All photos by @niclaskrake.
Category: Bikepacking
Except on the most rugged of trails or in Wilderness areas where mechanized transport is not allowed, a bicycle is the ideal vehicle to transport you and your gear to your favorite fishing locations, especially if you’d rather escape from the crowds! The hassle of finding a suitable place to park a truck on narrow, rugged roads allows the pedal-powered angler to access spots that motorized fisherfolk often overlook. They’re too busy looking for a turnout big enough for their massive pickup! Many streams have singletrack trails running alongside and there are countless lakes and ponds accessible only by bike or on foot. If you prefer solitude to fishing conditions resembling the lunch line at Burger King, bikefishing is for you.
For me, fishing and bike riding have always gone hand-in-hand. In fact, I was first motivated to pick up a fly rod by an experience I had on a bikepacking trip soon after moving to the Gem State. I was pedaling my loaded bike on a backcountry dirt road paralleling one of central Idaho’s sparkling freestone streams. Trout were easy to spy as I gazed down from road level into the riffles below. Why wasn’t I down there in that beautiful river catching those fish!? Since then, I’ve spent countless hours searching for fish in big rivers, small streams, alpine lakes and urban reservoirs by bicycle, on foot and occasionally with the aid of motor vehicles. In this post, I’ll share some helpful tips from my experience to help you get out and fish by bicycle! Feel free to chime in with your own thoughts and experiences in the comments below.
1: Do your Homework!
Plan ahead and prepare! The amount of local knowledge and useful information accessible via the internet is a potent weapon in your arsenal. Check fishing and weather reports so you can choose appropriate tackle, clothing and other gear, then leave the rest at home. The USGS monitors water conditions for countless fisheries across the country. Water temperature, level and flow are all useful pieces of information. Local fish and game departments provide a wealth of information about fish stocking and species to expect in a particular piece of water. Many fishing shops and outfitters post regularly-updated fishing reports online. Stop into a local outfitter or fishing shop if you’re traveling far afield. Good research and local knowledge may make the difference between catching one fish after another or getting skunked.
2: Don’t Throw a Rod!
Fishing rods can be challenging items to carry by bike, even when broken down and stored in a tube. Bags with a flap – like Ostrich’s S-2 Saddlebag or Frost River’s Gunflint Trail (see photo above) and Caribou Trail work great. Alternatively, you can use toestraps or Surly’s Junk Straps to lash the tube to the deck of a rack. I would never recommend riding your bike with a fully-assembled rod. You’re just begging for a potentially expensive accident. It is also easy to strap a rod tube to many backpacks. This carrying method works great if you’ll need to do a good deal of walking, hiking or scrambling to access your fishing location. Otherwise, I prefer to ditch the backpack and let the bike carry the load.
3: Streamline your Setup!
Do you really need multiple rods, reels, lines, a vest packed with gadgets and fly boxes with every imaginable imitation to catch fish? Simplify, simplify. You can’t just chuck your entire collection of outdoor gear in the back of the Subaru! Space and weight are key considerations when fishing by bike. While unnecessary gear will weigh you down and clutter your experience, you don’t want to leave critical equipment at home. Tenkara rods may offer the ultimate in a simple fishing outfit. With no reel and a featherweight telescopic rod that collapses into its 20″ handle, these fishing outfits are ideal equipment for the adventurous angler.
4: Wade Wisely (or not at all)!
Waders and wading boots are the bulkiest, heaviest and most cumbersome pieces of gear in most anglers’ closets. Leave them at home unless you really need them. Fishing from the bank is a great option and may even be preferable. The long reach afforded by Tenkara rods is a big advantage in this situation. If you choose to wade in warm conditions, wet wading can be a real joy and big part of the fun. Sturdy sandals, Crocs or water shoes work fine for footwear. Even on the hottest days, neoprene socks or booties help you fish longer by keeping your feet warm and preventing irritating debris from getting next to your skin. When the mercury dips, you’ll definitely want to stay dry. Fish from the banks, wear rubber boots or consider bringing those waders along. Wear heat-retaining layers to stay warm in the chilly water. You don’t have a heated vehicle to retreat to if you get chilled, so don’t forget to layer up and bring spare dry, insulating layers in case you take an unexpected dunking!
5: Use a Shuttle (When Appropriate)!
