The ingredients of an epic bikepacking trip combine like a great recipe. You need the right mix of trails, companions, gear, clothing and a proper attitude. I recently snuck away on a trip with just the perfect combo that resulted in a scrumptious getaway. After receiving an email from my friend Michael Dammer inviting me to join him on the Colorado Trail, I replied with a definitive yes. Then starting scrambling to figure out how to make it happen.

The Trail: I was familiar with the CT route and knew it was challenging but had never done any detailed research. My friends were planning to ride the entire length from Denver to Durango over two weeks. I joined them for a week and peeled off at Buena Vista. The total mileage for the route was 590 miles and primarily consists of singletrack with some dirt road detours around an occasional Wilderness area. The trails are high, steep and technical. Just how they should be. The biggest challenge for me was the altitude and length of climbs. The reward was the long endless single track downhills. We were also treated with remote camp spots and expansive mountain views surrounded by 14,000-foot peaks.

My Companions: Zack Shriver, Cass Gilbert, and Michael Dammer are all strong riders and experienced bikepackers. Our group had similar expectations going into the trip. Ride all day and take plenty of breaks along the way to rest, refuel and absorb the amazing views. Stops for ice cold dips in lakes and streams to wash off the sweat and grim were frequent and refreshing. We shared shelters, stoves, and cookware to reduce equipment and I was thankful that Zach carried our Black Diamond shelter. I felt a little guilty until I repeatedly watched him ride away from me on the long endless climbs. I lagged the group most days on the climbs but was able to hang on the descents. It was quite exhilarating riding the long downhills in a pack as we were all very compatible descending. Our first stop when arriving at resupply towns was always to locate a brewery to recharge our bodies and gadgets. The conversations were engaging and usually revolved around gear, food, bikes or past trips.

Gear: My trail weapon of choice was the newly updated Krampus with a Manitou Machete front fork. The wheels require a little extra effort to wind up, but once they are rolling the go over shit like a bus. The 29x3” Dirt Wizards were designed for this trail. They grabbed roots and rocks on the climbs and hooked up in the loose corners and lumpy descents. For gear receptacles, I went with a Surly Revelate frame bag, Revelate Viscacha seat bag and two feed bags on the stem. I also carried a small Salomon backpack for food resupply. This combination worked well to carry all the essentials. I utilized two Loop Style Junk straps to secure my sleeping bag and small clothing bag to the Moloko bars. I brought MSR Aquatabs for water treatment and carried one liter Nalgene bottle and one 26 oz. water bottle. Cass, Michael and went in on breakfast and dinners using shared pots and Trangia alcohol stoves. We were on our own for lunches and snacks during the day. Michael brought multiple bags of tasty dehydrated fruits and veggies from his organic farm in Ecuador. Breakfast usually started with coffee or tea and was followed by hot porridge made with oats, polenta, dried fruit, coconut butter and honey. Veggies and noodle soup was often our first course before dinner. Then followed up by a rice dish with veggies, tuna, and hot pepper flakes.

Clothing: The temperature range was wide and ranged from 30’s to 90’s so I packed multiple layers. My pack included one pair of thick tall wool and a pair of lightweight wool socks, two pair of Ibex wool boxers, Ibex wool long underwear bottoms, over shorts, knickers, short sleeve lightweight Surly jersey, Ibex short sleeve base layer, Surly long sleeve raglan, Patagonia Nano air jacket, rain jacket, two pair of gloves and hiking boots. I wore all the clothes at least once time during the ride.

There were many highlights on this trip that are challenging to put into words because they never fully express the experience in the moment. The one thing I enjoyed the most was the escape from the day to day grind. A week out in the mountains away from society and technology was the most rewarding aspect of the trip. Sometimes when an opportunity arises, you need to commit first and figure out the details later. This trip was one of those I will never regret.

If you’ve been anxiously awaiting the return of the red Krampus, I have some good news and some good news. The first good news is that we just got a fresh stock of Krampus complete bikes and framesets across all sizes and they are in fact red — just not quite the same red as Andy’s Apple.

The other good news is that, while it’s not the color you (or even we) were expecting, it’s a totally badass color all its own. At first glance, you may think that we just borrowed a few cans of Calimocho Red from the Wednesday, but that’s not the case — the two colors are a little different. You see, dear reader, when ordering this batch of Krampi, we had what you might call a slip of the fingie and entered a wrong number or two in the paint code. Since it’s a pretty rad color and we like the way it looks, we’re just gonna roll with it.

So, behold: Pickled Beet Red Krampus:

These are in stock and available now as both a complete bike or a frameset. You can nab one from your local bike shop. The complete bikes are still the same great spec as Andy’s Apple Red.

Oh, and for the sake of science.. here are all three bikes (Both Krampus’ and Wednesday) up close and personal so you can see the differences.

The Pugsley sure got a lot of looks when it first came out, and rightfully so. Prior to 2004, fat tire bikes were custom-made frames for a fringe group that was experimenting with pushing the limits of winter and other extreme terrain riding. They used to catch a lot of attention, and still do. In fact, a couple weeks ago, a rather dentally challenged but curious woman at the corner store asked me if I “feel any bumps with them tires.” We don’t get those questions quite as often anymore thanks to the development and more mainstream adoption of the fat bike. Nowadays, you’ll find hubs, tires and carbon frames specifically tailored to fat tire racing and new standards to match. Sometimes I wish it could go back to the “simplicity” of that original offset frame and fork that allowed you to use normal mountain bike components and have a bailout option if the going got really rough. I’m happy and honored to let you know that the Pugsley is back in a forward-facing nod to the original production fat bike.

The original Pugsley was released nearly 14 years ago. Let’s just pause and think about that for a minute. In an industry that seems to release a new hub standard every year, 14 years is a long time. I’ve been riding a single speed white Pugsley for a long time and love it, but there was room to improve and change fit and handling geometry. As we reimagined what the Pugsley could be, we wanted to move it more into the off-road touring realm since the Ice Cream Truck and Wednesday already occupy more of the trail realm. We wanted to make a platform that could be used as the ultimate off-road escape vehicle. To that end, the first thing we did was redesign the dropouts (more on that later). The Pugsley kept the 17.5mm rear end offset and we decided to go back to the offset fork as stock. This allows the rider to use a 135mm spaced, offset wheel on the front with a single speed cog, to be swapped in the case of catastrophic drivetrain issues or frozen hub bodies. Finally, we made some geometry updates that help with carrying larger loads and maintain a similar fit geometry with a slightly larger tire.

Newly Redesigned Dropout:

The main problem with an offset rear end when talking about touring is the difficulty in setting up racks. This was one key issue that we addressed with the new Pugsley dropout. The dropouts have rack and fender mounts that are biased back to the center of the frame which allows centered rack mounting and a balanced load. You use the inside mount of the DS dropout and the outside of the NDS dropout.

The new dropout resembles the Troll dropout and keeps the dedicated Rohloff OEM 2 axle plate compatibility and fender and rack mount options that are common on our off-road touring models. The dropout will handle a 10mm x 135mm hub by using our adapter washers, or a 12mm x 142mm thru axle hub. The rear spacing is not “Gnot Boost” and will only accommodate 135 and 142mm spaced hubs. The rear brake is limited to a 160mm rotor and requires the use of our custom Surly IS adapter to get proper brake set up throughout the range of the dropout.

Tire Clearance

The rear triangle was completely redesigned for larger tire clearance, in doing so we also made the bends a little more subtle. The frame was designed around our new 26 x 4.3” Edna and has clearance for them with racks and fenders. The new bike comes stock with a Race Face crank with the ring flipped and a 1x11 drivetrain. This allowed us to keep a 100mm bottom bracket shell and still fit a larger tire. There is still clearance for a double crank, but you may need to size down on tires to make sure there isn’t any chain rub in your lowest gears.

We also designed the frame to clear a 4.8” tire on an 80mm rim. Depending on the tire and rim combo, this will require using larger q-factor cranks (like those found on a Moonlander or ICT) and will require you to pull your wheel back halfway in the dropout (12.5mm). In order to run 4.8” tires on the front, a centered Moonlander fork is needed. This extra tire clearance allows you to experiment and set up your ideal off-road touring bike.


Suspension Fork Compatibility

Sorry, but no. The Pugsley is designed around a non-suspension corrected fork. Plus, you would lose the wheel swapability that the stock fork provides.


Other spec details

In similar fashion to the rest of our off-road touring line, the Pugsley will come with our multi-position Moloko bars. A Race Face Aeffect crank, 80mm Other Brother Darryl’s, a 1x11 SLX rear derailleur, 4.3” Surly Edna’s, and BB7’s round out the drivetrain and cockpit.


Tubeless Ready?

Yes! But with a little bit of work. Both the OBD rims and Ednas are tubeless ready but you will need to set the rims up to be tubeless. Lucky for you, our tubeless kit is perfect to use for this setup.


Other Standard Mounts

The frame features Three-Pack mounts on the top and underside of the top tube. The SM-XL includes another standard bottle mount on the seat tube. Full-length housing guides allow you to keep your cables clean wherever you end up exploring and no matter what way you set up your bike. The fork includes upper barrel bosses and a Three-Pack mount on each fork leg.


Geometry Changes

We made some tweaks to the geometry to make the bike better suited for carrying a load but in practice, the ride remains lively and fun unloaded as well. The chainstays were lengthened 12mm for better heel clearance when using panniers and winter boots and to provide additional stability when loaded. The BB drop was increased to counteract the larger outer diameter Edna tires; however, the BB height remains nearly the same as the old Pug. If you decide to run Nates or other 4” tires you will only pay a 10mm penalty in BB height and will still have plenty of ground clearance. The stack was increased to better match our other updated off-road touring models and to promote a better riding position for long days in the saddle. Headtube angles were slackened out 1 degree to 69.5. We eliminated the jump tube brace and shortened the seat tubes to maintain appropriate standover with the increased tire OD.

So, in this day of fat-specific hubs, race bikes, and global warming, is the Pugsley for you? Only you can answer that question. Similar to wool blankets, percolators, leather boots and wood handles on your camp axe, the Pugsley is classic, durable, and will stand the test of time. If you want the fastest bike with the newest technology, that’s cool but you probably aren’t a Pugsley person. If you want to get as far off the beaten path as possible and need a bike that will handle any terrain or situation that you can put underneath its wheels, then look no further than the Pugsley. Sometimes you just can’t do better than a cup of coffee from your percolator, over a fire split with your wood-handled axe, wrapped up in your wool blanket. Sometimes you just can’t do better than an offset rear end, huge tire clearance, steel tubes, and a tried and true classic.

*Our own Pintz Guzzled and Sweet Beef will be tackling the Arrowhead 135 aboard Pugsley’s this week. If you see them out there, much like a bear in the woods, don’t engage!

There is this point in every bicycle trip and adventure abroad, no matter the length, when I have this small life affirming epiphany; wherein I realize that being happy is easy, as long as I am doing something I love, outside, with people whom define utter excellence in human spirit.

Photos by Spencer J Harding

There is this point in every bicycle trip and adventure abroad, no matter the length, when I have this small life-affirming epiphany; wherein I realize that being happy is easy, as long as I am doing something I love, outside, with people who define utter excellence in the human spirit. What a simple and beautiful thing… but somehow this contentment is so easy to forget when one returns to the shackles of our modern affliction. I suppose we just have to escape more often?

This I knew to be the real purpose and starting point when I called up my good friend Chris Kelly at Topanga Creek Outpost to propose a visit. It was immediately apparent we both felt it was nigh past due that we saddled up some steel steeds, rallied some kindred spirits and took to the trail to reconnect and find some reasons to keep on breathing. I also wanted to put the screws to our new Pack Rat; to actually take it out of its element and see how they performed overloaded and off-road. It was both a learning experience as far as getting to know the bike and its limitations but also a great way to coax out its strengths. I was so excited when Chris, having taunted many of us with prior “Unpredict your Journey” trips to Catalina Island, proposed this be our destination for our Surly/TCO journey. And thus, a fellowship was formed, dubbed “The Unpredictables” after our carefree vision, we set off to the exotic Channel Islands in search of high adventure and romantic landscape.

The first day was spent hastily packing our bikes at the port prior to our ferry departure at 2:50 pm. This was followed by a litany of bureaucratic paperwork and passes to secure at the conservation office before we headed out into the island wilds. We ended up with only a couple hours of daylight to work with once we finally set off from Two Harbors. There was chatty pedaling for the first few miles as we caught up on ins and outs of each other’s lives and by the time we rounded a corner to our first series of serious climbs, the sun had set. Now, I admittedly hadn’t done my homework about the Island itself before I set out on this trip, and thus had no knowledge of the thousands of TINY FOXES that live on Santa Catalina Island! Yes, tiny foxes, so imagine a “miniature gray fox” for scale if you will. I just thought “WTF?... There sure are a lot of cute baby foxes out playing on the road, um that’s kinda ridiculously cute.” Then I learned that this species of fox was specific to the island and does not fear humans due to general lack of predation and protection under The Conservancy. Needless to say, I was in heaven and had to exert some serious self-control in not kidnapping a couple to bring home to live with me.

The first night was spent camping on the beach at Parsons Landing on the North end of the Island. Only coal fires for cooking were allowed so we spent most of our evening eating and gazing at the sky vs huddled around a fire. We lucked out in that the normal prevailing winds were almost non-existent so we barely needed the rocky windbreaks built by previous campers. The temperature, however, did test the edge of my comfort zone in my ten-year-old Marmot 40 degree bag and Black Diamond bivy that I apparently didn’t pack the hood pole for. That night satellites cruised by, stars flickered mysteriously and seals barked their laments; it was a great night by the ocean underneath the velvet curtain of the cosmos.

The next morning greeted us with more fair weather and only a gentle breeze. We had ingeniously crafted, single severing pour overs of coffee that our friend Eric had brought back from Taiwan. They are like a cross between origami and Americano, just brilliant for camping. We snacked on nuts oatmeal and beat-up bananas before repacking and heading off back up the crazy descents we had screeched and skidded down the previous night. We discussed that one great thing about front-loading was that the giant Porteur House bag sitting at waist level was quite easy to pack and perhaps overstuff. We also noticed that the necessity of flared drop bars was imperative for use with our palatial bags and STI shifters. The pre-production spec demos I had brought were an exercise in good humor and patience as we came to learn over the course of those 3 days.

Our ride back into town was relatively relaxed other than my realization that I had lost my id in a desperate attempt to get a photo of two foxes battling in the moonlight the night before. I knew that it had to be on the trail somewhere and counted on finding it on the way back. After all, we had only seen one other camper at Parsons and zero cars on the road both days. We took our time pedaling back towards Two Harbors; catching up on adventures past and discussing adventures yet to come… and most pressing, our imminent adventure involving hot breakfast burritos and more coffee. Just before we reached the safety of the harbor, I saw a hiker in the distance and felt that I needed to talk to him for some reason. I asked the man from which way he had come and when he responded that he had indeed come from whence we had just come, I asked whether he had perhaps noticed a Minnesota ID hanging out in the road. Indeed, he had! But he had stuck it in the barbed wire facing the way we had traveled the night I lost said ID and thus had not noticed it on the way back into town this morning. We reached town and ordered those burritos and I dashed back out on the road minus my gear to retrieve my identification. I reveled in how great the Pack Rat felt unladed as I drifted lose dirt corners and shot up and down the hills (I was dead fixated on the food that awaited me). We had joked about the slick tires being totally inadequate for loaded touring on the fire roads that crisscross Catalina, but on my 15 mile round trip I scarcely missed the traction I desired the day before. Note: Weight necessitates more traction on loose roads.

