I bought a new bike Saturday, first new bike in over two years. It has fat tires. Over 4 1/2 inches wide, they are twice the width of standard mountain bike tires, probably four times the width of my 700 x 23c road bike tires.
This morning I took my new bike to the desert for the first time. I was born again as a ten year old kid. While not particularly fast, the fat tires could roll over or through just about anything: washes with sand and gravel, desert pavement with its ball bearing like surface of eroded granite, stones, larger stones, probably even fallen Saguaros.
Sunday morning in the desert is my ride slow ride. Ride slow, ride early, feel the first rays of light glow on the balanced bolder, smell the fragrance of the dew on the turpentine bush, listen to the first Curve Billed Thrasher herald the sunrise. Red tailed hawk sits high in a Blue Palo Verde – no, there’s another and another. They take flight. I’m alone, and I’m not alone.
About the bike – it wants to ride slow. It wants to ride easy. The frame triangle is aluminum, front forks carbon fibre. No shocks. No front derailleur, rear cog has a wide range. I didn’t count the gears. Going downhill on dry pavement, I quickly spun out. Grinding up steep climbs, the gears were adequate. The tires are tubeless, saving about eight pounds of inner tubes and slime. The weight of the bike is similar to my hard tail two niner.
And it’s not about the bike. For fifteen years, since we first bought our house here, I’ve been riding desert trails, desparately trying to avoid the sand, gravel and washes that lead to hell. Today I rode a bike that was made to ride those washes. It was fun!