While pedaling from home on a bike loaded with everything you need for a day, week or month of human-powered travel and fishing adventure sounds like a great idea, it isn’t always practical or possible. If you have access to a vehicle, take advantage! Drive out with your bike and gear, find a place to park or camp and strike out on the bike from there. Though perhaps not as idealistically appealing, this approach can deliver the best of both worlds. Who doesn’t like to return to a well-appointed campsite with a dry change of clothes, fully-stocked cooler and comfortable chair after a long day on the river? If the fishing – not the riding – is your main focus this may be the ideal approach.
6: Be Flexible!
Fishing is unpredictable, so don’t get disappointed if you don’t find immediate success. Like the old bumper sticker says, “a bad day of fishing is still better than a good day at work!” Approach each situation with an open mind and don’t be afraid to try new, different or unorthodox techniques. The bike also gives you practically unlimited access to water far off the beaten track, so explore those side streams, tributaries and hidden pools. Small fish often represent big success!
I hope you’ll find these tips helpful and get out on your bike for a day of fishing soon! Did I forget anything? Share your #bikefishing ideas and experiences in the comments section below. Thanks for reading! Now get away from that screen and #getoutandfish!
In our overpopulated world, there are few places where humans rarely venture. For better or worse, our species has learned how to make a living in just about every environment on Earth and has left only a precious handful of habitats unmolested. Even in the most remote corner of Idaho – a state with more protected Wilderness than any in the lower 48 – evidence of human history is everywhere. However, just because humans have been everywhere on our planet doesn’t mean they’re still around. Some environments are not welcoming to our fragile and demanding bodies. Despite the challenges of survival in hostile and difficult conditions, wild and unpopulated places call out to us. The allure of traveling where few people have ever gone – places where evidence of human activity is nearly invisible – is a powerful draw. This allure makes Wilderness travel undeniably attractive to a certain breed of people who are capable of cutting the cord and tuning in to a more basic way of living. Five such adventurous souls recently struck out into the vast Wilderness surrounding the South Fork of the Owyhee River for three days of pedal-powered reconnaissance. This is the story of that journey.
The group convened at the BLM headquarters in Boise to finalize a route and load gear for the 3-hour drive to our drop-off point east of the Duck Valley Indian Reservation, just north of the Nevada border. After the long drive riding three-abreast in the pickup, we were happy to stretch our legs and breathe the sage-perfumed air while we unloaded bikes.
We set off to the west just after 11am, pedaling through Horse Basin toward the Wilderness Boundary. The miles passed with relative ease on the well packed two-track under sunny skies and with scarcely a hint of wind. We ground our way up a gradual climb to the plateau and turned to the south in order to survey a longer section of wilderness boundary.
This section of doubletrack was among the smoothest any of our group had ridden in the entire region and a slight tailwind began to push us northward. The sea of sage was interrupted by two water tanks and windmills; aging remnants of ranch infrastructure. Each one sat in a grassy circle cleared of sage and featured abandoned eagle nests tucked into the ladder handles of the water tank. A draft of cool air blew up from the dry well near one of the tanks. A rock dropped down the tube never found water.
As we turned to the west along the boundary line, we came to a rock outcropping and saw the land fall away ahead of us. From here, we descended into Wilderness along the Coyote Hole Cherrystem to the bank of the South Fork where we would make our first camp. The road dropped gradually at first but became steeper as we neared the canyon rim.
A badger scuttled off the road as we approached, making off into the underbrush. With sheer rock walls on both sides, we followed the loose, rutted track down its final plunge to river level, finding the ruins of a stone house, livestock pen and even some rusting farming implements.
The prospect of scratching a living out of the side of this remote stream seemed pretty daunting, but compared with the barren plains above this was a paradise of plenty. Springs bubbled out of the rocks above, delivering sweet water to wet our whistles.
A brief exploration also revealed a river teeming with fish, which turned out to be Northern Pikeminnows. This provided an ideal opportunity to test the borrowed Tenkara outfit the Bike Hermit packed along. Thanks for the loan, Don! This was the first time fishing with Tenkara for me and the Bike Hermit, so look forward to more about that experience in a future post.
We awoke to temperatures barely above freezing and crawled from the warmth of our shelters to make our breakfast and coffee. I noticed the tracks of what appeared to be a mountain lion just on the edge of our camp, along a path we had trod the evening before to access the river. Did we have a visitor in the night? I can’t say for sure, but it certainly appeared that the big cat had stalked through the bush less than 15 yards from where we slept.