I returned triumphant and installed that vegetarian burrito like a mamba swallowing a large rodent. To my relief I had not taken too long on my side quest as I saw my compatriots were busy shifting gear around, drinking more coffee and fixing a very curious flat. The rim tape on Aimee’s bike had shifted or folded, exposing a couple nipple holes. The tape was not salvageable but luckily there always seems to be duct tape within reach. A little surgery and we were ready to roll. The ride out of town started with a lung buster of a climb before a lightning descent again towards Little Harbor…. Which was followed by another lung buster and then some super amazing views of the western cliffs and harbor on our way to our campsite on the second highest point on the island.

As the sun started sag below the ridgeline and the cold crept into the lowlands, we found our way into Cape Canyon where a portion of the Island Conservancy is housed and a horse ranch where we saw a lady was working with her steed in the fading light. Further on, we encountered a bison who defiantly stared us down as he dropped a load as if to remind us who is boss out here. We also happened to have come upon a small outdoor enclosure for rescued raptors; one of whom came from the MN raptor center in Bloomington not far from our office. Strange to think this bird and I had shared time in the Minnesota River valley halfway across the country. Birds of a feather perhaps?!

Our last climb of the day was pure punishment. From shivering and wearing our sleeping socks on our hands to gasping for air in our spinniest of gears, sweating bullets. The climb out of the canyon to the entrance to Black Jack was a humbling one. Once again, we were want for tires with a little more bite and a bigger range of gears in the back. Easy changes to make to your Pack Rat should you chose to venture off road. The night sky at the top was majestic and we were eager to claim our reward of hot food, cold Modelos, and our warm layers as the temps dropped into the mid 40’s. Once again, no fires allowed.

I feel like it’s worth mentioning because at this point I’ve probably spent enough time sleeping under the stars to know better, but man at this point I think I need to draw a line in the sand. I am through with commercial backpacker’s meals. If anyone knows a brand that doesn’t cause diarrhea and/or horrendous gas the next day, please drop me a line. I’d love to start making my own but the time commitment seems prohibitive. Anyway, don’t need to TMI you with the details but I’ve learned my lesson yet again.

Sleep was fitful as my pole-less bivy threatened to suffocate me from time to time and made oh so much noise every time I changed sleeping position. Also, judging by the abundance of bison patties strewn about the area I had set up, I couldn’t help but imagine one of those lumbering shaggy ghosts accidentally stepping on me in the middle of the night. I imagined that would be a particularly agonizing death… you know, among all the ways I imagine perishing daily.

The next morning was a (Catalina) breeze of a ride from the campground along the Eastern ridge before dropping down into Avalon. Now I hadn’t crashed once on this trip and was starting to feel pretty sure of myself on this new bike. It was at exactly this moment that I took a corner a little hot and high sided as my front wheel washed out in the powdery dirt. The redeeming factor was that it made for a good photo and I knew we were still going to be able to get a hot meal in before the ferry left. Also, speaking of ferries, as soon as Avalon pulled into view, after our white knuckle decent down switchbacks lined with fragrant eucalyptus, I couldn’t help but imagine Brian Ferry standing on the veranda of some whitewashed Spanish villa welcoming us to his secret paradise.

I didn’t see Brian there but this song didn’t leave my head for days and served as a reminder to me that there is some strange romance happening on Catalina Island. Tiny foxes frolicking in the dusty shrubs. Bison marooned after a failed movie shoot, dreaming of a prairie they’d never seen. An eagle with his glory days behind him, given a second chance at life. And then there were the 5 wayfaring strangers who basked in the glory of it all, leaving nothing behind us but tracks in the dirt.

For the past few years, we’ve put a lot of focus on our off-road products with many of them getting bigger tire clearance, more accessory options, and better component compatibility. Well, we finally had time to dust off our pavement design notebook and inject some of those same ideas into a bike not intended for the off-road apocalypse.

Road Plus - Brought to You by the Midnight Special

For the past few years, we’ve put a lot of focus on our off-road products with many of them getting bigger tire clearance, more accessory options, and better component compatibility. Well, we finally had time to dust off our pavement design notebook and inject some of those same ideas into a bike not intended for the off-road apocalypse.

Today, I introduce to you the Midnight Special: a road bike with, you guessed it, bigger tire clearance, more accessory options, and better component compatibility.

In the past, the Pacer has been our pavement solution; however, as components, riding styles, and rider expectations have evolved, the Pacer has turned into more of a classic design. The Midnight Special is rooted in the Pacer, with similar geometry and frame stiffness, but it goes beyond that design by offering things like 650b+ tire fitment, flat mount disc brakes, and accessory mounts to bedazzle it with any bells and whistles a rider might want.

Standard information like spec and geometry can be found on the Midnight Special page. The purpose of this blog is to fill in some of the gaps, go into a little more detail, and answer some of the questions you may have about this new Surly offspring.

What is road plus?

“Road Plus” is currently the marketing name given to larger volume 650b road tires that have a similar diameter to more traditional 700c skinnies. It’s the same concept found in bikes like the Karate Monkey, which will run 27.5 x 3.0 or 29 x 2.4 tires without effecting the geometry. Same as off-road, the larger volume road tire offers a smoother ride, more control, better traction, and an NFG attitude.



The Road Plus platform thrives where the surface is not perfect. The lower tire pressure absorbs all the road chatter and the larger contact patch allows the tire to easily track down the road and avoid following cracks and ridges. A rider can just relax and ride versus nervously bobbing and weaving down the street to avoid obstacles. If you live where the streets are crap, you know exactly what I’m talking about.



The lower tire pressure also makes it a lot easier to set up tubeless, which is nice.



What is the compromise to Road Plus? Well, the larger volume 650b tire is heavier than what is possible in the narrow 700c world. Not only that, the larger 650b tire works better with a wider rim, and that will also add a little weight. The slight addition to wheel weight won’t matter to many folks, but I feel compelled to inform.

What size tires will the midnight special fit?

The Midnight Special can fit pretty much any road wheel/tire combo you want to attach to it. If you want to lace up some pizza cutters and see what the max pressure of your tire pump is, game on. If you want to enjoy the cush life of Road Plus, this bike can be your ticket. As always, we are giving you options. Max tire clearance for the Midnight Special frame is 650b x 60 (27.5 x 2.35in) or 700c x 42. The current complete bike tire spec is 650b x 47. On the flip side, the smallest tire combinations we recommend are around 650b x 45 or 700c x 28.

What size riders does the Midnight Special fit?

A good size range is always important to us and we did what we could with the Midnight Special to fit as many shapes and sizes of people possible. The effective toptubes range from 500–625mm across eight different frame sizes (40 to 64) and our hope is that this spread will work for riders between about 5’0” and 6’8”.

What kind of brakes does it have?

The fork and frame are designed around the flat mount disc brake standard. Additionally, we made sure there is enough room on the frame and fork to run post mount brakes with adapters if you so please. Those old BB5’s you have sitting in your parts bin will work just fine.

Is this bike for off-road riding?

Sure, as long as the off-road isn’t too gnarly, game on. The geometry of the Midnight Special is road bike, but the frame is built to be dependable and some gravel or smooth off-road is perfect. The steel frame and larger tires do their best to absorb bumps, while the increased tire traction allows riders to point the bars at any obstacle with confidence.

Can I put racks and fenders on it?

Yes, the Midnight Special has enough accessory mounts to make it a blank canvas. The frame will not hold anyone back from customizing their bike exactly how they want it. Pretty much any rack and/or fender will mount up just fine.

The frame has dropouts for 12mm axles, but will 10mm axles to work?

The front and rear dropouts have open ends which allow the use of Surly 10/12 Adapter Washers to run 10mm hubs in the 12mm dropouts. The adapter washers should be used on the inside faces of the rear dropouts to convert the hub spacing from 142 x 12 down to 135 x 10. On the other hand, the washers should be used on the outside faces of the front dropouts to maintain the 100mm spacing but convert the diameter from 12 to 10mm.

Are there any aftermarket fork options?

The stock fork length is 400mm and the offset is 40 or 50mm depending on which end of the size range you are referring to. There aren’t a ton of aftermarket forks on the market right now with that exact geometry, but it is possible to find forks that are close. For example, a Whisky No. 9 CX fork is 395 x 45mm and is compatible with the stock 12mm thru axle wheel and flat mount disc brakes. Additionally, the frame head tube is 44mm which makes it compatible with forks that have straight or tapered steerers.

Some people might get hung up about putting an aftermarket fork on their bike that doesn’t exactly match the stock geometry. The most sensitive riders can feel the smallest changes to geometry, but most folks won’t feel a difference or care. If you are concerned, remember that less fork offset increases mechanical trail, producing a feel of more stability, while more offset decreases mechanical trail and makes the steering feel lighter. Additionally, shorter forks will steepen the frame angles, which result in quicker steering feel. I am not going to tell you what is right or wrong. If you have the freedom, I encourage you to try different setups and figure out what you like best.

Parting thoughts

The Midnight Special is going to be a great bike for many different people doing many different things. I personally have been using it as my commuter for the past couple years. My bike has seen many different wheel/tire setups and thousands of miles on every variety of surface. I am 6’3” x 230lb and the Road Plus platform on the Midnight Special speaks to me. I can rip down an off-road path with confidence or glide down the street in a daze. The bike works for me and I hope it works for ton of other folks as well.

How do I get one of these bad boys?

If you’re itching to check one of these out in the steel, stop by one of the US shops listed below. They will all have the Midnight Special on their showroom floors in the coming days. If your local bike shop doesn’t have one on their floor to take home today, ask nicely and they can order you one. (International inventory and prices will vary by distributor).



US Shops



Arizona:

Landis Cyclery – Phoenix, AZ https://landiscyclery.com/

Blue Dog Bicycles – Tucson, AZ https://bluedogbicycles.com/



California:

Huckleberry Bicycles – San Francisco, CA http://www.huckleberrybicycles.com/

Spokesman Bicycles – Santa Cruz, CA http://spokesmanbicycles.com/

Bike Shop Santa Monica – Santa Monica, CA https://bikeshopsantamonica.com/



Colorado:

Boulder Cycle Sport – Boulder, CO http://www.bouldercyclesport.com/

Yawp! Cyclery – Edgewater, CO http://yawpcyclery.com/

Lee’s Cyclery– Fort Collins, CO https://leescyclery.com/

Pedal – Littleton, CO https://www.pedalonline.com/



District of Columbia (DC):

The Bike Rack – Washington, DC https://thebikerackdc.com/



Florida:

City Bike Tampa – Tampa, FL http://citybiketampa.com/



Idaho:

Bike Touring News – Boise, ID http://biketouringnews.com/



Minnesota:

Tonka Cycle & Ski – Hopkins, MN https://www.tonkacycleandski.com/

Angry Catfish – Minneapolis, MN http://angrycatfishbicycle.com/

Freewheel Bike – Minneapolis, MN https://freewheelbike.com/



New Hampshire:

Tri-City Bicycles – Rochester, NH http://www.tricitybicycles.com/



New Mexico:

Two Wheel Drive – Albuquerque, NM http://www.twowheeldrive.com/



Oregon:

Arriving By Bike – Eugene, OR http://arrivingbybike.com/

Gladys Bikes – Portland, OR http://gladysbikes.com/

Metropolis Cycles – Portland, OR http://metropoliscycles.com/

River City Bicycles – Portland, OR http://rivercitybicycles.com/

Universal Cycles – Portland, OR https://www.universalcycles.com/



Pennsylvania:

Thick Bikes – Pittsburgh, PA https://thickbikes.com/

Trophy Bike Shop – Philadelphia, PA https://trophybikes.com/



Washington:

Ride Bicycles – Seattle, WA https://www.ridebicycles.com/



Wisconsin:

Revolution Cycles – Madison, WI https://www.revolutioncycles.net/

“Rider 142, checking in and I think I’m done.”

I’d just arrived at MelGeorges Resort, the second checkpoint of the Arrowhead 135, and I had no plans of leaving its warm embrace anytime soon. The sun was just about to set, and temps were dropping fast. The glow of the log cabin checkpoint beckoned me and took hold, setting the trap that countless Arrowhead veterans cautioned me about. Checkpoints are dangerous places that tempt you with warm food, hot beverages, and other comforts that make it difficult to leave.

My desire to throw in the towel was met with a resounding chorus of other racers, checkpoint volunteers, and friends telling me to just sit and hang out for a while. There was no rush and no need to make any rash decisions just yet. I took their advice and grabbed another grilled cheese.

The Arrowhead 135 is an ultra-endurance race that takes place at the end of January every year. It starts in International Falls, MN and ends 135 miles away in Tower, MN. With an average of around 110 days below freezing and frequent record-setting temps well below -40 degrees Fahrenheit, International Falls has rightfully earned itself the “Icebox of the Nation” nickname. Racers can choose to compete in three different methods of propulsion - on bike, on skis, or on foot - and have three days to finish. Some intrepid souls set their sights on the elusive a’Trois - an honor only awarded to those who’ve crossed the finish line in all three disciplines.

For me, the Arrowhead has always conjured images of Shackleton-esque polar expeditions and the desolate, frozen solitude of Hoth. It’s also always seemed like this massively unachievable undertaking, at least for me. Before working for Surly, I worked across several of the QBP Mothership’s brands as a video editor. While working on a Salsa film about the Arrowhead, I commented to Salsa’s Marketing Manager Mike Reimer that I could never in a million years do something like that. He gave me a quick look and uttered three simple words that have stuck with me ever since: “Never say never.”

I’ve thought about that exchange every January when updates about the Arrowhead begin to populate my social media feeds. Miker’s words were especially floating around my brain last year when I worked the Surly-sponsored third checkpoint at Arrowhead. Despite Miker’s mantra repeating in my head, I still had my doubts about ever accomplishing it.

This year, I decided to try and prove myself wrong.

When rookie applications opened on October 1, I sent mine in as soon as I could and waited anxiously to see if I’d make the final rider list - something that isn’t guaranteed just by sending in a check and registration form as is the case with most races. Due to the potential for volatile conditions, Race Directors Ken and Jackie Krueger require the completion of certain qualifying events to prove endurance abilities and/or cold weather survival skills. While I have plenty of long gravel races under my belt, I didn’t have any cold weather experience on my race résumé, so I was unsure if I’d make the cut. On a random day in November, however, I noticed that my entry fee check had been cashed.

I was in, and thus began many the mild freak-outs and nervousness that didn’t stop until after the event was over.

Luckily, I wouldn’t be attempting this thing alone as the Head Zeigle Scout himself, Pintz Guzld would be joining me. He’s finished this race a number of times on bike, once on skis, and even attempted it on foot. He insists that every year is his last Arrowhead but keeps signing up anyway. Also joining us would be the desert-dwelling Cass Gilbert from Bikepacking.com. The three of us would be riding the new Pugsley as the bike’s launch would coincide with the event. Pintz and I promptly set off on our training plan of long after-work rides complete with beer stops and one winter overnight.

Along with the nerves and freak-outs, came excitement and an opportunity for one of my favorite pastimes: geeking out about gear. Again, due to the likelihood of sub-zero-freeze-your-fucking-face-off temps, there is a list of required survival gear that all racers must carry with them for the duration of the race. Most of the stuff on the list I already owned, like an insulated sleeping pad, stove, and bivy sack. Other items were things I’d never needed before like a -20-degree sleeping bag and insulated water bottle carriers.

The race approached and the question of “so are you ready?” became more and more frequent. My responses varied at first but, eventually, I reached a mental place of “I don’t really have a choice at this point. I’m as ready as I’m going to be.”

Cass, Paul and I made the trip up to International Falls the day before the race to attend the mandatory gear check and rider meeting and to get our bikes situated. After a dinner of chimichangas from the town’s best (and only) Mexican restaurant, it was time to head back to our hotel - which was only about twenty feet from the Canadian border - to get a good night’s rest.

