parts I had lying around and a few new items.  The frame and matching gold Niner carbon fork were bought new, and would serve as the platform.  I used old-school XT cranks, flexy XT brake levers matched to BB7 mechanical brakes, non-tubeless handbuilt (by me, first timer) wheels, and huge riser azonic downhill bars.

Since then almost everything on the bike has been replaced.  On my second set of XTR M960 cranks, upgraded to a Stan’s Crest wheelset, and just recently a stupid lightweight Stan’s Race Gold wheelset, old XTR mechanical levers which are way stiffer, carbon bars, Chris King cogs, and numerous tire selections.  The only things that have remained the same are the frame (obviously), the BB7 mechanical brakes (because I’m too cheap to go hydraulic and they just work so well), and the Ergon GS2 grips (I can’t ride without them).  I rode it full-rigid for the first year and a half, before venturing into the world of suspension.  Since then it has been promiscuous with a White Brothers Magic 80 fork, the carbon fork, and most recently, a carbon Lefty from Cannondale.  All three of these options were great in their own right.  

First set of upgrades.  Modded XTR cranks, Stans Crest tubeless wheels.

The carbon fork by Niner is an incredible rigid fork.  First off, it is scary light!  When you hold it alone you instantly doubt its integrity.  But I have put this fork through almost 3 years of constant abuse and it hasn’t catastrophically exploded yet.  Besides that, its compliance and fore-aft flexing are amazing.  It is another scary aspect looking down at your front wheel and seeing the fork move back and forth with impacts.  But Niner did an amazing job at designing a fork that was meant to do that, and at the same time had little to no flex side-to-side.  Riding a full-rigid, with a fork that works this well, is so much fun, but I learned, against my will, that there is a time and place for suspension. 

 

So the first suspension fork I used was the Magic 80 by White Brothers.  I chose this to be a good single speed fork.  I didn’t want a whole lot of travel, and wanted a fork that wouldn’t bob much with out-of-the-saddle climbing.  The Magic 80 has White Brothers’ IMV (Intelligent Magnetic Valve), which is basically a threshold for when the fork will go into its full travel.  Set at the maximum, you can stand and climb and the fork feels almost rigid.  This is exactly what I was looking for.  I assume it’s a similar idea as Fox’s Terralogic, albeit different ways of going about it.  With a large enough force the valve opens and the fork goes into full travel.  The adjustability of this fork was great.  The IMV has about 30 points of adjustment; it has compression rebound and air pressure adjustments as well.  I believe they are also internally tune-able to 100mm of travel.  I loved this fork for the first 6 months or so, but began to see some drawbacks.  It wasn’t very plush, and small-bump compliance was terrible; I don’t think I was even getting the full 80mm of travel; it is fairly heavy, and flexy.  On the fast, rough, rooty downhills I was introduced to in a couple of races, it was clear that the fork wasn’t keeping up.  But all in all, I bought it for specific reasons, and it lived up to those.  It should be said, I am a huge fan of White Brothers and what they are doing.  They make some incredible suspension forks, and are able to compete (maybe not in sales, but in quality and performance) with the likes of Fox and RockShox, all out of a small workshop in Grand Junction, Colorado. 

White Brothers Magic 80. Barely hacking it in Moab.

Next up, and most recent, was the fork to end all forks, at least for now.  Upon installing Cannondale’s Lefty carbon, reduced to 80mm travel to work with 29-inch wheels, the SIR9 never felt better.  The first actual ride I did on it was the Breck68 race, and I was happy as a clam all day with my setup.  My downhill speed was increased tremendously. All of the gripes about the Magic 80 were gone.  Small bump compliance is incredible.  Stiffness is incredible.  Travel seems more than 80mm, as it’s hard to tell when it bottoms out.  It is smooth, ohh so smooth.  Damn this thing is smooth.  It accomplishes this smoothness and complete lack of stiction with the use of roller bearings instead of seals and bushings like regular forks.  Plus, it is about ½ the weight of most forks on the market.  Plus, plus, and more plus.  My only (and this is just being nit-picky) gripe about the Lefty is that it dives and bobs a lot when climbing.  This is remedied with a great lockout that is easy to turn on, on the fly.  The lockout truly locks the fork rigid, and is great for long climbs.  I may try many other forks in my days to come, but it’s hard to imagine a fork performing better than the Lefty.

So it’s not what you ride, but how you ride.  Run what you brung. These messages have always been close to my financially-constrained heart.  Sure, I have done a lot of upgrades to the Niner, but it is still, at best a mid-level “race” bike.  I have to keep race in quotations because the SIR9 was never meant to be a race bike.  It was designed to be an incredible steel hardtail; an everyman’s bike.  When I go out to races, especially in Colorado, there isn’t another steel frame in sight.  My setup is overshadowed by thousands upon thousands of dollars, carbon fiber, hydraulics, and the newest and greatest inventions in cycling technology.  Does all this fancy new equipment seem to matter much?  Not really.  In a world, especially the mtb race world, where everyone buys next year’s models and components before they hit the bike shop floor, and last year’s model is deemed out-dated (even though it was probably 3 times as good as the equivalent 5 years ago), it is satisfying to realize what I’ve been able to accomplish on the SIR9. That being said, will I be looking for a new lightweight, REAL race frame; one that is stiffer and more efficient, and possibly pounds lighter, for next year?  Yes.  At higher levels of competition a couple of pounds and higher efficiency can make a huge difference.  But the SIR9 will always stay a part of my stable, trusty old steed.