It seemed nobody was in a big hurry to tackle the climb back out of the river canyon. The first pitches were definitely unrideable on our loaded bikes and even the more forgiving sections tested our legs and determination. However, the exertions allowed us to quickly shake off the morning’s chill and we found ourselves back on the high plateau. We made good time northbound along the boundary line, headed for the river ford near the 45 Ranch.
Once atop a small rise, we were greeted with a stunning panorama of the massive gash in the earth containing the South Fork. It was clear that the descent to the 45 Ranch was going to be a wild ride, so we strapped our gear down tight and dropped in. The well-traveled road was delightfully smooth in some spots and terrifyingly rough in others. The switchbacking grade led us down to the homestead of the 45 Ranch, a privately-owned ranch in partnership with the BLM and the Nature Conservancy. We passed by the ranch on the way to the boat launch where we would ford the South Fork. 
We paused at the river ford to partake of some victuals and prepare ourselves for the uneven footing and swift water. Group members crossed the river using varying tactics. Some – like Wendell – carried their bikes above the knee deep water…
Some – like Sky – pushed their bike along the bottom. I wonder who does her maintenance…
After crossing the river, we left ranch property and returned to the Wilderness along the Little Owyhee Cherrystem. We started out on a flat, rocky double-track between steep rock walls. However, when traveling through the Canyonlands, what comes down must always go up.
Our mild and scenic road soon turned steep and nasty. This climb out of the river canyon would be the most trying of the trip. The combination of intense midday sun, steep grades, deep ruts, off-camber tread, loose dirt and rolling rocks made this climb mentally and physically challenging. The left-hand track was reasonably smooth and appeared rideable but the loose soil and steep camber caused wheels to slip into the rut at the slightest shift of weight. Most of us were forced to push our bikes nearly all the way up from the valley floor.
The climb ground upward and topped out just uphill from a wide-open barbed wire gate. One downside to riding in the Canyonlands is that climbs are rarely rewarded with descents as they would be in the mountains. Instead, we were taunted by steep rollers and an increasing headwind as we headed south, keeping the Wilderness boundary on our left.
This section is among the least-visited in the entire Owyhee Canyonlands Wilderness. Our track showed little evidence of human travel within the past several months, if not longer. Animal scat, burrows, anthills and sagebrush abounded. Jackrabbits, coyotes and birds of prey appeared the be the only main road users. We investigated the heads of the Walcot and South Fork Cherrystems, neither of which had seen traffic in quite some time.
After 14 “desert miles” riding through the wide open ocean of dust and sage along the boundary line, we crossed through a gate. Somewhere past the gate we crossed the unmarked state boundary and into Nevada. South of the fence, evidence of heavy horse use was everywhere. Hoofprint potholes and heaping piles of “road apples” littered the double track and made for rough going. The stiff headwind made life even more difficult. We were feeling the effects of the tough climbs and long miles as we sought shelter and water for our evening’s camp. Shadows were already growing long in the road, obscuring rocks and holes in the right-hand track. Evidence of the fragility of life in the desert was all around.
After cresting a small rise, we sighted a group of the horses responsible for the hoofprints and manure piles. They became aware of our presence and pricked their ears in our direction. However, they weren’t about to let us get very close.
They turned tail and headed east, raising a mighty cloud of dust as they went.
We encountered another group as we picked up the Paiute Pipeline road. They’re just visible on the horizon in the photo below. Despite their skittishness, we were in their territory and this wouldn’t be the last we’d hear of the horses. We pedaled on, feeling battered by the rough road, headwind and long miles. We were quite ready to reach our riverside camp and put our bikes to bed.
Yet again, we braved a steep, rocky and loose descent into the river plain. From our high point on the plateau, we looked out across the valley to see the Pipeline road continue across the basin and climb straight up the opposite wall far in the distance. Evidence of horse mortality presented an ominous sign as we focused on making camp and put the next morning’s challenges out of our minds.