It was about fourteen below zero when we woke on the morning of the race. After a quick breakfast and final check to make sure our gear was snug on our bikes, we took off on the short ride from the hotel to the start line. It was a little more than a mile ride, but it was just enough to get my legs moving and make sure everything was staying put on my bike. My legs felt like two sacks of meat but other than that I was feeling alright. We arrived at the start with just enough time for a final pee and a quick photo. The dark sky came alive with fireworks signifying the start and we were off.

I was feeling pretty good right away and it didn’t take long for me to find my stride. Before long, I found myself passing other riders and finally settled in with a group of familiar faces including fellow QBP’er Brian Hanson and all-around badasses Jill Martindale and Tracey Petervary. I rode with them for a few miles before finding myself pulling away. Another piece of advice that I’d heard over and over again from Arrowhead veterans was not to go out too hard. Naturally, and without realizing it, my dumb ass did the exact opposite.

I continued going at my own - much too ambitious - pace, until I came upon another familiar face at around the 13-mile mark. I pulled down my balaclava to have a chat with Kurt Barclay, 45NRTH’s Marketing Manager.

“Are you wearing tape on your face, dude?” Kurt asked me; seemed like an odd question.

“No, why?”

“Because your cheeks are completely white. You need to stop and put something on your face right now.”

We stopped, and I put on some face tape, but not before Kurt snapped this photo to show me just how terrible I looked.

Now, I thought I’d taken enough precaution for my face. I’d slathered myself in Dermatone and had a balaclava pulled up to cover everything. I’d even modified it slightly, so I could breathe without fogging my glasses up too much. What I hadn’t taken into account was how cold metal-rimmed glasses would get in -14-degree temps. Sometimes having the fashion sense of a 1980s serial killer comes with a price I guess.

After seeing my face, I immediately had two thoughts. The first was that my wife is going to fucking kill me. The one thing she told me before I left was not to get frostbite. The second was an overwhelming sense of self-doubt. I hadn’t even made it to the first checkpoint, and I’d already damn near froze my face off - what the hell was I doing out here? Did I even belong in this race? That self-doubt festered over the remaining 22 miles to the Gateway General Store, the first checkpoint. When I finally saw the trail fork right and some signs of civilization appear over the crest of a hill, I was unsure if I’d be finishing this race.

Originally my plan for Gateway was to be in and out - refill my bottles, warm up a bit, and have a quick bite of food… ten minutes tops! When I finally swung my leg over my bike to leave, I’d spent well over an hour in the checkpoint’s clutches convincing myself that it was worth it to keep going. Ultimately, it was Miker, who was there taking photos, telling me “This isn’t where you quit. I’ll see you at MelGeorges… in the daylight” that really motivated me to get my shit together and get back on my bike.

The section between Gateway and MelGeorges was relatively uneventful. The terrain started out pretty flat and eventually kicked up into some rollers that had me pushing my bike. I didn’t mind though. The change in position and scenery was welcome. I rode solo for that whole section, which didn’t do much for my mental state, and by the time I began crossing Elephant Lake to get to MelGeorges, I was once again fairly certain that I was done. From everything I’d heard about the section of trail between MelGeorges and the Surly checkpoint was that it was long, super hilly, and seemed never-ending. The rapidly dropping temps didn’t motivate me to want to do this in the dark. To make matters worse, people had warned me about MelGeorges. All the checkpoints are cozy traps but MelGeorges in particular stomps many racer’s Arrowhead aspirations. It’s the checkpoint that sees the most attrition every year.

In the checkpoint, I once again encountered Miker. He told me, “if you quit right now, you’re going to regret it until you come back and finish this thing. If you finish though, you never have to come back if you don’t want to.”

I knew he was right, but it was still hard to convince myself to keep going while watching race veterans that I knew were stronger than me throw in the towel around me. I was still on the fence about what to do when Zeigle’s nephew Patrick offered me a bed in the cabin he’d rented for the night. I could get a decent night’s sleep and finish out the remaining 65 miles in the morning. By this time, Cass and Paul had arrived and were planning on taking Patrick up on his offer so I decided to do the same.

We got to the cabin, and after arranging our wet clothes around the heater and eating a few bites, we all headed off to bed. I slept for about ten hours and the sun was already up by the time I woke. As I was coming out of the bedroom, I heard Paul asking Patrick for a ride to the finish. The nasty flu that he’d battled the whole week leading up to the race had gotten the best of him and he was calling it quits.

Cass and I had some oatmeal and coffee, reloaded our bikes, and set off with Paul’s brother Mike, a certified badass in his own right. Mike has a number of Arrowhead finishes under his belt and has even achieved the a’Trois. This year was his attempt at finishing it unsupported, a category that was added last year. Unsupported racers still have to check in and out at checkpoints, but they aren’t allowed to use any of the services provided. That means no food, no water, no drop bags, and no bathroom facilities. They aren’t even allowed to go inside to warm up. They have to carry everything they need with them and melt snow to refill their water supply. Aside from having more stuff, the only thing that signifies an unsupported racer is a small ribbon hanging from their bib number. If they want to switch from unsupported to supported, all they have to do is pull their ribbon and give it to the checkpoint volunteer. The MelGeorges volunteer had enough ribbons to open a damn craft store.

Mike was among those that switched categories at MelGeorges but not before traveling 70 miles unsupported on a bike with only one usable gear. As we were leaving the hotel the previous morning to head to the start, he realized something was messed up with his derailleur and he couldn’t shift. He made the decision to make do with what he had and ride the Arrowhead on what was essentially a singlespeed.

Like I said… certified badass.

Upon leaving MelGeorges, we were almost immediately met with a hill and Cass and I unfortunately lost Mike as we downshifted and spun our way up it. From there it was relatively flat - until it wasn’t anymore. We finally came upon the hills that everyone had warned me about. While they were significant, and I could see them being a nightmare in the dark, they weren’t all that bad in the daylight.

That forty-mile section between MelGeorges and Surly - the section I’d been warned about and had been dreading for weeks - ended up being my favorite part of the whole course. The undulating terrain kept things interesting, the views were incredible, and for every grueling climb we pushed up, we were immediately rewarded with a screaming fast descent. While the temps were certainly more favorable than the previous day at well above zero, the wind had kicked up considerably and it was snowing for much of the day. The blowing snow was an inconvenience, but it wasn’t too bad. Both Cass and I had high spirits as we got within about five miles of the Surly checkpoint.

As is always the case, that last five miles crept by, seemingly unending. When at long last, the trail made one final curve and I saw a Surly banner at the apex, my icicle covered face managed a smile. I was among friends, a warm teepee, and as much whiskey as I wanted (turns out I didn’t want any as I forgot to take even a single nip before leaving the checkpoint.)

The teepee was a full house with several other racers huddled around the wood stove, swapping tales from the race so far. It was here that we learned temps had dipped to around -30 degrees throughout the previous night, well below the forecasted low of -10. Hearing this made us content in our decision to take advantage of the cabin.

As one fellow racer put it: “I rode through the night and bivyed at -30 below. You slept in a warm bed and left MelGeorges this morning and we still got to the checkpoint at around the same time. Who made the smarter decision?”

Perspective is everything.

From the Surly checkpoint, there was only 25 miles left of the race. It was mostly flat save for one big hill known as Wakemup. I was told I’d know when I reached it because I’d come around a corner, see it, and utter some sort of expletive. After climbing and descending the other side it was flat, but it was also the most exposed part of the course and, seeing as the wind had picked up, it could pose its own problems. Either way, it was only 25 miles - less than my roundtrip commute to work. I tried to keep that in mind as we pedaled away from Surly.

For the couple miles beyond the checkpoint, Cass and I were joined by Surly’s Marketing Manager Dan. We chatted a little as we rode until we came around the infamous corner and I indeed said some expletives. We’d arrived at Wakemup and it was just as intimidating as everyone said it would be. Admitting defeat before I’d even reached the base, I dismounted and started pushing - at times struggling to find traction even on foot. When we finally crested it, the view was unlike anything I’ve ever seen in my entire lifetime living in Minnesota. We could see for miles.

Dan bid us farewell and turned to head back to the checkpoint as Cass and I pointed ourselves downhill. From here on, it was going to be flat and (hopefully) smooth sailing. At the bottom, we pedaled at a casual pace and chatted as we went, the sun setting around us. The snow was still blowing and had gotten deeper as the day had gone on so pedaling became increasingly more difficult, at least for me. I found myself struggling to keep up with Cass and eventually, I watched his taillight fade off into the distance.

I’d officially bonked.

Before long, I could see lights coming up behind me… and fast! Figuring it was a snowmobile, I moved over as far to the right as I could and took the opportunity to have a drink of water and a bite to eat while I waited for it to pass. I was more than a little shocked when I realized it wasn’t a snowmobile at all, but Mike! Despite all the hills and only having one usable gear, he’d caught me. I was understandably impressed. After chatting a bit, we pedaled together for a while until he too began to pull away from me.

Alone again, I kept trudging along as best I could. It was completely dark by now and from time to time, I’d see a glowing pair of eyes eerily watching me from somewhere off trail. Not knowing (and not really wanting to know) what creature those eyes belonged to, I kept pedaling.

When at last I stopped for some more water and food, I leaned my bike against a tree and finally noticed the source of my slogging. My front tire was almost completely flat. The loose snow and bulky load under my handlebars had obscured my front wheel from view and I hadn’t noticed.

I hadn’t bonked at all; I was just pushing a damn snowplow!

I quickly grabbed my pump and filled up my tire. I checked my phone… only about 13 miles left to go. No problem. I started pedaling and immediately started flying down the trail. After pushing a flat tire for the past 8 or so miles, I suddenly felt like I was riding a road bike on fresh pavement.

In no time, I caught up with Mike, rode with him for a bit, and pulled away. I was in the most exposed part of the course now and was feeling every biting swell of wind on my already frost nipped cheeks. The finish was so close; I pedaled harder than I had the entire race. I got back into the woods and saw a sign for Fortune Bay Casino - two miles straight ahead. Holy shit, I was finishing this thing.

I crested the final little hill and saw it: the finish line. I had arrived. Besides the volunteers, the first person I saw at the finish was Miker, camera in hand and congratulations at the ready. After a few photos, I headed inside for the finish line gear check and the nearest buffet.

All told, my total elapsed time from start to finish was 37 hours, 46 minutes, and 16 seconds - a series of numbers that will be burned into my brain forever. It might sound cliché, but I truly didn’t make it to the finish line alone. Between my wife’s constant encouragement from afar and Miker (and other friends) pushing me to the finish nearby, I never really felt like I was alone - even when I most definitely was. I also couldn’t have done this without Cass’s unwavering positivity. Riding with another person undoubtedly makes a route like this easier but riding with someone who always keeps things cheery and positive makes it downright enjoyable. Also, a big thanks to all the Zeigles, all my Surly coworkers, and Kurt (for saving my damn face from freezing off).

All throughout the race and even at the finish, I kept thinking to myself and commenting to others that I don’t think winter ultras are my thing. This was going to be a one and done type of thing. When asked at the finish if I’d be racing again next year, I believe I said: “Hell no.”

And yet… On the drive home the next day, I was already planning what I’ll do differently next year. Now that I’ve had a few weeks to decompress, Arrowhead still conjures the same images of Shackleton-esque polar expeditions and the desolate, frozen solitude of Hoth. The difference now is, it’s now something I finally see as achievable.

As I’ve already mentioned, I got several of bits of advice from race veterans leading up to Arrowhead and so far, every bit had been dead on. Going out too hard was a dumb idea, and the checkpoints were all traps. Nearly everyone I talked to beforehand also told me something along the lines of: “Once you do Arrowhead, you’re always going to want to come back.”

And they’re definitely dead on about that. See you next year.

GEAR LIST

Now for the part of the blog all my fellow gear nerds have been waiting for…

Bike

• Stock Surly Pugsley (swapped out seatpost and saddle)
  
• 45NRTH Helva Pedals
  

Sleeping Gear

Junkstrapped in a 35L Outdoor Research Air Purge Dry Compression Sack underneath my Moloko bars

• Big Agnes Crosho UL -20-degree sleeping bag*
  
• Nemo Tensor Insulated sleeping pad*
  
• Outdoor Research Helium Bivy*
  
• Patagonia Fitz Roy Down Parka
  

Clothing (Worn)

• Podiumwear Arrowhead Jacket (obvious choice)
  
• Podiumwear Arrowhead bibs
  
• Ibex wool long underwear
  
• Craft Storm Tights
  
• 45NRTH Merino Baselayer
  
• Surly Raglan shirt
  
• Surly Tall Socks
  
• Salomon ANKA CS WP boots
  
• Outdoor Research Mt. Baker Mits
  
• Rapha Merino hat
  
• 45NRTH Lung Cookie
  
• Face Tape
  

Clothing (Extra)

Kept in Porcelain Rocket Mr. Fusion XL seat bag (massive capacity and no swaying, this thing was indispensable)

• Outdoor Research Cathode Hooded Jacket
  
• Outdoor Research Cathode Vest
  
• Outdoor Research Helium II Rain Jacket
  
• Outdoor Research Helium II Rain Paints
  
• Surly Raglan
  
• Surly 5” socks
  
• 45NRTH Merino Baselayer
  
• 45NRTH Sturmfist 4
  
• 45NRTH Sturmfist 5
  
• Smartwool Merino glove liners
  

Food/Cookery

Kept wherever I could find space for it

• Meats from Red Table Meat Co. (the best, it was so great having real food out there. A little tricky to keep from freezing but I kept them in the back pockets of my Arrowhead jacket and that seemed to work)
  
• Skratch Labs Apple Cinnamon drink mix
  
• Homemade cookies
  
• Honey Stinger bars
  
• Backpacker’s Pantry Chicken Risotto
  
• Backpacker’s Pantry Oatmeal and Quinoa
  
• Starbuck’s Via Instant coffee
  
• Jar of peanut butter for emergency calories*
  
• Stove*
  
• Esbit tablets*
  
• 1-pint pot*
  
• Titanium Spork
  
• Windproof matches*
  
• Outdoor Research Water Bottle Parka
  
• 40oz. Nalgene*
  
• 32oz. Kleen Kanteen*
  

Miscellaneous

• Whistle*
  
• Reflective vest*
  
• Multi-tool
  
• Pump
  
• Spare tube
  
• Headlamp
  
• Headlight*
  
• Two taillights*
  
• Spare batteries*
  
• Cell phone
  
• Knife
  
• Revelate Designs Mountain Feedbag x2
  
• Sturdy Bags frame bag
  
• Sturdy Bags toptube bag
  
• Lots of hand warmers
  

*Fulfills mandatory gear requirements.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. Here’s some death metal from my buddy Jim’s newest project.

Enjoy. Or don’t.

This week we’re kicking off a semi-regular blog series we’re calling Humanoids of Surly. The purpose of this series is two-fold. First, we want to give you a break from having to just hear us talk all the time. Second, we want to showcase all the people that are doing incredible things on/with/because of our bikes and give them a chance to share their stories with the world.

To kick things off, we have Rachel from our home turf. Rachel’s a certified badass on and off the bike and does just about everything imaginable on her Straggler so she was an obvious choice to get this series started off on the right foot.

Take it away, Rachel!

Name: Rachel Olzer

Location: North Minneapolis, MN

Who do you think you are anyway?

Hey, I’m Rachel and my life revolves around sex. Seriously! I’m a Ph.D. student in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at the University of Minnesota and I study the evolution of sex and sexual signaling in animals. That’s a mouthful, I know. In essence, I sit around and think about how and why animals have sex. I’m also an adjunct professor at UMN this semester teaching a class on the Biology and Evolution of Sex. So when I’m not thinking about animal genitalia, I’m encouraging others to think about it.

