Surly ECR encounter at Buffalo Creek

A Surly ECR perfectly at home in Buffalo Creek along the Colorado Trail.

Update: I got home to discover that this little post was featured on the Official Surly Intergalactic Regional HQ Facebook page. I am more than a bit shocked and even more honored. As one of the 12 remaining humans who is not a denizen of Facebook, I can't comment there, but I welcome your visit by proxy. And yes, whiskey does enhance language. Thanks, Surly purveyors and enthusiasts!

Last year, the good folks at Surly, Salvagetti, and Basic Kneads teamed up to bring to life a little something that they termed the "Unicorn Petting Zoo" near my little corner of Colorado. I was fortunate enough to attend and spend a little quality time with a Surly Krampus. At the time, I was blown away with the Krampus' inherent groundbreaking features. The bike as a whole felt fast and nimble on the trail as it veritably flew on its cushion of 29+ tires. Everything about it seemed to deftly redefine what an all terrain bike could be in a nearly ideal form.

In total, the Krampus is a bike that I believe to be a central catalyst in changing the perceptions of what it means to ride off road. As evidence, a distinctly Krampus-flavored milieu permeated many of the best designs of this year's North American Handmade Bicycle Show. The 29+ concept is, in many ways, the most logical evolution of the genus duo luto via rota; it offers terrific traction, a smooth ride enabled by a large rolling diameter, and a nice cushion to take the edge off without the maintenance needs of mechanical suspension. About the only shortcoming of the Krampus that I noted last year to keep it from being an ideal adventure bike was its relative paucity of braze-ons.

Once again, last weekend the three generous entities of last year's event got together to show off a couple of new Surly models, in addition to drinking bear (edit: or beer, as the case may be), eating pizza, camping, and having a good time. Again, I was fortunate enough to attend, though for a shorter time. Just as nature abhors a vaccum, I am happy to report that lack of braze-ons is no longer a concern with the introduction of the Surly ECR, the seriously capable cousin of the Krampus.

The ECR is perhaps a little darker in color than my first generation Big Dummy, but it is a good color that blends in well with the forest. Personally, green is my favorite bike color, and Surly has a track record of delivering terrific verdant hues. 

The ECR stock parts spec is no-nonsense and highly dependable. Surly's new O.D. crank is very nice. 

Please note, that this is more of a conceptual reckoning of a bike, more than a practical review, as I didn't have adequate time to make thorough acquaintance. I borrowed a size medium ECR to test; a couple of sizes too small for me but the only one available at the time. A bit later, I tried out a size XL, which fit me very well. For reference, I'm about 6'2", have a 89.5cm PBH, and ride a Surly Big Dummy and Surly Pugsley, both in size XL. I'd already taken the photos shown here, so please note that all ECR photos on this page are of a size medium.

The ECR is very utilitarian in build quality and appearance. This is a bike that exudes an aura of solid dependability in much the same way as an International Scout, a Coleman stove, or a good Thermos; each imbued with timeless aesthetic and functional value. It is no nonsense in design, and is equipped with tried-and-true components known to be simple to repair and maintain. Dependability and value are qualities with great appeal when the going gets rough, more so than low weight at the expense of strength, or any other transitory flash factor. Though this rationale may not hold true for some people, if you have an interest in the ECR, you're probably not going to be disappointed.

As seems to have been the case with the initial design of the Krampus, the ECR also benefits from cross-pollination with other Surly bikes. Its Krampus-derived foundation is obvious, but the ECR is also equipped with the copious range of braze-ons and multifunctional dropouts found on the Troll and Ogre. With a lower fork and more similar angles, the ECR's ride is perhaps closer to a Pugsley than the Krampus; feeling somewhat less aggressive and speedy, though it does not feel at all slow.

The ECR features a Jones Loop H-bar, perfectly suited for holding devices or baggage, in addition to enabling a great riding position. The MicroShift thumb shifters  have become my favorite, as similarly equipped on my Pugsley. 

Cockpit view. A Garmin GPS mount is installed to place the unit directly in front of the stem. 

The stock Surly ECR build incorporates a Jones Loop H-bar. This bar plays an integral role in establishing the character of the bike, in much the same way that the super wide 780mm Salsa Whammy bar does on the stock Krampus. I loved the Whammy bar on the Krampus, and credited the bar as being the perfect feedback device for the intent of the bike. In much the same way, there could not be a better rider interface for the ECR than the Jones Loop H-bar. In addition, the loop section provides practical dashboard space for mounting lights, a GPS unit, bells, bags or any number of items that might be favored by stalwart adventurers.