With a sigh of relief we reached the second river ford of our trip. Again, group members took varying approaches. Wendell opted to stay on the south bank and make his camp above river level. The rest of the crew elected to make the river crossing now rather than brave the chilly water in the morning. In our depleted and mentally deficient state, pitching our camp in the middle of the road didn’t sound like such a bad idea. We prepared our respective meals and turned into our shelters under a clear, starry sky. The crystalline starscape is one of the biggest rewards for traveling in this tough and forbidding landscape. Situated in the middle of one of the largest unpopulated areas anywhere in the United States, light pollution is practically non-existent. I lay in my bivy sack for quite some time, watching shooting stars and soaking in the view of the Milky Way as I dozed off.
On the morning of the third day, the discussion centered around the question, “did you hear those horses last night?!” At least one of the bands had descended from the plain above to river level for their evening drink, coming nearly right through our camp. The thunder of their hooves pounding down the rocky slope shook the ground and woke us from our slumber. The horses retreated when Wendell poked his headlamp out of his tent but continued to snort and stomp along the canyon rim. Despite our fascination with the equine residents, it was time for us to leave this place. We were due at the rally point at 11am to meet Evan and head back to civilization. That meant another grind up from river level, which started right off the bat.
This short but brutally steep stretch of Pipeline Road was littered with loose, round rocks that rolled like billiard balls at the slightest touch. Even on an unloaded fatbike, I’m not sure if it could be climbed. We had a difficult enough time walking up the cruel grade but were pleased that it didn’t last long. As we headed northeast toward Idaho, evidence of horses faded and the track grew smoother. A few rollers in the basin even delivered enough of a speed boost to get us into our big chainrings, perhaps for the first time on this odyssey.
The climb out of the basin loomed large in the distance and we prepared ourselves for the final grunt of the trip. The grade grew steeper the farther up the pitch we climbed and we were all forced to push our bikes to the rim. Wendell and I waited at the top, watching the rest of the group approach and eyeing the route we had taken yesterday and this morning across the wide-open bowl of grass.
Now back in Idaho, we continued to follow the Pipeline Road until we came across a dilapidated ranch outpost, complete with a two-story cabin, outhouse, workshop and corrals. Despite the run-down appearance, it was clear that the property still got some occasional use but was no longer suitable as living quarters. The cabin’s frame and foundation were solid but the roof and windows were long gone and the interior had fallen into deep disrepair. We struggled to imagine the difficulty of survival through the bitterly cold and windy winters out here on this exposed, isolated plain.
Just as we completed our explorations of the cabin and prepared to continue toward our meetup point, we saw the government pickup rumbling down the road toward us. Our Wilderness adventure was finished. With mixed emotions, we loaded our bikes and piled back into the truck for the drive back to the modern world.
Despite – or perhaps because of – the challenges and difficulty, trips to remote corners of our planet leave us with a better sense of our place in the world. We are reminded of the fragility of life, especially our own. We are forced to return to a more basic way of thinking that places priority on simple survival. When we return to the relative luxury and security of our normal lives, we do well to retain the perspective gained from journeys such as this. However, regular doses of wildness are essential to the maintenance of that perspective. That’s why places like this deserve to be protected. That’s also why we’ll keep going back.
<—{—<<
We are big on “just wander” styles of biking. So far, the 2016 Idaho fall weather has been excellent for some nice weekend S24O rides. The “start” of the Adventure Cycling Association’s Idaho Hot Springs MTB Route is right out our door, but finding the time to ride the entire route in one big trip isn’t feasible. We’ve ridden sections of the trip – last year we accomplished 150 miles when it was 112 degrees in the shade so this year we opted to wait until after fire season and the summer heat and planned to ride two more sections. We also opted to be flexible and let go of the purist idea of where one should start a ride. Sometimes life gets in the way and while we did get one section ridden the other will now probably wait until spring. In September, the stars & the full moon lined up and we ventured to Atlanta with some great biking friends. While our entire ride isn’t described on the Hot Springs Map this is a great get away ride with some beautiful scenery. Another group decision was to not start in town and suffer the 12 to 14 miles of horrendous wash board on the Middle Fork Road. Enough of us have biked that section to know once was enough. Taking off after work on a Friday we drove to Willow Creek Campground, knowing there was a full moon we were happy to see clear skies. What we didn’t account for was the full moon attracting campers who had no intention of sleeping and having them set up camp right next door… A bit bleary eyed we took off for Atlanta Saturday am. The road follows the river pretty much the entire 47 miles so, for the most part, it is a gradual climb. The last few miles the road steepens but knowing the bar and cafe in Atlanta weren’t far off we all geared down and carried on. The Bike Hermit wrote about his trip to Atlanta last year and did a great job of describing the bar. Happy to say it hasn’t changed. Good beer, a choice of cheeseburger or hamburger and life was good. Not only that but they agreed to feed us breakfast the next morning, truly an easy decision for all of us. The seven of us had the campground to ourselves and the hot springs to ourselves as well. We all agreed this would make a great annual fall trip.