As you’ve probably gleaned from the above paragraph, I’m a little weird. I was born and raised in the capital of weird - Las Vegas Nevada. No, I did not live in a casino growing up, but full-disclosure, it wasn’t until I went off to college that I saw a movie theater that wasn’t inside of a casino. But the other side of Vegas that people so often forget about are all those gorgeous mountains that surround it! Nevadan’s like to brag that we’re the most mountainous state in the Union. We have the most mountain ranges and the most mountains over 10,000 feet - take that Colorado! We also have the most public lands as a percentage of the state - Alaska has every state beat if we’re talking square feet. Growing up near mountains really shaped my interests. My first love is rock climbing. Climbing has taken me to so many beautiful places and has introduced me to so many wonderful people. Growing up in the desert southwest also sparked my interest in bikes, especially the off-road kind.

How’d you get into bikes?

For most of my life, I lived near a place called Bootleg Canyon. If you’re familiar with Bootleg, then you know exactly why I was hesitant about mountain biking at first. If you’re not familiar with it, then I’ll just say that some speculate that it’s the hardest downhill mountain biking in the world! It’s quite literally bone-crushing. So maybe hesitant is a gross understatement. But like I said, Vegas is a crazy place and the desert is likely to inspire anyone to do some pretty insane things.

By the time I was heading off to college in Arizona, I was ready for a taste of the extreme. That’s when I started to take mountain biking and rock climbing seriously. Arizona has some of the most amazing rock formations you’ll every encounter and it’s hard not to be motivated by that. I was never really into road biking. I don’t like form fitting clothes so the idea of dressing head-to-toe in spandex sounded like something out of an afro-futuristic sci-fi special on FX. I remember when I started to take road biking seriously though. Two words: Mount Lemmon. This mountain is a local favorite for road bikers. We’re talking nearly 6,000 feet of elevation gain in less than 30 miles. You’re just spinning in your lowest gear for so long. All the while the sun is mercilessly beating down on you. It’s a riot!

I started to really get into mountain biking while in college. My partner built me a Frankenstein mountain bike by putting a 29er wheelset on a Gary Fisher hybrid frame. It was love at first sight (the mountain bike I mean). Black Beauty, as I called her, was the perfect size for me and it didn’t cost a fortune - a real win for someone who’s 5’1” and has been a student for what seems like forever.

Shortly thereafter, I decided to build a touring bike. I made it from an old Trek mountain bike frame. It was the most frustrating project I’ve ever worked on. Nothing worked the first time I put it on the bike. Everything was old and rusty and needed lots of work to repair. It was my first real taste of bike building and I hated it! But by the end I had a bike that I was pretty proud of and I rode the crap out of that thing!

It wasn’t until I moved to Minnesota that I really got into biking. The climbing in the Midwest is less than spectacular; you can blame glaciation for that! But there’s so much to love about the riding here! The thing about biking in the desert is that it’s really harsh! Crashes are painful and dirty, there are cacti everywhere (again, painful crashes), and the infrastructure is still pretty lacking. Moving to Minnesota really helped me see that biking can and should be accessible for people! The infrastructure is incredible, the community is huge, and there are mountain bike trails within the city that are just spectacular! There’s still so much to be done here with regard to accessibility and representation (I mean cycling is still pretty dominated by white men), but I’m so grateful to be in a place that values bikes, and I’m really excited for the future of cycling in Minneapolis.

Tell us about your Surly.

The first time I tried to ride over 50 miles on the road it was horrendous! I rode a bike that was WAY too big - we’re talking 8-10cm too big - and it was awful! I thought I hated biking after that! I figured biking was just painful and your crotch was just supposed to go numb. I was pretty resigned to never really enjoying the ride. It wasn’t until I got my Straggler that I truly fell in love with biking again. I finally had a bike that fit so perfectly!

I ride a 650b Surly Straggler. Her name is Apollonia, after Prince’s love interest in Purple Rain.

She’s pretty and sparkly and purple and most importantly she rides like a champ! What’s great about the bike is that it’s easy to switch from geared to single-speed. As a winter commuter, riding with gears requires a commitment to bike maintenance that I just don’t have. So to be able to switch my bike to single-speed during the cold months is perfect!

In the winter, I’m rocking studs and I’m primarily commuting. In the spring, I’ve got the Knards and I’m riding gravel. In the summer I throw on slicks and ride road; and in the fall, it’s cyclocross season!

Favorite bike-related memory.

Most-definitely bikepacking in the North Woods last Fall. Touring is somewhat familiar, but bikepacking has always been on another level to me. I mean getting lost is par for the course, but it’s intimidating being in the middle of the woods and relying on your bike to get you around for a few days. We went when the leaves were just right for peeping and it was magical!

And my Straggler looked damn sexy all loaded up with gear!

If you could ride anywhere in the world, where would it be?

To be honest, I’d go back to Bootleg Canyon! With any sport, I think it can be hard to judge progress because you’re always trying harder things and getting shut-down in new ways. But the greatest feeling in the world is accomplishing something that you once deemed “impossible” for you! I want to go back to those trails at Bootleg that used to scare the living crap out of me and tear it up!

Where can people follow along with you?

Instagram: @rachelolzer

Well, folks, it’s been quite a while since we’ve dug through the ol’ Surly Dump and shared our findings with all of ya’s. We’ve been a little backed up, to say the least so, sorry about that. Today’s a new day though. And that day happens to be Friday. And on Friday’s we dump.

Since Monday’s Humanoids of Surly post was all about Rachel and her Straggler, I figured we keep Straggler Appreciation Week going with a whole dump dedicated to it.

Enjoy!

As you read this, I’m currently escaping to the desert for a while to ride around and camp and generally avoid responsibility for a couple weeks. As such, I figured that the desert would make a fine theme for this week’s Dump.

Enjoy and I’ll see you in a couple weeks!

And now, here’s some deserty death metal for you.

Sometimes less is more – This is a phrase that gets thrown around a lot, maybe too much. It can definitely ring true when it comes to backpacking and other outdoor pursuits though. When gear is selected for any outing, it’s important to consider which pieces are necessary to carry along, or maybe there is something else that can serve more than one purpose. I suppose a better word might be streamlined.

Welcome the newest member of our touring family, the Bridge Club. The name of the game with the Bridge Club is streamlined simplicity, designed for those tours that traverse both on-road or off-road surfaces.

When it comes to our touring line, the Pugsley is the ride you need when float and traction are critical. The Troll and Ogre are great for off-road touring and carrying BIG loads, but your route may be more pavement heavy or you may never want to run rim brakes. The ECR is the ultimate off-road touring rig, but not everyone is looking to tour across Mongolia. Our trucker line is the go-to for long distance road touring. But what if you want to throw caution to the wind and let your route, plans and terrain be chosen on a whim? On-road? Off-road? Who gives a shit. The Bridge Club will help you bridge the gap…See what I did there?

Bridge Club Geometry

We’ve been making off-road touring bikes for a while now, and over the years we have arrived at a pretty good geometry recipe when it comes to touring on dirt. The Bridge Club uses all of this experience and doesn’t stray far from the Troll/Ogre in ride geometry or fit geometry.

The first big difference is that the Bridge Club is designed around 27.5 x 2.4” (584 BSD) wheels/tires. We designed the Bridge Club to be a good off-road touring rig but kept in mind that someone may want to throw 700c wheels/tires and panniers on and knock out a classic road tour, this is totally possible with the Bridge Club.

The bottom bracket height reflects this at around 295mm/11.6” with the stock tire. This is about 13mm lower than the Ogre and 10mm lower than the Troll. This BB height will be adequate for most off-road situations you find yourself in but won’t be too high if you decide to do some on-road touring. The headtube angles, seat tube angles and ETT closely resemble that of the Troll with a few exceptions. The XS Bridge Club has a 1 degree slacker headtube angle than the Troll to account for toe clearance with a larger OD tire and ETT dimensions vary slightly across sizes.

Rear Spacing

I know what’s coming – “Fuck the bike industry and all of its ever-evolving standards, blah blah blah.” I hear your pain, I really do. The Bridge Club isn’t using a new standard but it is a little more obscure. The bike is designed around 141mm Boost QR hubs to allow for chain clearance and larger volume rubber. The rear spacing is Gnot Boost QR, in that the frame is designed at 138mm. This allows the use of 141mm Boost QR hubs or standard 135mm QR hubs. The frame will flex in or out 1.5mm per side to accommodate either hub width. It’s the same Gnot Boost idea but based around QR axles rather than thru axles.

Bridge Club Features

Many years of designing and testing touring bikes have led us to include feature sets that account for just about anything you may want to attach to your bike. For an ultimate off-road touring rig, like our ECR, numerous three pack mounts, dedicated Rohloff slots, horizontal dropouts, trailer mounts and cast yokes allow for nearly infinite options when it comes to customization. For someone who is just getting into touring or bikepacking that can be a lot to wrap your head around. Or maybe you have been bikepacking and touring for years and you know exactly what you want in a bike. After all, the Swiss Army Knife approach to features may be more than you want. The Bridge Club simplifies those features to the necessities that will get your there and back.

We designed a simpler plate style dropout that still has the Surly aesthetic, but without all of the complexity of our Troll dropout. The dropout features a horizontal slot for QR wheels, standard IS brake adapter capability, and mounts for racks and fenders. The ability to run a Rohloff Speedhub wasn’t forgotten, but isn’t as prominent in the Bridge Club as it is in the Troll dropout. The upper rack/fender boss can be used with an OEM2 axle plate and the Rohloff M5 adapter. A chain tensioner is also necessary for this application. The frame will need to be compressed 1.5mm per side to run a 135mm Rohloff hub (similar to our Gnot Boost frames) and is not compatible with the Rohloff A12 hubs.

The frame has triple bottle mounts on the top and bottom of the downtube, and a seat tube water bottle mount on the SM-XL frames. Triple guides on the top tube and single guides elsewhere take care of your cable wrangling needs. There are seatstay mounted barrel bosses for your rack mounting needs and a fender mount on the seatstay bridge.

The fork features upper and lower barrel bosses, one three pack mount on each leg, midblade eyelets, and rack mounts on the fork ends.

Tire Clearance

The Bridge Club was designed around a 27.5 x 2.4” tire, but in the spirit of Fatties Fit Fine we didn’t stop there. The frame and fork have clearance for up to 27.5 x 2.8” and 700 x 47c tires.

Individual tire and rim combos may affect tire clearance and will change bottom bracket height.

Check out the Bridge Club bike page for full spec details, however, highlights include:

SRAM X5 front derailleur, GX 10 speed rear derailleur, Tubeless ready WTB i29 rims and 2.4” Riddler tires, 30.0 mm Surly stainless seat collar, and a comfortable 17 degree swept back bar.

Choices are a wonderful burden sometimes, just ask me where we should go for brunch. I know a million places but I’ll waffle for hours trying to figure out the perfect spot. See what I did there again? Dad jokes aside, sometimes simplicity is just what a person needs. The Bridge Club does just that. Where other models in our line provide that wonderful burden, the Bridge Club provides enough options to outfit your bike for that next on-road or off-road tour without the extra decisions or stress. When it’s all said and done you may even have a little extra cash to grab that frame bag, rack or seat bag and start the long ride to touring glory.

If you’re pumped up by the ramble you just read and want to check out a Bridge Club in person, the following shops have pre-ordered bikes, which are in stores now, or arriving in the coming weeks. As always, international and intergalactic availability and pricing will vary depending on your current whereabouts.

Bicycle Habitat, New York, NY
The Hub Bicycle Co-op, Minneapolis MN
Bike Touring News, Boise ID
The Bike Rack, Washington DC
Thick Bikes, Pittsburgh PA
Halcyon Bike Shop, Nashville TN
Metropolis Cycle Repair, Portland OR
Angry Catfish Bicycle Shop, Minneapolis MN
Michael’s Cycles, Prior Lake, MN
Loose Nuts Cycles, Atlanta GA
Pedal LLC, Littleton CO
City Bike Tampa, Tampa FL
Gladys Bikes, Portland OR
Lee’s Cyclery & Fitness, Fort Collins CO
Bicycle Business, Sacramento CA
YAWP! Cyclery, Edgewater CO
Ponderosa Cyclery, Omaha NE
Blue Dog Bicycles, Tucson AZ

Some of you may remember awhile back when we turned the reins of the Surly Blog over to our pal Elena so she could tell us about her bikepacking trip up to the Superior National Forest. Maybe you remember. Maybe you don't. Maybe you're not even sure how you ended up here or what day of the week it is. Seeing as it's Monday and we usually post things on Mondays and Elena's last blog was so good and she just recently did another really cool bikepacking trip, we thought we'd hand things over to her again.

So, without further adieu, here's Elena.

Words by Elena Alsides-Haynes. Photos by Will Olsen.

Hey Surly fans,

I feel confident stating that this past winter here in the great frozen lands of Minnesota has been a real tough one. As Minnesotans, we try to put up a big front of faux hardiness in regards to our winters but this year was a tough one and I started to plan a winter escape as soon as the temperatures dipped below 30.

It's always been hard for me to even envision a relaxing vacation drinking fruity beverages on a beach for some reason. The idea of leaving a bike behind feels strange, and like I'd be a leaving a good friend out of the fun. So without even really ever discussing other options, my partner Will and I immediately began to look up bikepacking routes on one of our favorite resources, bikepacking.com. After exploring the magical and miserable Baja Divide route last year, and spending some time up north in October, we've grown to trust the routes on this website. Knowing that we A) definitely wanted to go somewhere warm, B) missed the desert, and C) wanted to go to a place that always has hot sauce in the condiment area of a restaurant table, New Mexico was a natural choice. We chose the New Mexico Off-Road Runner after reading the description, crossing our fingers that this route would have the smooth dusty dirt roads that we'd hoped for with the Baja Divide.

As is so often the case, the departure date for this trip approached both far too slowly and way too quickly all at once and before we knew it we were leaving the following week. On cue, I dissolved into a panic realizing I had barely done anything to prepare, and Will picked up the slack, shipped our bikes and reminded me that yes, I do know how to ride a bike and that it was all gonna be a-okay. Before we knew it, we were on a plane to El Paso, Texas where we were going to catch a commuter bus to Las Cruces, New Mexico. Public transportation rules.

Thanks to Justin, our friend and coworker from the Hub, who did this route about a month before us, we were set up to stay with a rad person named Kevin in Las Cruces, and later in the trip, a great couple named Mark and Amy just outside of Magdalena. Kevin had worked with Will to arrange for our bikes to be shipped to their house and picked us up from the bus station in a truck that looked like it was straight out of Fury Road. Due to this, combined with the fact that they were ridiculously nice, we took an instant liking to them.

We set to building our bikes as soon as we got out of the truck. Upon unpacking my fork I was hit with a reminder that I'd completely forgotten to investigate a creaking in my headset before the bikes got packed. I'd heard it when Chad and I did the trip up north, then promptly forgotten about it when I got back. The cause was obvious now: my bearings had exploded during transport, leaving behind a very worn looking cage. I was at least as crushed as my bearing, but Kevin and Will cheered me up. Kevin worked at a bike shop that was basically in his backyard, and we could go there right when it opened the next day. Resigning to the knowledge we'd be sticking around in Las Cruces one extra day, I cracked a beer and tried to relax.

That extra day in Las Cruces ended up being awesome. We grabbed a delicious breakfast at a place called Mesilla Valley Kitchen, checked out (and were very well taken care of at) Outdoor Adventures, the bike shop where Kevin worked and had some delicious brews and a lotta laughs at High Desert Brewing. Las Cruces treated us very well, and we were a little bit sad as we passed out that evening knowing we'd be leaving the next morning.

