BMX Basics

"The things we own," I have read, "will eventually own us." It's a trite saying, perhaps, but I had cause to ponder the truth of it as I began preparations last week to, as the English say, "move house". In this case, the house itself is not moving, but it might be easier to move the whole house than it will be to pull everything out of it, place it in storage, and pull it out a year or so from now when the next Casa Boswell is completed. Look at all this junk! Over a thousand books and perhaps two thousand magazines. Furniture which will never again see the light of above-basement storage. At least one representative example of every Atari video game and computer made from 1977 to 1991. Thirty obsolete Ethernet cards stacked in a transparent plastic tub. Unflown kites. A box which appears to contain nothing but automotive brochures collected during the 1997 and 1998 Detroit Auto Shows. And bikes... so many bikes that, during Casa Boswell's open house this past Sunday, every single visitor asked our realtor, in nearly exactly the same words, "Just how many bikes does this guy have?" Too many, apparently.

Those readers who know me well understand that I have no intention of ever throwing anything out, but couldn't I find a way to, well, compress what I have? Do I need five Atari 2600s when, perhaps, three would do? Three, you say? It has to be at least three... the Heavy Sixer, the early Tele-Games, and the wood-finish VCS. But I really should keep the black-finish 2600 as well. And it would be pure folly to pitch the light six-switch VCS. So I guess I need all five. But surely I don't need two "Risk" board games, do I? Well, the older one has the army counter pieces I prefer, but lacks a full dice set. So I had better hold on to both of them. The Eighties Redlines? Don't be silly. As a chronic nostalgia sufferer, I cannot even consider letting one go. If there are to be any deletions from the Boswell catalogue, they must be made in what is known as the "modern era". Maybe, just maybe, I don't need two modern 20" bikes?

After all, just twenty-two months ago I didn't have any modern 20" bikes; I rode a Redline PL-24 and a Haro Backtrail x24. And then the twenty-inch bug bit, and bit hard. The Backtrail found its way onto eBay; the Redline joined the line of hanging bikes which so confuses potential Casa Boswell residents. In their place, I operated a brace of twenties, MOSH Bagley and Method Four Stars, which lasted about a year before yielding to the current stable of Supercross Dirt Devil and (as yet undelivered) UL. Based on my initial impressions of (and, to be honest, enchantment with) my Dirt Devil, I expect to keep these two a while.

None of the riders I know blink when I tell them I have two bikes, because most of them have two bikes as well - usually a polished-up alumino-scoot for racing and a flat-black, banged-up, stickerless garage-brand for everything else. As Tom Jones might say, it's not unusual to have two bikes... but is it necessary? Is owning a "race" bike and a "park" bike simply mindless swallowing of the color mag advertising pablum, or is it the Way Of The Future(tm)?

When I began racing, back when dinosaurs ruled the earth, people ran "Moto-Control" plates, and the guys in Aerosmith were still alive, I didn't know anybody who had two bikes. We each had one bike. That was our racing bike, our "trails" bike, our "vert" bike, and our "ride to the store" bike. Those were the days of seatposts that bent, wheels that went out of true when you rode over a speed bump, and unsealed bearing assemblies which required near-constant and devoted maintenance. Everybody I knew spent a few minutes at the beginning of each ride tightening up the stuff you just knew would loosen up on you in the hours to come, and a few minutes at the end of each ride fixing and readjusting what had come loose anyway despite one's careful pre-ride preparation. We also had the phenomenon of the "Friday Break" to deal with. If something on your bike broke Monday through Thursday, you had some time to bum a ride to the bike shop, make a mail order phone call, or walk to a friend's house five miles distant to borrow a part... but if your bike broke Friday night while you were riding off loading docks, you were going to miss Saturday's race for sure, and possibly Sunday's as well.

Today everyone rides their "street" bike all week before hopping on their "race" bike ten minutes before Moto 1. This is both good and bad. It's good in the sense that your race bike is unlikely to break just sitting in the basement, unless you have a) a GT Box Series and b) large mice, rats, or spiders which might hop up onto the seat while you are out riding your street bike. It's bad because you never really achieve the perfect mental union with your race bike that you could achieve if you rode it every day. It's also bad because you have to pay for, repair, and maintain two bikes. When you are thirty years old and work a "real" job, it's not that tough; when you are fifteen and earning minimum wage it becomes a much more difficult proposition.

The question, then, is: Is it possible to build a durable bike which is tough enough for everyday use while remaining competitive on the weekends? Let's examine the areas in which trail and race bikes differ and see if we can't find a compromise. Before we do, a word of caution. If you ride flatland or do all sorts of grinding/sprocket bashing stuff, you are not going to be able to reconcile the demands of a race bike with those activities. We're talking here about a guy who races and also rides trails, hits box jumps, and/or does a little vert riding. So, let the laborious examination of bicycle parts begin!