Things to know:
- The road is dirt and gravel. For the most part a bike with 38 mm tires will do fine – there are some sandy areas. We had two Surly ECR’s, 2 Trolls and a Disc Trucker on our ride and all did awesome.
- The washboard isn’t as bad if you start anywhere beyond Willow Creek Campground and it gets better once you leave Boise County.
- The folks at Twin Springs are very friendly – one could also rent a cabin there and another cabin in Atlanta and be really spoiled (except the beer choice at Twin Springs is Coors or Bud so pack accordingly)
- The Campground in Atlanta seems to be free after labor day
- Hot Springs in Atlanta are nice. We opted for the one by the river below the campground but the pool close to the campground is also great. We didn’t ride down and look, but there are more hot springs by the river as you pedal to the campground.
- Fall vehicle traffic wasn’t bad and people were polite.
- There are plenty of places to camp along the way.
Highly recommend! Photo Credits to Paul Lindquist and Ron Riley
No surprise to our readers but bikepacking, and the bikepacking gear, gadgets and bikes to accommodate such activities, continues to grow in popularity. As people who like to travel off the beaten path we really appreciate these innovations and continue to bring new items into our store, plus take advantage of them ourselves.
Three years ago, inspired by their participation in Ride the Divide, a group of fellow bike packing addicts launched an Idaho “race” aptly named the Smoke’n’Fire400. Late summer in Idaho is also fire season, this year’s major fire began way back in mid-July and is still going strong. So strong it’s resulted in a major reroute of the 3rd annual ride. Regardless, the ride’s popularity has been fabulous. Bike Touring News has enjoyed working with many of the riders, it’s made for a fun summer and fall. In addition to Revelate Designs Gear, we added Ortlieb and Apidura to our bag line and are looking forward to some reviews. Other much needed items on this years 450 mile jaunt are reliable lights. We think the Busch & Mueller selections we’ve recommended will be stellar.
This years ride kicked off in Hyde Park with an informal gathering. Sun Ray Pizza and the ride organizers graciously agreed to let Bike Touring News contribute a keg of Highland Hollow Beer ;). Revelate Designs donated a Sweetroll for our raffle and the crowd was very appreciative. It’s always good to see how other riders choose to pack and we couldn’t help but snap some photos. You can follow the progress of the riders on Track Leader as they bounce and maneuver their way along double track, single track and more. Hard to believe some will likely complete this in less than two days. Personally, I look forward to hearing from the “folks like me” who will be taking a slower pace and not hesitating to stop to smell the flowers, get some sleep and eat a real meal.
Categories
“Diamond A Desert” by Bicycle
“drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log”
Three of us set out on the bicycles to find Arch Canyon in the Bruneau Jarbidge Rivers Wilderness. On day one we missed our turn and ended up at Dead Horse Spring. The next day we saw a dead horse, got disoriented and lost our way, traveled through the high desert with thunderstorms and were rescued (indirectly) by ATV’s. On the last day we found the road we meant to take the first day. We never made it to Arch Canyon but we found exactly what we were looking for.
So, what did we learn?
On the way back to the vehicle we were wishing we had left trail markers at the various Y’s in the road. The route we had taken on the way in was not always apparent, especially after the rain, and landmarks look different approached from the opposite direction. We didn’t really learn it on this trip but the need to filter water at every opportunity and to seek out water sources was reinforced. We were reminded of how remote this country is and another person might not be seen for days. There is a reason for that; the desert doesn’t want us here. Even the Shoshone abandoned this area. A Spot satellite transmitter would be a good investment in case anything goes wrong. At the very least, one should make sure somebody knows where they are going.