During our time at the brewery, we'd met another person who works at Outdoor Adventures and they told us about alternate route out of Las Cruces they called “No More Tortillas” that connected with the Off-Road Runner further along. This route was supposed to be super chill and primarily smooth dirt roads - really, all that Will and I were looking for. We downloaded it on to Ride With GPS that night and as we rolled out of town the next morning we were stoked to realize that it was exactly as promised. The No More Tortillas route delivered the ultimate chill and made our first day riding very enjoyable. At one point we decided to ride some pavement and by accident cut 20 miles from our day. We arrived in Hatch, worth noting as the "Green Chili Capital of the World", after 40-ish easy miles at 2 pm and promptly descended on Sparkys Burger & BBQ for its famed green chili cheeseburger.

Sparkys is worth a trip all on its own - the decorations are nearly overwhelming but once you take them all in they make the restaurant feel like a museum of historic diner and fast food history. All of the walls are covered in memorabilia from long gone restaurants, making it feel kitschy but in a charming way. We discussed the possibility of continuing on that day since we still had a good four hours of daylight left while we waited for our food but all talk ended as soon as our food arrived.

We each got a green chili cheeseburger, a shake (Will, a classic chocolate, me, a mango green chili), a lemonade (also with green chili) and fries. After our food, all thoughts of riding on dissolved. In my excitement over food and fierce stubborn optimism, I had ordered the shake in direct opposition to my lactose intolerance. Long story short it turned out that we were staying in Hatch that night. We got a hotel and Will tried not to laugh at me for the rest of our time there.

The next day's riding was a stark contrast to the previous. While it was indisputably hecking gorgeous — think vast blue skies and white sandy roads — there were multiple sections that had an eerie resemblance to Baja. At one point, after pulling my bike and then me up an incline that was reminiscent of a wall but full of rocks, Will remarked loudly "Wow what does this remind you of, HMMM?" This, plus the beating sun that had my shirt covered in sweat, left me with shaky legs at the halfway point. I was moving slow, much slower than we needed to be to make it to Truth or Consequences by the days end. I was cursing my soft winter legs, my smoker’s lungs, my continued insistence on bikepacking rather than going to a damn tropical hotel for vacation, and anything else that I could think of when my train of thought was derailed by a truck rambling down the road.

We pulled over for the truck to pass since we were on a narrow ranch road. The truck driver waved at us as he passed, and we nodded back. The passenger in the truck then got out and opened the gate to the ranch property we had just passed through and they drove through. Since we were paused and pulled off the road, I looked over at Will and asked if we could take a break. He nodded, we put our bikes on the ground and stretched. After a little bit, we were back on our bikes and double checking the route for any possible shortcut to town. The route has you detour from what is a relatively direct dirt path following power lines between the towns in order to refuel on water. This adds miles, but also ensures that you don't run out of water. We were looking to see if we could cut some miles by trying to rejoin the main dirt path when the truck returned on the dirt road. This time, it stopped.

"Hey you folks okay?" asked the driver.

"We're fine" Will replied.

"Where ya headed?"

"Truth or Consequences"

"Oh," the driver said, then looked at his companion and back at us, "so are we after turn off one more water pump. Want a ride?"

So fast that Will didn't have a chance to reply I replied "YES THANK YOU" and despite the incredibly large amount of time I spend listening to true crime podcasts I all but leaped into the bed of the truck. Will scrambled in after me with our bikes and then we were off, watching the dust from the road rise as the truck rambled on at a much faster pace then we had been moving.

Our road savior Miguel dropped us off in the hot springs district of Truth or Consequences. For those that don't know, one of the most incredible aspects of New Mexico is the availability of hot springs. In Truth or Consequences, it's pretty easy to book a room at a hotel that at least has a hot spring on the property. Since we hadn't reserved a room anywhere we missed out on getting a hot spring in our room but definitely managed to find a motel with one on the property. Our tired muscles appreciated it and we passed out rejuvenated.

The next day we rode to Winston, and I was thankful for the relatively paved roads as there were was a considerable amount of climbing. We knew when we chose to ride the route from south to north that we'd be doing a net elevation gain, however, in the scheme of things it was really only noticeable on a few of the days of the trip. This was one of them.

Winston is a fairly small town but has an awesome, incredibly stocked general store. We loaded up on chili dogs and chips and camped that night across the street in an RV park.

The next section has two options: you can do an epic sounding section in Chloride Canyon, or head straight towards Magdalena. We'd chosen to head towards Magdalena, and started early in the morning on some paved roads that quickly turned in gravel. The miles went fast, and we were feeling good when stopped for lunch about 30 miles into the day. After refueling on peanut butter, clementines, and hot Cheetos, we entered what was hands down the most beautiful and interesting section of the whole trip: the Cibola National Forest.

HOLY CRAP.

The riding was gorgeous. For the first time on the trip we were surrounded by Ponderosa pine trees, and we had an incredible long descent into Bear Trap Canyon where we encountered damp, pink sand and dirt and, much to our surprise, snow.

According to the route, we knew we were supposed to refill our water bottles here and we openly laughed when we realized that the place where we were supposed to refill our water bottles was in fact, a pond. A frozen pond. Remember the snow? We both took our own approaches to breaking the ice (Will found a rock, I stomped until the ice broke and my foot, potentially predictably, plunged into the cold water and I cursed everything I had ever known loudly until Will calmed me down). We pushed forward for a few miles after the pond until we found a national forest campground where we were promptly adopted by a family that was grilling brats over a fire and hanging out. One of the most amazing aspects of bike touring is unquestionably the profound kindness that strangers show. This family fed us, gave us multiple plastic water bottles and beers from their cooler, and helped us start a large fire that kept us warm long after they left.

The next morning was fucking cold.

Despite seeing the snow the day before, we were unprepared for how cold it got that night. The next morning had us shivering in our sleeping bags for warmth long after the sun broke through the sky. After accepting that it wasn't likely to get much warmer anytime soon, we packed up and rode out of Bear Trap Canyon and into the most magical descent of my life. The five-mile descent from Mt. Withington is full of switchbacks, has incredible views that stun you into silence, drops you off right in the middle of the Very Large Array, and then propels you forward on a chill doubletrack to Magdalena. The ride from Bear Trap to Magdalena is a relatively short section and we got there much quicker than expected. Here we were meeting with another group of folks our friend Justin had connected us with and they came and picked us up from town (they live about five miles out). Mark and Amy live on one of the most beautiful pieces of land I've ever had the privilege of staying on (the Cibola National Forest is their backyard) and due to their incredible kindness, Amy's amazing cooking, and the fact that despite how gorgeous the riding the day before had been, my legs were exhausted, we stayed an extra day with them and their adorable pups.

While we stayed with them we plotted our next move. The route from Magdalena north has a couple of options. There's an RV park about 60 miles from there that is fairly close to Belen, and from Belen, you can either catch the commuter train to Santa Fe or Albuquerque, or you can continue on into the Santa Fe National Forest and then Santa Fe. The forecast for the next few days was questionable and included rain. Rain on clay mud — a lot of what we were riding — spells disaster. There was no escape out of the national forest if the weather went to shit, and we were on a tight schedule to catch our flight. After deliberating, and a lot of grimacing as we remembered the wet clay mud from Baja, we chose to ride to Belen and catch the commuter train to spend a day in Santa Fe and then head to Albuquerque to pack our bikes and catch our flight.

The riding after Magdalena was beautiful and despite having to walk a few inclines since I was having trouble with the elevation gain, we made good time to Riley, a ghost town bordering the Rio Salado, where we stopped for lunch. The town was fascinating and as Will unpacked our lunch, I spent time reading the tombstones in the graveyard from a century ago. There are multiple obituaries that told of murder in stagecoach robberies. It was like being exposed to true tales of the Wild West, and I reveled in it as we ate our cold burritos.

From Riley, we hit fast moving dirt roads that after climbing, allowed us some of the most breathtaking and fun riding of the whole trip. We rode service roads that take you around the Sierra Ladrones — a mountain range that caps in a rugged looking peak and that you follow for miles and miles until you're on the other side and heading straight north. We did some of our fastest riding here and easily made our goal of reaching the RV park and setting up camp before sundown.

The next day we headed to Belen and to the end of our time riding the Off-Road Runner. As always, I was immediately wistful for the trip before we even clocked our last mile. As we rode our few remaining miles, Will and I were already planning our next tour.

Review of the Route:

This route is great. Riding South to North worked pretty well for us, though there are multiple reviews of riding the route from North to South too so check out those as well! We chose this direction due to it being more affordable to fly into El Paso from Minneapolis at the time of our trip and hearing rumors that the wind would be in our favor. The wind, predictably, did not care which way we were riding.

The elevation isn't a joke, if you're coming from a very low elevation place like the midwest, be aware that it might mess with you a bit.

We loved using our Trolls on this trip. You could probably get away with a narrower tire bike if you want. I love my 26" steel mountain bike though and think it worked out perfectly.

TUBELESS IS A REQUIREMENT. There are so many goat heads and little thorns, you will be thanking and hugging your tubeless tire after.

Do this route, ride it, have fun. Be in the desert. The desert rules. Escape the desolate winter whenever possible.

Today, I get to introduce the newest miscreant in our selection of nefarious products.

And because studio shots are boring, here is a video of our engineer, Thor, putting the Lowside to work.

Rat Ride, meet the Lowside

While Lowside is our newest bike, it is inspired from our very first frame, the 1x1 Rat Ride. This model pre-dates our little commercial exercise adopting the name “Surly”.

As our 1998 “catalog” — and I use that term very generously because it was just a couple pieces of paper folded and stapled together — states:

“Nobody wants to spend a bunch of cash on a single-speed… and why should they? To do so is contrary to the whole spirit of the single-speed experience.”

and

“The geometry is, well, regular. Take this “Rat Ride” for a spin and you’ll find that it “rides like a bike.” Isn’t that what really matters?”

We tried to focus on these concepts when revisiting the legacy 1x1 frame. Our goal was to do something that would be fun to ride, stripped down and simple, compatible with a lot of parts you already own, and a bit of a throwback — but not too far back. Many of us still have 1x1s and enjoy them, but that bike is a bit dated. Bike handling geometry has changed a lot but the simple execution of it remains a defining feature. Bike fit has evolved. Trails we ride on are different. We love our old 1x1s because the bike just works. We wanted to address all of this with the Lowside. Produce a bike that was decidedly simple and fun to ride, but matched our expectations around bike fit and riding style, and was a bit less costly to produce.

Where Have All the Barnacles Gone?!

With simplicity front of mind, we intentionally left off many of the rack and accessory fitments found on our other bikes. Most cable guides are intentionally omitted. All the little bits add-up and contribute to the cost of our bikes and frame. We left them off to help manage costs as well as to not distract from what this bike is focused on: knocking around and having a good time. The geometry is intentionally low and tight to keep the Lowside nimble and fun to whip around. If you want to put a rack or fenders on your Surly, we make lots of other models that do that.

While it does have some modern touches like an oversized headtube, thru-axles and a hole for stealth dropper post routing; it does have a decidedly simple aesthetic, and when paired with our Sunrise handlebar — included on the complete bike – has a bit of a klunker look to it.

It’s kind of an odd duck — The Lowside is not for everyone, and that’s ok.

Matt, one of our test riders put it well:

“A low-slung retro-modern mountain bike with enough versatility to get you into trouble, then thrash your way out.”

You Might Be Asking Yourself…

Why does it have the derailleur hanger? We’ve found that when a bike lasts a long time, you’ll find yourself tinkering with it and cooking up other uses for it than you intended. It didn’t cost us — or you — anything more to just have the dropout with the hanger included on it. So, it’s there if you find the need/want/desire to add a derailleur and some more gears.

The tubeset is a classic round constant outer diameter tubeset vs. the flared tubes we use on bikes like the Karate Monkey. But why? The tubes on the Lowside are lighter and keep a simpler aesthetic.

That oversized headtube… can I run a suspension fork on it? Yes. We’ve tested it for use with 100mm travel suspension forks intended for 27.5 wheels. Front axle spacing on the stock wheel is boost (15x110mm) if you are considering an upgrade. Make sure the fork fits 26+ full 3” tires. The stock Dirt Wizards, our recently updated full 3” version, demands appropriate tire clearance.

The Big-Kid Version of Your Childhood Bike

I remember my first bike: a simple little BMX bike that I used for transportation around the neighborhood, to the corner store to get some candy, and to jump off and up curbs. The Lowside channels this as well. It’s certainly not intended to be a full on enduro mountain bike rig, but it is a blast to rip off-road. It’s not an ideal commuting rig if you’re tracking your time and trying to PB across town, but it would brighten it up. I know my rides home from the office include more alley short cuts and diversions on the Lowside then when I ride other bikes.

Carry on and may your alleys be warned.

Get On One Now!

If you’re into the idea of a bruiser single speed with wide bars, big tires, and a bit of a different look, we’ve got a small amount of these hitting stock in the US now. If you want to see one today, the dealers listed below have them on their floors. As always, international and intergalactic availability and pricing will vary depending on your current whereabouts. 

United States price - $1,200 for the complete bike. $600 for the frame. (international prices and availability may vary) 

Rage Bicycles – Scottsdale, AZ 
Pedal – Littleton, CO 
City Bike Tampa – Tampa, FL 
Loose Nuts Cycles – Atlanta, GA 
Angry Catfish – Minneapolis, MN 
Metropolis Cycle Repair – Portland, OR 
Universal Cycles – Portland, OR 
Thick Bikes – Pittsburgh, PA

Just give us your email and no one will get hurt.

Stay up to date on the latest around Surly-land with the monthly Surly Transmission emails and other worthwhile correspondence from the mothership.

About two and a half years ago I sat down to write a blog about the newest tire in the Surly family, the ExtraTerrestrial touring tire.  We sure love that tire, and over the last couple years wanted something similar to run on other touring models, like our Long Haul Trucker and Disc Trucker.  Based on rider feedback, it seems you all wanted the same thing. Well, I’m happy to say, today is your lucky day.  We now have two younger siblings to the original ET, in the form of 700c x 41mm and 26” x 46mm.  The new kids still adhere to the original ET philosophy but with more focus on the paved side of things.

Tread Pattern Layout

We stuck to a very similar tread pattern to what is found on the large volume ET’s.  The chevron center lug is large and tightly packed to cut down on rolling resistance.  We condensed all the knobs closer together and maintained a uniform tread height so there is a constant transition as you lean the tire over.  There is a small file tread on the surface of the transition and cornering knobs to help with traction on pavement.  Adequate gaps between knobs were maintained for proper water and moderate mud shedding.

Tire Sizes

When we were deciding on width for these new tires we first looked to our LHT and Disc Truckers and tried to maximize the size for those models.  The 26” and 700c version of these bikes share chainstays so we were able to fit a slightly wider 26” tire than 700c in the rear end of the Trucker line.  The 700c x 41mm tire will also fit in existing 700c Straggler, Cross-Check and Bridge Club frames.  The 26” x 46mm tire will fit in existing Pack Rat frames if you are looking for a more touring focused tire or something with more flat protection than the stock tires.

These tires will also work on your Troll or Ogre if you are looking for something narrower than the stock setup.

The dimensions shown below were measured after sitting at max pressure for 24 hours on an Alex Adventurer 2 rim (21mm inner and 26mm outer width).  Dimensions will vary at different pressures and rim widths.

Other Features

• Tubeless ready, folding, aramid bead
• Nylon sidewall breaker
• Anti-cut propagation pattern molded into sidewall
• Anti-puncture aramid tread cap
• New 65A rubber compound – more supple and longer wearing than the 64A compound in the original ET tires.

We’ve been riding these tires for a while now and can say they certainly measure up to their older siblings.  While the older sibling 29” and 26” x 2.5” ET’s are like your (my) older brother – a little rough around the edges and likes to get wild at times – these new additions are a little more reserved.  They are stellar on pavement but aren’t afraid of heading off road if the need arises.  Both tires are now available wherever you normally get our stuff.