Over the years, I've become a huge fan of highly backswept bars for a few key reasons. Highly swept bars are much more comfortable for long rides, with the more natural position contributing to reduced wrist, shoulder and neck strain. Swept bars also afford a more upright seating position, and as such a better view. A good view is essential to an adventure bike, as a primary purpose for riding to exotic or difficult to reach places is for the experience. It's not a coincidence that my most ridden bikes are equipped with either Nitto Albatross or Surly Open Bars, and Salsa backswept low rise bars are close behind. In the short time I spent with the H-bar equipped ECR, I was very impressed. Perhaps my Pugsley could benefit from an H-bar.

Big and fat 29x3 tires make a lot of contact with the ground.

The specially designed chainstay yoke that makes it possible to handle 29x3 with chainring clearance on a 73mm BB shell. The ECR has a one-piece yoke that is somewhat less artisanal than the early model Krampus I rode last year, but serves the purpose at least as well. 

In the end, the ECR is currently at the pinnacle of off-road touring bike technology. It is imminently capable, superbly outfitted, and a lot of fun to ride. I can't imagine a better platform for the dedicated off-road adventurers I've had the good fortune to encounter, such as this guy, this gal, or this other guy. But, for me, perhaps the most astounding feature of the bike is in how it creates ripples in the lineage of the emerging 29+ platform, and provides cues as to the future course of two-wheeled exploration.

I bought my first Surly (a bean green Cross-Check frameset) in January of 2002, when Surly was a quirky little offshoot specializing in odd bike-y things. Then, as now, Surly is part of QBP, a large juggernaut in the bike world, but mostly unknown to the public. I now own three Surly bikes, and am happy to know that even though as an organization Surly has grown quite a bit, it retains core values embracing quirkiness, and utilizes this character to continue to drive development of innovative and fun bike products within a broader context.

Not long ago, fatbikes were a mere oddity in the two-wheeled kingdom; objects of perplexed stares at their cartoonishly huge tires. Surly didn't invent fatbikes, but with the advent of the Pugsley and supporting rims and tires, the company made fatbike technology accessible to a much larger degree than ever before, contributing to an emerging normalization of huge volume tires. This year, two of the industry's largest players, Trek and Specialized, have fatbike models, which would have been unthinkable just a couple of years back. From the vantage point of the present, I can foresee the impact of 29+ resonating in much the same way.

The fact that Surly's revelry in what would be considered odd within the greater sphere of the bicycle industry has served as a bellwether to eventual change, is at the heart of what, to me, makes bicycles much more than just machines. The ECR is a precursor of the larger off-road bicycling landscape. It is a significant step along the way to the next big thing. Surly has been a bit evasive as to its intended meaning of the acronym ECR, but for me it means "Evolutionary Change Rocks!"

Gratuitous cute kid pics, with a fatbike thrown in for good measure

This evening, the girls were ready early for trick-or-treating.

October has been sparse in activity here, but not in real-life activity. Rest assured things have been quite busy around the old bike ranch, so busy in fact that this oft neglected blog has once again nearly shriveled up. So, to make up for the neglect, at least in part, the following are a bunch of photos that are chock full of seasonal flavor. Enjoy!

To start, a couple of weeks ago, our local farm had its annual pumpkin patch sale. As has been the case in the past few years, it was a cold, wet, muddy event. We quickly dashed in, grabbed our pumpkin and got out.

Our furry little creature seems to enjoy sharing the ride with a large vegetable.

We braved the drizzle long enough to have a little fun along the way.

A week or so later, the weather was nicer. I took the opportunity to test out the Daddying capabilities of the Pugsley. The results were quite positive, however riding in rain or dust would undoubtedly result in dirty, unhappy conditions for anyone riding in the trailer. A nice layer of snow, on the other hand might be different. I have a set of kid-sized skis that quite likely have a future in place of the wheels on the Burley trailer at some point this winter. A fatbike pulling a ski trailer is something that I haven't yet seen anywhere else. You are correct in determining that my benefactors at the National Science Foundation are getting their money's worth out of me. They encourage us to color outside the lines.

Pugsley power. How does Big Fat Dummy Daddy sound?

Aww, how cute.

Scout has been with us for 11 months now, and is a changed, confident dog.
Though, we haven't mastered 'sit' or many other non-bike related commands quite yet.

Last night, we finally got around to pumpkin carving. Big Sis drafted the plans and I did the knife work. She decided to go with a classic design, talking of the design process of the mean girls who drew on Charlie Brown's head during It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. Deftly, I avoided volunteering my sparsely haired, pumpkin-sized head as drawing material. By the way, this year's airing of The Great Pumpkin was asininely scheduled on Halloween night at 7:00 by the brainiacs at ABC. Don't they realize that's exactly the wrong time to air a traditional Halloween special, because no one will be at home to see it? This conflict is obvious to everyone except a network executive, apparently.