For ages, they’ve been the standard. They’re nearly as ubiquitous as racks and panniers on touring bikes around the world but can also be found on road racing steeds, track bikes, cyclocross machines, commuting rigs or even mountain bikes. I’m talking about drop bars. Ask just about anyone what a bicycle handlebar looks like and they’ll likely describe the ramhorn bends of a drop bar. They come on many of our favorite new bikes, like Surly’s Long Haul Trucker, Disc Trucker, Cross-Check and Straggler. It isn’t tradition alone that keeps these gracefully curved tubes on the front of so many different bikes. Drop bars offer an effective and comfortable range of hand and body positions that are excellent for a great variety of riding styles and terrain. There are hundreds of subtle variations in shape available, each with differing reach, drop, width and bend to provide a rider with the perfect fit. In short, drop bars are awesome.
However, there are situations where a drop bar leaves much to be desired. Take a look at mountain bikes or off-road motorcycles and you’ll see what I mean. In order to maneuver his machine through difficult terrain, the off-road rider needs a neutral or slightly rear-biased body position and plenty of leverage. A wide, flat, slightly backswept handlebar does just that. What that flat handlebar doesn’t do is provide a multitude of hand and body positions. For the singletrack rider who is constantly moving and shifting her weight over the bike this is not a big drawback. Her riding position changes independent of her grip on the handlebars. For the touring or bikepacking rider who may cover long stretches of flat and smooth terrain in between steep and rough sections, the limited hand positions offered by a flat bar can lead to soreness, stiffness and accelerated fatigue. This is why we see so many bikepacking bikes with aerobars clamped onto flat bars. The rider needs alternative hand and body positions to ride comfortably for hours at a time.
So – as in most things – a middle ground must be sought and the unconventional thinker often arrives at the ideal solution. When it comes to handlebars for off-road touring and a variety of other applications, Jeff Jones’ Loop H-Bar may just be that solution. A great deal has already been written about the H-Bar’s merits – much of it by Jeff Jones himself – so I won’t waste time adding to the mountain of praise already heaped on these bars. In many ways, the H-bar neatly splits the difference between a drop bar and a flat bar, retaining the best characteristics of each. It offers the width and leverage of the flat bar, the forward reach and hand positions of the drop bar and much more room to shift weight rearward. In addition, the Loop-H bar’s forward extension offers a perfect location for strapping a handlebar roll. Revelate even offers a special 4-point attachment kit to neatly secure their Sweetroll to the Loop-H bars.
The astute reader may recall that I have been considering a different handlebar for my dirt touring bike ever since my experience on the Smoke ‘n’ Fire 400. Given the large number of other touring riders who may be pushing the limits of their drop bar setups and looking for alternatives, I thought I’d share some thoughts and experiences from the process and try to provide a setup guide for H-Bars on a touring or bikepacking bike.
Assuming you’ve settled on the H-Bar as the right handlebar for your application, there are a few other components you’ll need to effect the conversion. Since my bike and most of the touring bikes we sell are spec’ed with drop bars and bar-end shifters, I’ll walk you through that process. If your bike has integrated shifters or downtube levers, your process and the parts needed will be different.
So, let’s get down to the details. What do you need to make the conversion from drop bars to H-Bars on your bike? Every bike is different and there is no one perfect setup. Many of these questions you’ll have to answer for yourself – especially when it comes to fit. I do not claim to be a fit expert and have arrived at positions that work for me through a combination of self-education and trial-and-error. If in doubt, consult a trained bicycle fitting professional in your area before making any dramatic changes to your riding position.
First: Pick Your Handlebars
Jeff Jones offers three different handlebars that provide the same basic positioning but in slightly different shapes and widths. They are the Loop-H, Cut-H and Bend-H. They are all available in 660 or 710mm widths and a variety of materials. If you’re planning on using a handlebar roll (especially the Revelate Sweetroll), you’ll be happiest with the Loop-H. If you won’t be strapping much gear to the bars, don’t need as much forward extension but want the width and backsweep in an elegant shape, get the Bend-H. Other than aesthetic preference, I don’t think there is much to recommend the Cut-H over the Loop. Also, there isn’t really much reason to choose the 660mm width as the handlebars are clearly marked for cutting, if desired. I would encourage anyone other than the smallest riders to try the wide bars first. You just might like them and you can always trim them later. For my purposes, I went with a silver, aluminum Loop-H Bar in a 710mm width.
Second: Pick Your Stem
Now things get complicated. Bicycle fitting is a highly complex topic with very little good research to draw on outside the racing world. The makeup of a comfortable and efficient riding position is different for everyone, so I’ll do my best to offer helpful guidelines you can use to find your own sweet spot. Jeff Jones wrote a useful blog post on choosing a stem to pair with your H-Bar but it is geared toward riders moving from flat bars to H-bars. Since we’re talking about drop bars here, I’ll take you through some of the questions you’ll be faced with.