$40 USD. International prices and availability may vary. Check out our dealer locator page to find the shop nearest you. 

For even more info, check out the tire pages here: 

ExtraTerrestrial 700x41

ExtraTerrestrial 26x46 

Words by me. Photos by Mike, Paul, Rusty, Donald and myself.

After a crazy couple of crazy days with Blue Dog and friends in Tucson, I rented a car and pointed towards Santa Fe. Narrowly beating the sunset, I drove as far as Truth or Consequences New Mexico… and for the record, all I saw was consequences. I showed up at the Broken Spoke the next day just before 4 pm after hitting the local REI for some iso gas and bars, and then returning my rental car. I quickly sorted my gear and packed up my 27.5+ ECR for a three-day desert ramble with the shop crew, customers and friends of The Broken Spoke. To my surprise, there were 18 people on bikes waiting for me behind the shop ready to roll out! That is probably the best showing I think I’ve ever seen for a bikepacking excursion. We rolled out en mass pointed west towards the Rio Grande with what turned out to be just enough daylight to make it to our first camp spot for the night. We set up our bags, bivouacs, and tents on a scrubby mesa and set to work building a fire, cooking food and cracking the few beers we had found room to stash. Luckily there were many flasks and other conversation lubricants abound to keep us laughing well into the night.

The next morning, we said farewell to about half the group that could only make it a S24O, so the remaining 9 of us packed up and headed to the water stash Owen had dropped the day before. This group now was mostly Broken Spoke staff and a few friends who had joined us for the previous year’s Surly adventure. Everyone save for our friend Donald was on Plus MTB Bikes and the extra volume would prove to be a clear advantage as the day wore on. We were headed North towards the Rio Grande again but needed to catch up with some trails that were on the opposite side of the hills and mazes of roads we were currently on. We scouted many promising looking trails only to find their terminus to be a boulder-strewn wash or that they simply petered out into nothing but dust and cacti. The trail we eventually found lead us up a grueling climb to a much-needed lunch break. Once I got my bearings I realized I had explored this area before with Cass Gilbert about three years ago on my first trip to Santa Fe. This trail I knew took us up over some short but hefty climbs to the Soda Springs descent; that even on a Krampus with a suss fork was scary, exposed and left little margin for error.

My bike up to this point had performed flawlessly: Small 27.5 ECR, Whisky No.9 41mm carbon rims/ DT 340 hubs, WTB Trail Boss 3.0/ Ranger 2.8 tubeless, Moloko bars, BB7s, full Revelate bag kit, Anything cages and flat pedals. The chunky nature of the trails on this second day was about as chunky on a grit scale can go before you call it riding in a boulder or scree field. The cacti and goat-heads build up in your treads, the rocks are sharp and want to slice your side walls and the dirt and sand make floatation a real hot commodity. Tubeless is necessary and plus tires are recommended if you want to enjoy the ride vs. merely survive, and as always, steel is indeed real if you value the integrity of your bones. In short, our plus bikes, MTB & dirt touring, seem to be tailor-made for this type of riding. I couldn’t help but say this numerous times in the best Sam Elliott drawl I could: “This here is plus country”. I was initially worried about my choice of tires not being tough enough and was questioning why I hadn’t just played it safe with a tried and true Knard/Dirt Wiz combo. But the WTBs came away unscathed and had enough traction to allow me to brag that I didn’t crash and pretty much cleaned all the sketchy stuff.

Speaking of sketchy stuff, as we climbed and descended the baseball/Softball size rocky chunder, I started thinking back to the Soda Springs descent and remembered how tight the hairpins are. I thought about the extra wheelbase on the ECR, the lack of front suspension and all the gear I was I was packing this time. I swallowed hard into the initial descent before the long drop into the Rio Grande Valley and regrouped. Something in me told me to stop thinking about it and just go for it, so I hopped off the front to plunge down the washed-out trail. Simply stating that we “rode” this part of the trail is maybe not even the appropriate nomenclature to describe the experience, as it’s more like you “surf” sections of this trail down. The switchbacks are about as tight as they come, the dirt is deep, loose and shifting as the rocks strewn about move around as you navigate through them. If you high-side a hairpin or lose your concentration on the top half of the most exposed section, it will be a painful wait for your helicopter extraction. Luckily we all made it down intact and traded stories of our various successes and failures. Mike from Broken Spoke said, “no dabbs” which is quite impressive, though I feel I have to point out he had a KM with a sus fork. I dabbed twice towards the end but otherwise cleaned it, which once again made me double take the ECR: What can’t this bike do?!

We pedaled on down the canyon NE towards the opening of Caja Del Rio, which would lead us into the sinister shadows of Diablo Canyon where we would camp for the night. I had ridden this arroyo years ago and remembered how taxing it was, even on a plus bike, and was not looking forward to those last few miles slogging through the sand. Luckily our friend Paul had stashed a cooler of barley pops, ice and drinking water off Buckman road, so we filed into the underbrush to rest and enjoy some shade before we pushed on up the road to drop into the Devil’s Canyon itself. We played in the arroyo and challenged each other to ride the boulders and weird lines before settling into a nice soft and sandy clearing for the evening. That night around a modest blaze, we shared the remainder of the beers from the stash and told tales of both stark truth and wild absurdity as the moon rose above those dark walls. I slept in a bivy with a Big Agnus -20 bag and to my surprise, two sleeping pads, needless to say, I, was snug as a bug in a rug. Temps were still chilly to be sure but because my synthetic 15* bag is more like a 40* comfort wise, I thought going overkill would be the better call, Aaaaand it was   

Day 3. The last leg back into town was a trying one that started with the worst slog of shit washboard dirt road I have recent memory of. 8 miles of constant 2% grade uphill on washboard dirt and sandy shoulders, just what the doctor ordered first thing in the morning for my tired legs. The elation when we finished that section and came up to a paved bike path point back towards town was palpable and talk of burritos incited a quickening of pace. We curved through bourgeois suburbs with their perfectly sculpted adobe mansions towards what would be our last taste of single track before arriving back in the concrete jungle. La Tierra trails are a fun place to go shred some dusty corners and practice hangin’ a little air on the mini jump line. We rode said jump line but I’m not sure my wheels ever left the ground. Shortly thereafter we beelined to the burrito spot and installed some much-needed calories, I for one had eaten the last shot block I had an hour ago so I was running on fumes. And that is where we all parted ways, dirty af and all in need of a nap.

I found a cheap room and ended up convincing Owen to drive us up to the Japanese spa for a soak in their amazing outdoor hot tubs. I then met back up for dinner with Mike, Owen and the Broken Spoke crew for a New Mexican feast as our parting “thank you” dinner from the brand for being such a kick ass promoter of the brand and all around excellent people to do business with. Big time thanks to everyone who joined us both days and especially Mike, Owen, Jett, Nate, Paul, Rusty, Adam and Donald for making it for the long haul. You guys are a blast to adventure with. Until next time!

And I leave you with this apropos song just because being decidedly uncool is very amusing to me:

“There will be a dessert challenge. I will reimburse everyone $4.20 each to make the most scrumptious camp dessert. You can pool your money with others if you desire. Fabulously shitty prices awarded to the top winners. Fleck will be the judge.”

Another Surly Campout, another food-based competition put forth by the Head Zeigle Scout himself. This time was a little different though. Since he’d handed the judging responsibilities off to John “I’m just not that much of a dessert guy” Fleck, he’d be dipping his toes into the competition himself this year.

You might recall last year’s challenge was dinner for under $5. There were some seriously heavy hitters that really brought their A-game, but it was Kippley’s late-night chili cheese fries that took the grand prize. We all knew Kippley would be one to watch as she had a title to defend. This was confirmed in the grocery store when she walked by me and said two simple words that told me I really had to step it up this year: “Pasta Machine.”

Back at the bikes, we munched on some deli-counter fried chicken that Fleck had procured as we loaded our ingredients on our already heavily-laden rigs. The theme of this year’s campout was maximalism so there were plenty of non-essentials that made their way into our set-ups. We reserved plenty of room for beverages though. After one more stop to acquire said beverages, we headed to the campsite and began setting up.

They were expecting us.

When one of your Silver Bullets springs a leak, you must do what is necessary.

After tents were pitched, beers were cracked, and a fire was built, everyone made quick work of getting their dinner cooked so we could get on with the main event. Various tubed meats made their way onto the grill or skewered over the flame. Zeigle was feeling fancy and made a steak. It was all fine.

Shortly after everyone was done with their dinner, the competition got underway.

Here’s what everyone came up with:

Zeigle’s Banana’s Foster

If you’re thinking that Zeigle just threw some bananas and walnuts in a pan and roasted it over the fire, well… you’d be right. He did use one of the prizes, an airplane bottle of coconut rum to bring out the flavor a bit, which definitely helped. All in all, I’d say it was a pretty valiant effort, but it wasn’t quite enough to break into the top four. Fleck awarded his effort fifth place (or dead last if you want to be a dick about it), for which there was no prize.

Well, I guess there would’ve been a prize had Paul not used it in his dessert.

Andrew’s “Cookies”

The newest member of the Surly team, this was Andrew’s first campout cooking challenge. I must say, he brought some really good flavors to his dessert, but his presentation was lacking a bit. He started things out by mashing the shit out of some off-brand (because you know, budget constraints) Oreo cookies until all he had was some crumbs. He added some almonds for texture and from there, began forming them into small cookie shapes and frying them in a pan over the fire. I’m not sure if he used a binder of some sort of not but they immediately fell apart in the pan, so my assumption is that he didn’t. After plating them, he added a little whip cream that I had left over from my dessert to top them and mask the fact that they kind of looked like he ate a bunch of coffee beans and crapped them out on the plate. Despite looking like caviar of the ass, he had some really strong flavors going on, so Fleck awarded him fourth place.

Trevor’s Holy Manoli

A late entry to the competition, it was looking like Trevor was going to sit this one out. After everyone else’s concoctions had been consumed and Fleck was just about to go into deliberation (which was him walking off into the darkness for some alone time in the woods for about fifteen minutes), Trevor got in the game. Nobody, including Trevor I’m fairly certain, knew what he was making but it started with him cutting a donut in half and putting it on the grill to caramelize. He then skewered a couple bananas and started roasting them over the open flame whilst occasionally pouring fireball over the top.

When it came time to plate, he sandwiched the banana between the donut halves, put a little melted chocolate and some whipped cream on top and said bon appétit. It was good. Really good. So good in fact that it made Andrew — who, we learned on this trip, loves using phrases that can really only be described as “cute” — utter the words “holy manoli” as he was eating it.

And thus, Trevor’s Holy Manoli was born. For his flavor, presentation, and general sense of not knowing what the hell he was doing, Fleck awarded him third place.

Sweet Beef’s Sweet Dutch Baby

As my kielbasa tacos were happily digesting, I quickly began getting my dessert creation going. In keeping with the maximalist theme, I’d lugged a full size cast-iron Dutch oven and secondary cast-iron skillet to aid in my baking. As soon as I heard tell of the challenge, I knew that a Dutch baby was in order. As a topping, I decided to go with Fireball-flambéed apples and whipped cream that I made from scratch. I pre-mixed my dry ingredients at home and transported them in a blender ball shaker cup. To that, I added my two beaten eggs and some milk and shook the shit out of it.

When my Dutch oven was pre-heated, I melted some butter and poured in my batter. I threw the lid on and got to work on my apples. I diced them up and began sautéing them in butter over the fire, occasionally adding in some fireball to flambé the apples and reduce into a nice caramelly syrup. For my whip cream, I cleaned out my shaker cup, added some heavy whipping cream and a free sugar packet I’d scored at the grocery store deli. I commenced shaking until I couldn’t hear the blender ball moving anymore.

My timer beeped, and I checked on my baby. It wasn’t puffing up like I wanted it to. I began to doubt how it would turn out. I decided to give it a few more minutes in hopes that it would miraculously decide to defy all rules of chemistry and puff up in the final moments of cooking. It didn’t.

When it came time to plate, I took the Dutch baby out of the Dutch oven (a bit of an odd-sounding phrase if you remove the word Dutch from it…) and poured my apples on top. I then stupidly put my whip cream on it without giving it sufficient time to cool so I ended up with quite the mess. But it was a goddamn delicious mess if I do say so myself. Everyone really loved it and for a while, I thought I had it in the bag. However, Kippley did as Kippley does and knocked another dessert challenge out of the park so I ended up with second place. Fleck said we were neck and neck, but he gave me second because I doubted myself. So, in the end, I came away from this competition with a valuable life lesson… and a tiny bottle of Peppermint Schnapps.

Kippley’s Dessert Raviolis

As I was toiling over the fire with my various cast iron implements, Kippley fetched the fabled pasta machine from her pannier and secured it to the table. She then began mixing a dough in a ziplock bag. As she was kneading, everyone’s curiosity was piquing. What the hell was she planning on making with a pasta machine? As she started rolling out the dough, it became apparent it was some sort ravioli situation. She’d also bought a package of strawberries and smartly, and bravely, meandered down the clearance aisle of the grocery store for some sea salt caramel Rolos.

With her dough rolled out, she began assembling; first placing a slice of strawberry followed by a Rolo on the sheet of dough. She folded them over, sliced them apart, and put them on her oiled-up pan. She fried them for a while and plated, topping each little pillow with a dollop of Andrew’s leftover cookie mix and my whip cream.

Friends, I’ve eaten a lot of pretty good food in my lifetime. Good food is what I live for and good food while camping, well, that’s like a bonus. I can say with certainty, that I’ve never had something as good as these raviolis while sitting around a campfire. Kippley really outdid herself this year and she did it with a pasta machine she’d only owned for five days. That’s impressive if you ask me. Evidently, Fleck thought so too and awarded Kippley’s Dessert Raviolis first prize.

Well done, Amy!

Since Dan decided not to compete in the competition, he was on breakfast duty. He grabbed a dozen eggs from the store and made a big pan of scrambled eggs using some of the desert sage that Trevor found in his pocket the night before. When combined with some tortillas, breakfast sausage, and Fleck’s special reserve of leftover Taco Bell Fire Sauce packets, we had ourselves some mighty fine breakfast tacos.

After breakfast, we packed up and pointed towards home. Of course, there were a few beer stops along the way turning this year’s sub-24 into more of a sub-40. But that’s fine.

Trevor's Cabana

Fireball-fueled fireball

Judging food competitions is hard work, right Fleck?

And now for no real reason at all, please enjoy some Type O Negative on the house.

I slowly awoke from a foggy dream of kangaroos and koalas during a very long flight to the other side of the world. Back in Minnesota, we’d just experienced a late-April snowstorm, so it felt good to escape to a warmer climate. My destination was SCV Imports in Tuggerah, Australia where I would hang out for a day before embarking on an overnight ride with SCV staff and some Surly dealers. Luckily, my visit coincided with their Friday barbie tradition. We could smell the 5 lb. pork shoulder Chris Dmitrieff had on the grill as we approached SCV headquarters.

After a tour of the office and the meat fest lunch, I worked on getting the Karate Monkey setup for the next day’s ride. SCV had booked some rooms at a 200-year-old pub in a remote area of New South Wales. We needed only to carry sufficient food, water, and clothing for two days of riding.  By late afternoon the jet lag started to weigh on me and I knew I needed a good night sleep if I was going to enjoy the next couple days of riding.

The next morning, I took a cab to Stu Voysey’s (head honcho at SCV and instigator behind the overnight ride) house for some breakfast and to meet up with Pepper and Hew from Commuter Cycles in Melbourne. After a hearty breakfast — including some toast with Vegemite — we packed up the bikes and rolled out to the nearest train station. The rest of the crew came from north and south and we all met at one of the train stops in the middle. The train runs along the coast and is very affordable and more efficient than driving. After introductions, we headed out from the train station and pointed inland. Staff from Omafiets(Sydney), Metro Cycles(Newcastle) and Commuter Cycles were represented. It didn’t take long to realize we all had similar objectives for the days ahead.