In any case, I'll have to say that the results of our pumpkin project turned out quite good. As is the case with most farm-raised pumpkins, the seeds were perfect for roasting.

This is what happens to eyes when a flash illuminates an otherwise completely darkened room.

The girls' eyes aren't so bugged out in a room with the lights on.

This morning, the girls were up early to get ready for the day-long sugar fest that is Halloween. I continue to be astonished at how the holiday is an entirely different experience as a parent. I confess that Halloween and Valentine's Day are not as popular with me as I edge ever closer into becoming a grumpy old man.

The costumes turned out pretty good this year. Julie sourced the pumpkin costume and parts of the Word Girl costume. As the seamstress of the family, I sewed the satiny cape and constructed the Word Girl emblem on the red shirt. Her venerable red rain boots filled the role as superhero boots. For those who aren't parents or at least viewers of afternoon PBS programs, Word Girl is actually a quite entertaining and intelligently written show that is a gem among programs aimed at children. It's well worth checking out, especially for the quirky villains.

All dressed up and ready to go. 

Our little pumpkin.

Word Girl is ready to fly.

This coming weekend is fatbike Halloween for the Denver area. At least, that's what I expect the Unicorn Petting Zoo as advertised by Surly and Salvagetti to approximate. I'll bet on more beer and fewer pumpkins, however. I plan to make my way over to meet some of the Surly goofballs from the mothership, rub elbows with many of my fellow fatbike colleagues from the region, and throw a leg over a Krampus or two. If I survive the encounter, you can count on a report right here at some point in the future. That is all.

Nick the Gypsy

Just in from Fort Collins to a typically small-scale meeting of the Denver Surly Owner's Society (S.O.S.).

This past Wednesday, I met up with Nick, otherwise known as Gypsy by Trade, an adventurous young guy who has ridden his Surly Pugsley all the way from Anchorage, Alaska, a good chunk of which was along the Continental Divide trail. Nick has been alternately riding vast sections of the world, largely offroad, and working intermittently to fund his adventures for the past four years. I like to think that if I were his age and similarly unconnected to obligations such as parenthood and a mortgage, I'd be doing something along the same lines. In any case, his travels are inspiring, and I vicariously tag along when he checks in from the trail.

Nick's loaded rig is in the 75 pound weight range, but you wouldn't know it by the way he makes those fat tires move. Phil of Denver B-cycle leads the way. 

Tracy, the illustrious organizer of the S.O.S. brings up the rear.

I opted for my befendered Surly Cross Check, as a menacing sky seemed to indicate rain in the near future.

A small group of Surly owners had some beer and shot the breeze with Nick on his way through town. We then took a ride up into the Highlands to the new location of Salvagetti, where a benefit party for Mountain2Mountain was in progress. The new shop space is really nice, and there is a lot of room for the shop to continue its role as a community gathering spot for bicyclists.

Scott of Salvagetti and Nick talking about bikes 'n' stuff.

Justin Simoni's CDT conquering single speed Kona on display at Salvagetti.

On my way home, I took advantage of a nice cool evening with slight occasional sprinkles to enjoy my trip home. I don't often ride in the Highlands and am rarely downtown at night. My effort was rewarded with seeing a glimpse of the urban nightlife, much of it seemingly enjoyed by others on bikes.

Little Man Ice Cream is a popular destination.

The Highlands Bridge is teeming with activity, even after the late-for-me-to-be-out time of 10PM.

Nick is spending a bit of time in Fort Collins getting ready for the next segment of his quest, riding the Colorado Trail starting in Waterton Canyon just South of Denver. He's in the midst of setting up a 29er trail machine for his girlfriend Lael, who will be his traveling partner for the route. Best of luck to you both, and stop in any time you're in the area.

Platte River Trail shakedown cruise on the Pugsley

2012 Surly Necromancer Pugsley, as clean as it will ever be.

Yesterday, I took an extended lunch and rode North from my office along the Platte River Trail up into Adams County. Round trip, the distance was a little over 20 miles; my first long ride on the Pugsley. It was incidentally also the first ride on the Pug out in the general populace, which was somewhat revealing about just how non-normal fatbikes are perceived to be.