There are two important variable to consider when choosing your stem: reach and stack. Reach describes the horizontal position of the bars, or how far out they are. Stack (or drop) describes the vertical position of the bars, or how far above or below the saddle they sit. Reach and stack can be measured in a variety of ways but since we’re talking about converting an existing cockpit assumed to be comfortable, I’ll talk about them in more relative terms.
First, let’s talk reach. Most people find that their favorite hand position on drop bars is on the brake hoods or the “ramps” of the bars just behind the hoods. Assuming you are reasonably comfortable on your drop bars, I recommend setting up your H-Bars so that the forward extension gives the same reach as the farthest forward position you can reach on the brake hoods. This will give you roughly the same amount of room to stretch out forward but with much more space to shift your weight back. In this position I found that the junction of the grip section and crossbar landed right on the ramps, providing an ideal perch to simulate the sweet spot on my drop bars. It is worth pointing out that the total front-to-back reach of the Loop H-Bar is significantly longer than a typical drop bar. Compared to roughly 5.5 inches of reach on an average drop bar from the front of the brake hoods to handlebar center, the 710mm Loop H-Bars measure a full 9 inches from the center of the forward extension to the center of the rearmost portion of the grip area. Most of this additional real estate comes in the widest, rearmost grip position. Avoid the temptation to set your bars farther forward to favor this grip position as it will render the forward extensions unusable and prevent you from shifting your weight farther back for descents.
With the H-Bars positioned in the manner pictured above, I estimated that I would need to shorten my stem by 1cm to secure them in place, so I settled on a 90mm long stem.
Now let’s talk stack, or drop. For most riders, positioning the H-Bars so they are roughly level with the saddle yields a comfortable, neutral riding position with good weight distribution between handlebar, pedals and saddle. Depending on your current setup, you’ll likely need a stem with more rise or up-angle to achieve this. By changing my stem from a -10 degree to a 0 degree, I raised the handlebars by roughly 1.5cm, putting them just a hair lower than my saddle.
If you need to raise the bars more than a couple centimeters this stem extension is available which clamps onto the fork steerer tube in place of the stem. The stem in turn clamps onto the extension affording up to 8cm additional stem height.
All of the Jones bars have a 31.8mm clamping surface, so be sure that any stem you purchase will fit the handlebar and your bike’s steerer tube to avoid disappointment. Thomson’s X4 mountain bike stem is an excellent choice but we offer several less expensive options as well.
Third: Choosing Brake Levers and Shifters
After the complexity of the stem question, the remaining decisions will be fairly straightforward. When choosing brake levers, you’ll want a flat-bar, MTB-style lever that pulls the proper amount of cable for your brakes. Cantilevers, centerpull, sidepull and road disc brakes use a short pull. V-brakes and mountain disc brakes use a long pull. Also, I highly recommend levers with a good reach-adjustment mechanism for the H-Bars. You will need to replace the brake cables and housing so if the new brake levers don’t include cables and housing you will need to purchase those separately.
If you have bar-end shifters, Paul Components’ Thumbies provide a clean and elegant way to mount your shifters on top the Jones Bars and use them as thumb shifters. The bar end shifters will work in the ends of the Jones bars but, given the width and the sweep of the bars, this might be a little functionally awkward.
Hope this guide offers some help and direction to those considering a swap to the Jones Bars.
B. suggested a mid-week overnight trip on the Bikes to Atlanta, ID. I was keen to go and was delighted when my secretary reported I had no pressing obligations on the proposed days.
The next few photos are of some of the hunting camps that are set up along side the road. Hunting season opened on Monday of this week and it looks as though these camps were set up several days or weeks before. We shared our spot in Atlanta with a party of 35 people who were there for the next two weeks. I’m sure they had as much difficulty understanding our enjoyment of our past time as I did of theirs.
Indeed, Sky King has a new love. I happen to be quite spoiled and spend many happy hours on my ” Excellent Creative Riding” machine also known as the “Extremely Cool Ride” and for those of you who don’t know me, just call it my Surly ECR.