After a couple miles on paved roads, we turned onto a less traveled gravel road and started the first of many climbs of the day. Feeling a little sluggish, I diverted my attention to absorbing my new surroundings. It was much more lush and green than I expected. The sounds of birds were prevalent especially the bellbirds. They sound like a loud squeaky derailleur pully but are very elusive to the eye. It was humid with temps in the upper 60’s which made for comfortable riding. Riding all day gave us plenty of time to chat and get to know one another along the way. Our pace was casual and included plenty of Flasky stops for electrolyte replenishment. Our destination was St. Albans where we would eat, drink, and sleep at the Settlers Arm Inn.

At one regroup spot we found some abandoned bikes and lawn chairs and decided to take a beverage break. Oliver from Omafiets was riding a Blackborrow with Cardice saddle bags loaded with beer. We were all more than happy to lighten his load. We then challenged others to some feats of strength on some abandoned bikes that were barely ridable. After an 89 km day, we arrived before nightfall just in time for a quick swim in the MacDonald River across the road from the pub. 

After dinner and multiple rounds of beer at the pub, we all eventually found our way to our beds for some well-deserved rest. The next day would be a little shorter but included more off-road. Day two would take us on a 200-year-old road constructed by convicts called The Great North Road. The road was built by hand and has culverts and retaining walls constructed with carved sandstone blocks. The bedrock is primarily sandstone and the road consisted of sand, gravel, and both smooth and eroded sandstone. Some of it reminded me of riding in Moab. Most of it was ridable and included some interesting technical climbing and descending. The Karate Monkey was a little sluggish on the previous day’s gravel climbs but shined on the technical trails of day two. 

Everyone had a good time talking business, bikes, and past rides. Many of the shop employees, owners, and SCV staff had never met each other in person. They all agreed it was a great idea and were already planning a trip for next year. I saw my first kangaroo with a couple joeys and plenty of dead and swollen wombats along the side of the road. We ended the day back on the coast at a Pub before jumping on a train and going our separate ways.

The day before I returned home, I had some time to visit a couple shops in Sydney. Omafiets offered to loan me a demo for the day so I walked from my hotel to their shop first. Their shop is next to a protected cycleway with bikes going by all day. They started the business importing containers of used Dutch city bikes and slowly grew the shop in other categories. They focus on commuters, cargo, touring and bikepacking. They had a good mix of Surly bikes including a Big Fat Dummy hanging from a hoist.

They set me out on a Brompton demo to use for the day so I made my way south to Summit Cycles. It was a little crazy riding on the wrong side of the road in busy traffic and made for an exciting ride on little wheels through uncharted streets. Summit focuses on mountain bikes and they do a lot of custom builds. I met up with Adam from Summit and a couple Surly Karate Monkey owners at Lord Nelson Brewery for an evening of tasty microbrews.

Thanks to Stu from SCV for hosting a great event and the opportunity to connect with some passionate Surly dealers of Australia. Cheers!     

It's time once again for another edition of Humanoids of Surly. Last time, Rachel from Minneapolis gave us a glimpse into her life's work dealing with animal sex and genitalia (UPDATE: Rachel has officially gone from Ph.D. student to Ph.D. CANDIDATE. So congrats Rachel!) and all the things she does on her Straggler.

For the second edition of Humanoids of Surly, we take a trip out to Portland to hear from Madi Carlson. Madi pushes the limits of possibility aboard her custom-painted Pinkto Bismol Big Dummy. Having two kids, one dog, and zero cars may seem like a challenge to many people, but not Madi. She's turned her Big Dummy into the ultimate family truckster and has done a pretty damn good job inspiring others to do the same.

Let's hear what Madi has to say, shall we?

Name: Madi Carlson

Location: Portland, Oregon

Who do you think you are anyway?

Hi, I’m Madi, a mom who bikes. I bike with my eleven- and eight-year-old sons and our nine-pound chiweenie dog named Pixie. “Mom who bikes” pretty much sums me up…except that it’s hard to embrace utility bicycling (biking for transportation versus biking for recreation) and not fall into advocacy. So I’m also a family biking advocate. I’m an everyone biking advocate, of course, but moms are an indicator species for safe bicycling. We appreciate bike infrastructure designed for all ages and abilities and the more of us you see, the more pleasant the conditions are for getting around by bike. I’m an author and write about – surprise – bicycling for transportation. My interests include talking about any sort of biking to anyone who will listen, and my hobbies are leading group family bike rides, going bike camping, shopping for groceries by bike, and carrying awkward and/or heavy stuff by bike.

Last summer we moved from Seattle to Portland and I’m really enjoying getting to know my new bikeable city.  Mostly I’m just filled with glee about how much flatter it is here. Of course, I knew the flattest possible way to get anywhere in Seattle (always check with a local family biker if you want to know a flat and/or low-traffic way to get somewhere in your city) so I was able to get around Seattle just fine…but it’s much less tiring to get around Portland. Being in a slightly smaller and less metropolitan city also means being able to reach new places by bike – we can bike to IKEA here! It’s right off a flat multi-use path we can pick up near our house. And we biked to an actual farm with a hay maze to get our Halloween pumpkins! That was off a different flat multi-use path we can get to easily from our house. Of course it’s not all rosy here in the City of Roses:  we discovered on our one snow day from school that it’s a pain to go sledding here. In Seattle one simply has to walk out the front door for a great sledding hill. Here we had to bike two and a half miles to find a decent slope.

How’d you get into bikes?

It’s in my blood. My mother was born in the Netherlands (bikiest country in the world!) and she’d bring us home to visit with her family every few years during the summer. So I grew up getting a taste of riding bikes everywhere for weeks on end…mostly chasing after my grandmother on windy islands, pushing with all my might against the pedals of a clunky rental bike. When my Dutch cousins started having babies and putting them in cool seats on their bikes I knew I’d someday do the same, even though I’d never seen any kids on their parents’ bikes in America at that point.

My first kid-carrying contraption was the same Dutch bike seat my cousins all used – the Bobike Mini – found on eBay and attached to the front of a too-big beach cruiser that’d been collecting dust in my garage. It was awesome! I got a bike with gears just before having my second baby and added a second seat – the Bobike Maxi – to the back of the bike in order to fit both kids. It was great to have all three of us on a bike that fit on the bus and have my body as a barrier between “Mr. Stranglehands” and his brother. It was hard to admit we were outgrowing that sweet little bike – I lengthened my stem three times to accommodate growing toddler legs in the front seat. I kept my saddle much too low in order to reach the ground since I couldn’t slide forward due to the Bobike Mini. I also pedaled with my feet on the outer edges of the pedals and forward a bit to avoid heel strike with the growing feet of the kid behind me and aimed my knees out to the sides to avoid the front seat. But we made do for years and years like that. Note: on a proper Dutch bike there’s sufficient space to fit kid seat, knees, and heels. But Dutch bikes are made for Dutch terrain and I couldn’t have managed biking around Seattle on one.

Obviously I should have got my Surly much sooner than I did and for that I blame one of my Dutch cousins. The first time I saw a bakfiets (the longjohn style cargo bike with a big wooden box in the front) I was 13. I gasped and stopped dead in my tracks gaping at it. I ran after my oblivious cousin, grabbing her arm and demanding she tell me what I was looking at. She scoffed and said those were just for rich Dutch mothers and no one in our sensible family would ever have one. My cousin was the coolest and wisest person I had ever known so of course I would never ever betray the family and get a cargo bike of any sort.

My kids were four and two-and-a-half when I finally came to my senses and got the bike that made me who I am. I’ll always have the fond memories of figuring out how to carry stuff for three people on my first mamabike – wearing my groceries tucked in my ring sling baby carrier, small canvas bag of beach toys looped over the front baby seat’s windscreen, stroller bungeed to the side of the basket only half accessible under the rear baby seat. But the moment I shoved off on my Surly and realized I could stand in the pedals to climb a hill again and had more storage than I knew what to do with, I never looked back.

Tell us about your Surly.

I have a Surly Big Dummy longtail cargo bike. No, they don’t normally come in pink, I had it powder coated. I’m curious to ask Surly what they’d name this color, but I’m pretty sure the answer would be unprintable. I got my bike six years ago when I was “car-lite” and have since become fully car-free so it’s our minivan and I ride it everywhere. The wonderful thing about longtail cargo bikes is that they made it easy to fit both kids and their bikes onto the bike. When I got this bike both my kids were riding balance bikes and I would stick the kids on the deck and their little bikes in the cargo bags and pedal us somewhere safe enough for them to ride. When they graduated to bigger bikes with pedals I would “bag-and-drag” their bikes – front wheel in the cargo bag, back wheel trailing out the back. Now I have a special two-bike fork-mount tow hitch I can attach to the back of my bike if I want to tow their bikes and still have room in my cargo bags to carry additional stuff, but fortunately, at eight and eleven they’re mostly riding their own bikes these days. However, I always bring my Big Dummy when we go out, just in case one kid and his bike needs a lift. Plus you never know when you’re going to find a free table on the side of the road.

My bike enables me to do anything I’d need to do with a car. I can buy enormous amounts of groceries, and still pick up the kids from school, and even add in an impromptu trip by the library for more books than we can possibly get through before they’re due. With a car, combining errands like that is mundane and forgettable, but doing it by bike is adventurous and empowering. The simple act of getting around with this bike capable of carrying three (I sometimes borrow a spare) kids makes me feel like a superhero, even when I don’t have any precious cargo. I have high hopes my kids will someday help carry crap, but in the meantime, I can easily carry all our stuff (and our dog and her stuff) anywhere we go, even camping.

Favorite bike-related memory.

Bike camping with a broken foot last summer! Admittedly, I probably wouldn’t have gone had I not been the person who organized and led the trip, but thanks to my Big Dummy it worked out just fine. I had broken my foot the previous week – I tripped while mowing the lawn, but if anyone asks I was saving a litter of corgi puppies from a burning building and had to jump out a third story window. Walking was incredibly painful, but riding my bike was A-OK. I didn’t feel confident piloting my bike with the kids on board so this was also a huge weekend for them, as they had to pedal themselves all the way to the campsite for the first time. I made out just fine carrying our stuff and the dog and the kids did even better than I thought they would. So I led a longer, hillier camping trip three weeks later, foot still broken. My Big Dummy weighs about 75 pounds (though you can easily build a svelter one), but it was the bike I felt most comfortable riding while my foot was healing. It’s a smooth, stable bike, even when it’s loaded down with a bunch of stuff.

If you could ride anywhere in the world, where would it be?

It’s tempting to use this question as an excuse to have myself, my bike, and my kids imaginarily flown to the Netherlands and ride around with my relatives. I’ve never used a bike with gears there! Not that there’s anything wrong with those near-indestructible single-speed omafietsen.

But more realistically, I’d love to bike in San Francisco for the first time. Half of my childhood was spent in the East Bay and I biked all around there, but never in San Francisco. When I moved back for a few years as an adult I commuted to San Francisco for work, but never by bike. Back then everyone I knew who rode a bike or motorcycle in the City had been hit by people driving cars. I commuted by longboard skateboard – one mile from home to BART on the East Bay side and then one more mile to work in San Francisco. And I got hit, too. A man in a minivan made eye contact with me, yet still blew through his stop sign and plowed into me in an intersection. The streets have changed drastically since then, but I haven’t been back to see for myself. Plus I have a bunch of mom friends who bike with their kids there now (indicator species, remember?). I’d love to join them!

Where can people follow along with you?

I’m available in book form: Urban Cycling: How to Get to Work, Save Money, and Use Your Bike for City Living, probably at your local library and bookstore, but also all the usual online places. There’s a chapter about biking with kids and cargo bikes, but it’s a book for everyone interested in using a bike for transportation.

My family biking blog is familyride.us and I Tweet and Instagram at @familyride. Please do get in touch if you want to talk family biking or need tips for finding family biking resources in your community.

A few weeks back I had the utmost privilege of attending Dirt Rag’s annual gathering of the dirtbags known as Dirt Fest along with Fritz, KLEM, and honorary Surly Goof Trooper Brad Quartuccio. Now, I’ve been a little jealous of my Surly comrades in the past after hearing tales of Dirt Fests past, so naturally, I jumped at the opportunity to finally attend one.

And I was not disappointed. To the best of my recollection, here’s how it all went down.

Kate and I flew into Pittsburgh where our chariot (Brad) awaited. Immediately after leaving the city to drive the 3ish hours to the Fest, we made our first pit stop which was, let’s face it, the real reason for this trip. I’m of course speaking of SHEETZ. If you’ve ever spent any time in western PA or West Virginia you know the culinary institution of which I speak. If you’ve never been, well, you need to get right and experience some MTO stat. It’ll change the way you look at gas station cuisine forever.

Blessed be SHEETZ

After dining (read: gorging), we hit the road again until our second pit stop to buy enough groceries to feed a football team before a big game or, in our case, four jaded bike industry veterans who intended on eating their feelings all weekend. After carefully filling every nook and cranny of Brad’s truck with copious amounts of tubed meats, bubbly water, sauerkraut, and various other edibles (not that kind), it was onto Dollar General for other necessities. It was here that I scored an $8 pair of knock-off Crocs or Croc-offs if you will (kudos to my wife for coining that genius term), which I inevitably spent the entire remainder of the weekend wearing. En route back to the truck we were bathed in the glory that only a shining set of Truck Nutz in their native habitat can bestow.

It's called fashion, look it up.

Eventually, we made it to Dirt Fest. We beat Aaron there so all we could really do was stand around and wait for him to get there seeing as he was driving out with all the stuff. He also had the beer which was unfortunate for us. But, we made do with some bubble waters until he rolled up in Steel Force One aka TaliasVan aka our demo van. Upon his arrival, we made quick work setting up our demo space and the teepee which would serve as our sleeping quarters for the weekend. While we set up, Brad got to work on dinner. He whipped a damn fine chili in his Dutch oven which would’ve sufficed on its own. Brad played a wild card though and blew my fucking mind in the process. When the chili was about 15–20 minutes from being done, he threw in some cornbread batter on top and baked that shit right on top of the chili. The result was definitely something I will be attempting in the future.

As we were setting up, we noticed a whole lotta mud caking bikes and riders alike as people were coming off the trails. The area had received a decent amount of rain in the days leading up to the event and the forecast wasn’t looking good for the weekend.

 A preview of what was to come

We woke on Friday to rain and more mud. After sending the first round of bikes out, we proceeded to kill time the rest of the day filming unbiased and hard-hitting reviews of a new brand of bubbly water we found. It made for a VERY productive day if you ask me. After a dinner of kielbasa and sauerkraut, Aaron and I decided to head down the hill to the official Dirt Fest party and see what we could get into. We certainly got into some shit. I think. All’s I know is I ate some of the best pizza of my life and then got a ride back up the hill in a large blue bus. The rest of the details are a bit hazy. There was also, unfortunately, a reggae band. I think. And it was Maurice’s birthday. I think.

 Inside the blue school bus. I think.

 The Aftermath*

Now seems as good a time as any to talk about the only bit of unpleasantness of the weekend. The only spot we were able to set up our floorless teepee was a large patch of grass behind our demo space. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever taken the time to count the number of spiders in an 18 x 18-foot patch of grass, but I can tell you from experience that you will lose count at a shitload. This was not something we’d thought about when setting up camp and we got lucky on the first night. That second night, our luck took a divebomb straight to hell. I woke in the middle of the night to, I shit you not, a fucking wolf spider just lounging around right on my goddamn face. As if that’s not terrifying enough, one of its shitbird little buddies had the gall to cozy up inside MY FUCKING MOUTH. Needless to say, I was not stoked about either of these developments.

