01
Sep
My Year on a Single Speed: The Thousand Mile Journey
By Scotty Mac
Origin
The plan going into the off-season between 2012 and 2013 was to regain my love of cycling. My enthusiasm for the sport had waned over the last couple years to the point where I faced a crossroads: find that love and get stoked on riding again, or let my malaise take me completely and start seriously considering a different hobby. I chalked up my down year to a number of factors, but one that was becoming more and more apparent was the one I most had to change; I had a lack of mental and physical toughness that kept me from really enjoying my time on two wheels. I would have to solve this problem with the tools I had readily available, and the most important one was my 2011 Kona Unit single speed. I resolved to spend the winter training indoors with the rest of the Ascent Cycling crew, and the spring and summer riding outdoors predominantly on one gear. It would be the first time I had willingly given up gears for the majority of my trail days.
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| The Kona…The Steed |
Bike
I purchased the Kona in September of 2011. I was at Ascent Cycling one day and it caught my eye: matte white, with matte black lettering. Instantly, I was thinking about how I would customize it, and knew I had to have it. I purchased it a week later. It’s a steel frame, and initially it had a rigid, steel fork, mechanical disc brakes, and factory-brand cockpit. I rode it a couple of times that year, and a couple more times in 2012, but that was about it. It was more of a curio for me than a serious steed. However, the trivial nature of the Unit didn’t stop me from setting to the task of upgrading every last component as I found the time and money. I swapped out entry-level bits for offerings from Fox Racing Shox, SRAM, Race Face, Chris King, and Stan’s Notubes. By early January 2013, it was finished.
Ride
There’re a lot of evocative traits in the Unit, calling to mind an earlier time in mountain bike history. Because it’s a steel frame, you get that old-school, lively-yet-compliant feel under power and through the rough stuff, but the ride will certainly never be described as “forgiving” or “plush.” That said, it’s a much nicer proposition to spend great chunks of time in the saddle than an aluminum equivalent, as proved by my five+ hours at the Gunnison Original Half-Growler race earlier this year. It’s not a particularly race-oriented frame, you get the feeling you’re on a trail bike, a trait I enhanced with wider-than-XC bars and a mid-length (75mm) stem. I picked parts on the bike that would give me confidence on the descents and still provide a platform to put the hammer down on the climbs. There were some growing pains in my build, most notably in gearing choice and tire selection. Once I swapped my first picks in each category for a slightly easier gear and knobbier tire, it was game-on.
Suffering
In the end, riding a single speed comes down to a battle between you and the hill- up, across, and down. You fight the gear on the climb, legs barely turning over, you run out of that same gear on the flats and descents, legs spinning up in a vain attempt to maintain a semblance of momentum. I’ve learned something about mountain bike riding on every ride I’ve done on the Kona, things I haven’t noticed or perhaps cared about when I ride gears. I’m stronger than I thought I could be as a climber, and I look for every opportunity to build momentum and coast on the descents. Putting together a couple good corners makes me happier than it really should because I don’t have to put the power down to get back up to speed. I’ve learned how to play mind games with myself on climbs so I can put the pain coursing through my legs on the backburner. I value every moment I can rest, even if it’s just the barest dip in the trail. Every climb I clear gives me pride, every climb I don’t clear gives me resolve to go harder on the next.
Forward
We Front Range, CO riders are fortunate in that we still have a couple months of prime riding yet to go. When it’s all said and done, my final mileage tally for the season on the Kona will be somewhere north of 1,000. That’s not a world-beating number, but I can safely say it’s the most I’ve put down on one bike in a calendar year. The knowledge and toughness I’ve gained as a rider made every tortured pedal stroke I took on every climb of every ride seem like a paltry payment for priceless treasure. A return to primarily riding gears in the coming years is imminent, but the Unit remains a trusted riding partner. It is always on hand to remind me that sometimes going at a problem the hard way is the only means to a lasting solution.
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| Victory! |
Mac out.