We ventured out in August for a S24O to Crutcher Crossing. The road/trail/path is two track, dirt and rock. The first 7 miles pass through a Juniper forest. Juniper’s are invasive species in the Owyhee Mountains and this section is currently being logged. Given that, the road had impressive ruts, especially on hilly corners. We hadn’t traveled far and as I negotiated a rutted corner my tires slipped out and boom, on the ground I go. While I don’t consider myself the most technical descender – especially on a loaded bike – I should have negotiated the corner just fine. Back on the bike, half mile down the road and boom, slipped out again. After a few choice words I take a serious look at my tires – the original Surly Knard 29+3 27tpi. Yep, the side edge tread is pretty much worn to zilch – oops.
I’ve never had a big complaint with the Surly Knard tires. Some of my riding buddies have commented on the lack of a grippy edge but I never mind hopping off and walking some of the steep. The rest of the trip I certainly paid attention and took a less aggressive approach to the rest of the rutted corners.
Did I mention I was spoiled, oh yeah, I did. A few days after the trip the Bike Hermit surprised me with a set of Maxxis Chronicles.
This is a relatively new 29+3 so I had some trepidation. Ha, silly girl. The tread is perfect for a wide variety of terrain. I have the 120 TPI casing and the tire is lighter than my Surly Knards. The roll on pavement is excellent. On our very technical ride to Pipeline crossing, in the Owyhee desert the tires, hands down, out performed the Knards. The side grip is great. I didn’t have any slips, any spin outs or questionable traction issues. The Excellent Cool Ride bounced and jostled along happily – almost as if the person riding had advance to “pro” status. Look out Bike Hermit!
(Logan, over at bikepacking.com has a detailed review of the Maxxis Chronicle)
It’s Friday afternoon about 4:30 and I’m in the weeds. I’ve had pretty steady walk in traffic and I am just starting to fulfill the online orders which came in today. Don’t get me wrong; these are good problems and I really appreciate every customer. But I’m tired, and the thought of going to a dinner party tonight and then getting the bikes ready for an overnight bikepacking trip tomorrow is actually depressing. That’s the opposite of how it’s supposed to work: we go to dinner parties and plan trips in order to relax and rejuvenate and get away from the grind, I think. Maybe the depression was just from feeling too tired to do the things that normally are enjoyable. Luckily, Sky King never cuts me any slack, and so I change my clothes and trudge off to the dinner party, which turns out not to be horrible. The other attendees are wine aficionados, which the Bike Hermit is not. I feel a little intimidated and inadequate as I quaff my Josephsbrau Heller Bock. But I do learn some stuff about wine and sample most of the varieties which were paired with the different courses. The hostess is a great cook and the company is highly entertaining. In spite of my plans to be irascible, I enjoy myself and by the time we walk home I feel quite a bit better. (maybe it was all the wine sampling?)
We have the bikes loaded in the truck along with all our gear by mid-morning and we head south out of Boise. It is probably 2:30 PM or so by the time we start riding. Even though it is over 100 degrees in Boise today it is not even 90 here at 7,000 feet. A rancher rides up on a four-wheeler with his horse’s saddle slung across the front. We ask him for directions and about the road and we discover that he and his fellow wranglers just drove some cattle down to Bull Basin- where he left his horse. His speech is slow and deliberate, as if he is carefully considering what he is going to say. I imagine I see the beginnings of a grin as he thinks to himself things he decides not to say. I’m sort of disappointed that he is wearing a ball cap, even if his boots appear authentic cowboy. Why not be totally awesome and wear a custom West Texas Cattleman if you are living the life?
We roll generally downhill for 9 miles to Bull Basin where the road t-bones at a posted gate, behind which stands our cowboy’s paint. We turn left and through a second gate, which is posted with a bleached out sign which is unreadable, into a fenced compound where the cattle are chilling. The road crosses a swampy spring with water the color of black tea, passes through another gate and heads up out of the basin. This last gate is not signed which makes me believe the short section of private land we just crossed is de facto not posted.
It was almost 7 PM by the time we reached Crutcher Crossing. We drank our cans of Dales Pale Ale, bathed in the Owyhee River, ate dinner and passed out. In the morning we ate breakfast, packed the bikes and headed back up the trail. This was a very workmanlike S24O bikepacking overnighter, but I still felt as though I had escaped the grind. I was physically very tired but mentally prepared to get back to the salt mine on Monday.