 There's only one way to get the taste of spider out.*

When we woke on Saturday morning, we swapped spider-filled horror stories. It turns out I wasn’t the only one being tormented by the little freaks. There was the distinct sound of rain hitting the teepee, so we knew it was going to be another muddy one. We composed ourselves and faced the day. Due to the rain, we were one of only three brands that were sending demos out that day. Because of this, our fleet was out pretty much the entire day, so we once again set out creating product reviews for the internet. We also took advantage of this lull to finally crack open our economy-sized barrel of cheese balls. As with any event that we show our faces at, our cup overfloweth with cheese balls at Dirt Fest.

 Before.*

 After. Shoutout to our unpaid intern Linus (second from left). He showed up on Saturday to help us out because he's interested in the thrilling life of a demo driver. Despite Aaron's best efforts to scare him off, Linus returned on Sunday. Expect great things from Linus in the future.*

Round about 4pm on Saturday, people began assembling for the start of our group ride which was set to take off at 4:19 sharp. Aaron geared up and led everyone out along with the assistance our local splinter cell of Dereck and Erik. These two, along with another gent by the name of Jody, have a huge role in making our annual Dirt Fest ride a success every year. They plan the route, supply the beer, and, this year, served up some venison and French fries that Dereck had pilfered from his grandparents’ freezer. With Dereck on the grill, we raffled off a small Instigator frame and set of Rabbit Holes to one lucky Dirty Fester.

 4:19 Rollout*

 The birthday boy

 Conditions were... fine.

 "Man, it sure would be cool to win that Instigator." -Green Cup Guy

 "Holy shit I won the Instigator." -Green Cup Guy. Congratulations Green Cup Guy. May your green cup forever runeth over.

As the post-ride party waned a bit, it was soon just Brad, Kate, Aaron and myself remaining around the trash can fire that Brad had lovingly built. But that didn’t stop shit from getting weird. Aaron flipped the switch to turn on the newest addition to Steel Force One: blood red rope lights. With trippy-ass lighting in place, it seemed like a good time to summon the Energy Master TaliasVan. After about twenty minutes of the greatest hits list, Aaron had enough and took off down the hill fueled by anger and a determination to outrun the Energy Master. This was obviously a foolish quest. For you can never outrun the Energy Master. He will always find you. At one point in all this weirdness, Kate tried summoning him the only way we know how: by calling his landline number that’s listed on his website. Alas, when someone answered, Kate hung up, not quite ready to face the Master yet.

 Trash fires are the best fires.

 Proper mood lighting is key for summoning the Energy Master.*

Sunday was yet again rainy and muddy, though it did clear up towards the end of the day. Our bikes were all out for most of the day again but seeing as this was the end of the event, we made use of the time and packed up what we could. All the bikes came back at a reasonable time and we loaded them up. Well, almost all of them. We had one esteemed gentleman who had a bike out well past the respectable demo time, then tried to get out of bringing it to the bike wash, then had his girlfriend stand in line for said bike wash while he walked around the expo area. Take note if you’re ever planning on coming out to a demo event in your life, this is what’s known in the industry as a “dick move” and no brand appreciates it. Don’t be that guy. And if you are that guy, well, I really hope you have an aggressive fart that doesn’t quite go as planned real soon.

On the way back to Pittsburgh, we, of course, stopped at SHEETZ again.

Now, here are some additional photos that didn’t necessarily fit the agenda of this blog post but are still nice.

 The fifth member of our Dirt Fest crew*

 Shoutout to Pit Viper for being the best neighbors anyone could ask for. Well, anyone who isn't an asshole. Here's Aaron sporting his Exciters.*

 Teamwork. Not shown is the massive amount of shitty PA beer including something simply called "Pennsylvania Style" which is far from a style icon if you ask me.*

 Here's Kate in her Pit Vipers daydreaming about cracking open a nice, cold Zima*

 The man, the myth, the anus. This Fester, dubbed by us "Anus Man", won the manual competition that whiskey booth next to us was holding.

Well, that's all. Huge thanks to Brad Quartuccio for helping out and taking photos for us. The images marked with an (*) are his. You can also tell their his because they weren't shot with a phone. If reading all this made you think "aw shucks, I wish I could go to Dirt Fest," fear not. The crew at Dirt Rag added a second Fest in West Virginia. It takes place July 13–15 and we'll once again be in attendance. You can find the deets here.

I had every intention of ending this blog with a song of Yob’s new record but then just as I was about to hit go, Carl Skildum unleashed the first Inexorum track unto the world. So here that is.

You should still definitely listen to the new Yob record because Yob is love.

Remember a few months back when I said the dump would be back with some regularity? Well, my overly-ambitious dumb ass kept that promise for a whole two weeks before it totally fell off my radar. For that, I apologize. In addition to me having the attention span of a goddamn goldfish, we also had some back-end issues with the dump and it was inaccessible for a while. So, I guess it wasn’t all my fault. Though, let’s face it, it was probably mostly my fault.

Everything seems to be working on the back end again so I’m going to try and be better about posting dumps from now on. It won’t be weekly, or even biweekly. Let’s say that dumps will be posted with a semi-regular occassionalness. Cool?

Anyway, to get things started (again), I thought this week would be a good time to pay homage to everyone’s favorite steel road bike: the Pacer. If you haven’t heard, the Pacer has officially been discontinued. That being said, we still have a few complete bikes available in select sizes so if you’d like to own a piece of Surly history, get on down to your local bicycle procurement establishment and order one up at a nice price. When they’re gone, they’re gone for good.

And with that, behold the Pacer in all its fleeting glory.

 Belgium

 Fort Worth, TX

 Louisiana

 Colli di San Fermo, Italy

 Spain

 Toronto

 Australia

 Jyväskylä, Finland

 Bekasi, Indonesia

 Mexico

 Thailand

 Somewhere in Bulgaria en route to finishing TCR no 5

 Osaka, Japan

As you can see, the Pacer has been on one hell of a world tour throughout its life. We sure will miss it but we know that its memory lives on in all those that were fortunate enough to throw a leg over one.

The cool part about posting two blogs in a week is that I still get to share my favorite song off the new Yob record with you. So here that is. It's a beautiful piece of music.

Wasn't that nice? Those little puddles of liquid pooling beneath your eyes are called emotions and it's ok to have those sometimes.

It was hot. Stiflingly hot in the direct sun with nary a whisper from the wind. I was missing the coolness of the high meadows from where we’d just descended. I longed for the crisp sea breeze that had ushered us from Swanage that morning. As I took a sip of my cold pilsner it happened. Without even processing I thought: “These extended stops really aren’t helping our overall pace.” It was at that moment I knew I was in trouble.

Only three days prior I’d met Lionel on a sidewalk in Manchester. Come to think of it, I hadn’t been looking for him. Not looking for anyone really. But it was nice to see him in a lovely city so far from home. We didn’t chat long. I was off to share beers with Rich and Shona from Keep Pedaling and Chipps from Singletrack Mag.

Prior to Keep Pedaling we’d traveled to visit Ghyllside Cycles in Ambleside. From Manchester we worked our way to the south coast. We made a few stops visiting dealers like Brixton Cycles in London, Neil’s Wheels in Kingston, and Bike U Like in Southsea. Sadly, we had very little time to stop and smell the roses. Or ride bikes. One diversion did work out. In Lyndhurst we saddled up for a spin among the wild ponies in the New Forest.

It was a good leg stretcher that reminded us we had many more hilly miles to come over the weekend. Guided by Tom from The Woods Cyclery we explored the enchanted forest.

Further contributing to the mystical portent of our journey to the Gravel Dash was a ferry crossing just outside of Bournemouth. I’ve long suspected an Audi might lead the way to the gates of Hades. But I digress …

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You deserve a little of the backstory.

Two years ago, I took part in the Dorset Gravel Dash hosted by Charlie the Bikemonger. I wrote about that experience last year in a blog entitled “Things to Do In Dorset When You’re Dead.” Yeah, that blog was one year late. And sorry to inform you but I didn’t die. Which is fortunate because that meant I got to do it again this year.

Before I get all philosophical, I’ll state without reservation that this is one of those events that is not to be missed. Should the stars align, you should go. No questions asked. Do it.

Accompanying me on this trip was Trevor. You know, from Wherever. Many years ago, we wrought havoc in Hokkaido on behalf of Surly. It had been too long since I’d had the opportunity to travel abroad with him. Good company never hurts when you’re far from home. Plus, Trevor is resourceful. The type of person who can turn lemons into whiskey sours should things go sideways. I ran into him completely by chance many years ago at the Narita airport in Tokyo. Turns out we were on the same flight back to Surlyville. That’s a long, non-stop flight. It was on that journey that we discovered it is possible to drink a galley dry on a Boeing 747. Suffice it to say that I felt assured we were up for anything.

Our arrival in Swanage was met with modest fanfare. Immediately upon pulling into the parking lot (or ‘car park’ for my UK readers) we were greeted by many familiar faces. These included two fellow Colonists, Chewey and Pat. The Bikemonger decided that quarantining the Americans in one group was better for all involved.

We caroused and supped and packed gear into the wee hours. Thunderstorms overnight gave way to a cloudy start but dry weather nonetheless. Our group saddled up to embrace the day.

I didn’t notice when I took this photo that Chewey was on a singlespeed. It wasn’t until I was walking the first long climb beside him that I spied his drivetrain. “Holy hell, man!” I exclaimed, “You brought a singlespeed?” Chewey flatly replied, “I don’t own a geared bike.” I guess that’s true. Chewey has always served to remind me that a singlespeed is never the wrong choice. Bravo for him.

I was not on a singlespeed. Two years ago, I rode the Dash on a Straggler 650b. It was not a bad choice by any means. I wanted to change things up to a flat bar configuration that offered a little more rubber contacting the road. I brought along a new Bridge Club which I was eager to put through the paces in Dorset. The 2.8” tires I installed were overkill I guess, but I had learned on my previous trip that part of the challenge of this course is mitigating the effects of constantly changing surface conditions. We encountered pavement, mud, gravel, standing water, singletrack, cobbles, sand, rocks, and roots.

The ultimate measure of any bike I’m riding is whether or not I have to think about it. The right bike becomes an extension of my body freeing up my headspace to enjoy the experience. Bridge Club provided exactly that. It’s a great choice for a course like the Gravel Dash where you can’t predict the conditions.

We descended from a ridgeline with magnificent views into Corfe Castle. Leading up to the event Charlie the Bikemonger had availed participants of countless tips and a couple of rules. The first and most important rule – “It’s not a bloody race! Don’t be a dick.” One of his tips was to eat and drink something every 20 minutes. Keeping true to that advice the entire Gravel Dash mob had descended upon a tiny bakery outside the castle.

These three rashers in a bap cost me £2. It was quite possibly the smartest two quid I spent on the trip.

In fact, I finished the second half of that bap while stopped for gin and tonic that our guide Jon had cleverly planned and packed. An ocean view, a cool breeze, and a G&T. Life was good. After a ripping descent and some more rolling miles it wasn’t long before we pulled into the Sailor’s Return. Otherwise known as official pub stop Number One on the Dash route.

That was precisely where my critical thought set in. Yes, these stops weren’t helping us make time. That’s exactly why I knew I was in trouble. The point was not to make time at all. It was a beautiful day even if it was bloody hot. We could very well have been riding in the thunderstorms that had woken us that morning. I did my best to put the thoughts aside.

One thing may be said for the Gravel Dash. All of those ups and downs aren’t for naught. Here’s Trevor soaking in the glory of a clear day in the countryside.

At a river crossing, our group stopped to chat with the support crew and eat cookies they were handing out. Jon, our merry guide, facing the camera on the left is standing with Gil and Jason on the right. What Jon lacked in distance estimation he made up in wit and a bountiful knowledge of local history. Oh, and he was smart enough to pack whiskey.

Do you ever ponder what group dynamics can mean on a long, challenging ride? They can sink the experience post-haste. Or they can bind the group together in an all-or-none sense of unity. I’ve seen both scenarios play out in groups of people who have ridden together for years.

The first time I rode the Dash I pedaled with folks whom I’d never met. This time many in our group were acquaintances but we hadn’t ridden together at all. Both times I’ve marveled at how supportive everyone was. Despite flat tires, mechanicals, and lingering long at rest stops, the group stayed together. Not once did anyone even hint at splitting the group.

Is it the event that fosters this? Or is it the people attracted to come ride the event? I believe it’s both. One thing is for sure, it’s nothing short of magical.

Still, the miles wore on. We were approaching the shadows of evening by the time we made it to the final pub stop, The Fox Inn. The horizon was darkened with storm clouds. We made the call to take a shuttle the final seven miles to camp.

We weren’t quite the last to roll into the field. A huge teepee was staked out next to the cooking and bar tents. Shelters of all kinds were scattered everywhere. I had opted to pack a tarp for the trip.

Perhaps my memory of two years’ prior was simply blocked out. After all, this was a farm field devoid of trees. I had to get a little creative in my pitch. With the help of a fencepost, some logs from the wood pile, and my handlebars all was secured. I knew that rain was almost certainly coming so I didn’t mind the low height to ensure dryness.

However, I hadn’t accounted for robust nettles and stumpy little thorn bushes. A few cardboard beer cartons from the bar tent improvised a protective floor for my shelter. After some live music, the cheese judging, and a few more pints I was done. I wandered back to my camp, performed some final tensioning on guy lines, then crawled under for a sound sleep.

I awoke around 6:30 to the noise of wind and sound of thunder. The morning was cool. The wind through my open shelter made it just cozy enough to pull my bag around my shoulders for warmth. The clouds opened, and it dumped rain. I dozed in an out lulled by the patter of drops on my tarp. I was happy not to be among those seeking an early departure.

Eventually the rain stopped. Our group emerged from various parts of the field where they’d slept. We conjured a plan to piece together our own route for day two. One that included a few more pubs.

After a short stop at the World’s End near Blandford we rolled into Wareham. Chewey and I made a beer run while the rest of the group ordered lunch from a chip shop.

Here we lingered a good long while. Again, not really making any time. Rather, we were thoroughly enjoying the time we had. Jon informed us that the next town over, Purbeck, had a cracking pub called the King’s Arms. It just so happened that the cider festival was in full swing. With Swanage not farther than another 10 miles down the road we settled in to sample some local delicacies.

The Gravel Dash begins and ends at The Red Lion, a most respectable pub. The back lot is like an extended patio populated with Dash riders and patrons. Oh, and pirates. You see, the annual Swanage Pirate Festival was also in full swing. Charlie the Bikemonger, here aided by Jerome the Cheesemonger, distributed loot to the Dash riders.

Yards of grog were drunk. (And spilled.) Here was our UK rep, Duncan, tackling the towering tankard. Our guide, Jon, downed one in 24 seconds flat. Only a minute faster than your humble author. Oh, the pirate life.

Monday morning’s alarm clock was set by the pigeons congregating on the ledge of our hotel room window. The day brought blinding sun over the bay. However, it was a bank holiday in the UK so the beach was hopping.

No time for a dip, however. We were staring down our final hours in Swanage. Difficult decisions needed to be made. Like which cider to have with lunch?

And what for lunch? The Red Lion serves up a mean tuna jacket. Try ordering that at your local Perkins.

We settled our tab and paid for our room. Thus began the process of saying our goodbyes. There was also a tremendous amount of gratitude heaped on these folks for pulling off another successful Gravel Dash. I simply have to say there’s no other cycling event like it. Not that I’ve attended anyway. Try as I might I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe that’s what keeps people coming back. I’ll keep pondering this. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be fortunate enough to make it back again soon.

The je ne sais quoi of the Gravel Dash may elude me. But one debate has been settled. Those pub stops did help after all.