• Frame: I suppose that, in theory, you could trail-jump an aluminum bike. I know people who have done it. In practice, you are better-off and safer choosing a medium-duty Cr-Mo frame - a task made much easier lately by the dirt-jumpa guys' renewed focus on saving weight. A six-pound Cr-Mo frame would not make a major difference in a race, since many of the gusseted ally frames out there are now over five pounds. There are plenty of tough, reliable six-pound frames out there - from the MOSH Method to the Supercross Devo to the Terrible One Barcode 21". Oh, I can see you now, throwing up your hands in frustration, saying, "Boswell, you ponderously pear-shaped Pro, everyone knows the Barcode isn't a racing frame!" Oh yeah? Says who? If you look at the geometry on most of these dirt frames, they are quite similar to race frames. S&M's RV, TV, and Holmes all share the same basic geometry, using different tubing shapes and thickness. If you can stand the extra pound or so, there's nothing to stop you from racing a Barcode, S&M TV, or similar bike. Except...
• Brakes: I despise U-brakes, and for good reason: They are heavier, more complex, more difficult to adjust, and generally less effective than V-brakes. Given the right rims, though, a set of U-brakes such as Odyssey's Evolver can be quite effective, and you can't deny that the chainstay mounting of many of these brakes protects them from damage (and from damaging you) much better than the typical V-brake mount.
• Handlebars: Narrow bars are all the rage today, even within racing, but there is a point where too narrow is just too narrow to make good power. For most people, 25" is the limit; smaller riders might be able to cut down to 23" and still have a raceable bike. Where possible, err on the side of width, as a bike with wider bars will be more stable during contact with other riders.
• Cranks: I'm currently running Profile "DJ" cranks, which combine the beefy SS arms with a lighter spindle... and you could always go to a titanium spindle to save more weight. Almost any tubular Cr-Mo three-piece crank is fine for a race/trail bike... but avoid the aluminum cranks if at all possible.
• Wheels: Here's where you kind of have to declare your primary allegiance, as it were. Despite the recent fad in dirt jumping to run thick-walled 36-spoke wheels, nothing beats a solid set of 48s for durability. The problem is that the rotating mass of those 48s makes a discernible difference in the way the bike rides. It's certainly possible to win races with 48s - I have raced a couple local events with a 36-pound bike and 48s and done okay - but you will notice a difference. One way out of this problem would be to spend a little more money, purchasing a set of lightweight 36-spokers for race day and using heavier-duty wheels the rest of the week.
• Gearing: The cool kids run 14-tooth freewheels or cassette sprockets; to obtain the traditional 44/16 race gearing you'll need a 39-tooth chainwheel to turn that 14. I run 40/14 on my dirt bike to build a little leg muscle.
• Tires: You can be injured rather annoyingly running park tires at a dusty track, something I learned to my own cost earlier this year. A compromise tread like the Primo Dirt Monster will fit the bill; pump it up for skateparks and take the pressure back out for slippery tracks.

Using the guidelines above, we can build a very durable bike in the 26 to 28 pound range, which puts us perhaps two or three pounds down on the SR-71/Box Series people, and we can build the whole bike, even with the extra set of wheels, for no more than a top-flight race-only ride. It won't stand up to one of those "Road Fools" thirty-foot frame grinds to a peg bonk, but it *will* hold up for everyday riding and weekend racing. And if you want to spend a lot of money, you can spend it on the wheels; perhaps a set of Chris King 36-spokers for the weekends and a pair of Atomlab Trailpimp 48s for the daily trail runs. In the end, you will have a satisfying machine that you can really bond with.

We're still talking about serious money, however, and not everyone can spec-up a fully loaded trail/race machine. Luckily for you, there are a variety of opportunities in both the used and complete bike markets. A used trail bike can be spruced up with some light wheels and a different gear ratio. In the complete bike world, the MOSH Method, Haro TR series, Redline Signature bikes, and the now-departed GT Power Series all represent good starting points for all-rounder rides, in some cases for under three hundred bucks. You could even pick up something like a Backtrail or Bagley, set the gear ratio correctly, take off the Gyro, and race it, at least up to the Novice class.

If I had to look into my crystal ball, I'd say that the sport will return sooner or later to the idea of the all-purpose bike as racers continue to hit trails and as freestyle riders continue to be intrigued by the idea of going racing. It's too sensible and useful an idea to stay buried too long.

Which only leaves me with my choice to make. Will I hold my breath and go for a single-bike solution? Well... nope. Truth be told, both of my 20" scoots have a little dual-purpose in them, with Cr-Mo frames, heavy-duty cranks, and narrow bars. Plus, when you're my age sometimes owning the bikes is half of the pleasure; after all, riding time can be in short supply. I think I'll stick with my two-bike strategy. In fact, maybe I could refine the all-purpose bike idea a bit and come up with "light trails" and "heavy racing" bike specs as well, to bridge the gap... and then I could really use a full-on, four-pegger ramp bike, and a flatlander so I could work on my lawnmowers again, and I could do all these ideas in cruisers, as well... How many bikes is too many bikes? I'll let you know when I find out.