After riding a Big Dummy for years, often loaded with things not generally thought of as being transportable by bike, I'm accustomed to receiving dumbfounded stares while out and about. However, the Pugsley drew even more attention. I could not count the number of times I heard observers mention to each other or to me something along the lines of, "look at those tires," or, "those tires are huge." I also got a lot of "cool bike" comments from both bicyclists and non-bicyclists alike, both genders, and from people ranging in age from approximately 6 to 80. I had several people, from construction workers to former bike shop owners stop me to ask about the Pugsley. One obviously inebriated fellow even asked me about how I got here from the future. For the duration of the ride, I got to feel what it might be like as the belle of the ball.

The requisite photo of fat tire tracks in the sand, Endomorph over Larry.

Although the Platte River Trail is paved for much of its length, there are numerous parallel trails in the dirt and sandbars lining the Platte River. I made the most of these non-paved surfaces whenever possible. The Pugsley is a bike that craves the dirt. It encourages its rider to seek out uneven surfaces and spots with mucky or soft strata. This is probably not a revelation to anyone who has much experience on a fatbike, but it was easier to ride through loose sand than to attempt to walk over it. As long as I didn't make any sharp turns, the Pug rolled over even the most unstable of surfaces.

A cormorant cooling itself near the water in the 90F degree heat.

The best the zoom on my little camera could do to show the black-crowned night heron at the water's edge.

The Platte River Trail is a great place to escape the cityscape, quickly and easily from many locations in downtown Denver. A lot of people were taking advantage of the cooling effects of the water and trees. Many species of birds and small animals were also present along the river.

With two big gyroscopes spinning, it's easy to ride no-hands, even off road.

The Pugsley, and fatbikes in general, are usually framed as being special purpose bikes for snow or sand. However, that point of view seriously undermines the capabilities of these bikes. Riding on doubletrack and gravel roads, even along coarse gravel railroad beds is terrific fun on a fatbike. The fat tires at low pressure remove or reduce a lot of the jarring effects of rough surfaces without the somewhat dead feeling that would be evident with a full suspension mountain bike in the same places. The float of the fat tires is the perfect amount of suspension to make riding fun without impairing the sense of feedback to the rider from the trail. Overall, the Pugsley is great fun. Riding it makes me feel like a kid again.

Construction along the Platte River Trail under I-76. It might be problematic during the Denver Century Ride this weekend.

My Pugsley on a bridge near the furthest extent of my ride, somewhere in Welby, CO.

In the evening, I got together with some friends for a gathering of the Surly Owners Society (S.O.S.) at a local brewery. Tracy showed off her Trucker with fancy shellacked cork grips on a newly installed Nitto Albatross bar, and Sandy had skinny Continentals on his roadied-up Cross-Check. While the number of attendees do not yet rival the popular Denver Cruisers rides, we had some good beer and some good fun.

Sandy left speechless after his first ride on a Pugsley. Start saving, Sandy!

Tracy with a smile as big as the Pugsley's tires.

Surly family portrait in front of Biker Jim's house of gourmet dogs: L-R 54 cm Long Haul Trucker in green, 58 cm Cross-Check in black, and 20 inch Necromancer Pugsley.

Surly Cross-Check hootenanny

Three Surly amigos.

This evening I participated in a mini gathering of the tribe of Surly Cross-Check owners. Sandy and Tracy have each recently drunk the Kool-aid and are now full fledged CC riders. We met at Great Divide to sample some of their fine beer, then were off to Biker Jim's for some fine tube-shaped cuisine. Both were ideal accompaniments to the ferrous goodness of our Surly steeds.

I've always thought of the Cross-Check as being the chameleon of bikes, able to do just about anything and to adapt to changing surroundings at will. Depending on the components it has worn, mine has spent portions of its life as a cross bike, a road bike, a mustachioed ersatz Rivendell, a svelte-tired 29er mountain bike, and a few other iterations in between. Taking a look at the differences and similarities of our three Cross-Checks and their individualized builds further supports the chameleon hypothesis.

Jack of all trades. My 2001 58cm bean green Cross-Check, set up as a single speed upright townie. I've been enjoying the recent addition of a Surly Open Bar and Ergon grips. This bike is reborn into something even better every couple of years. However, it is a bit envious of the greater quantity of braze-ons found on its modern siblings.

Stealth with flair. Sandy's 2011 58cm gloss black Cross-Check, with a mostly stock build of wisely chosen parts. Additions include an Old Man Mountain rack and snazzy aluminum fenders. Some bikes adopt characteristics of their owners, and I wouldn't be surprised if this bike had a beard the next time I see it.

Rolling artwork. Tracy's 2011 54cm robin's egg blue Cross-Check, fixed and color coordinated like nobody's business. The silver components underscore the sophisticated blue and umber hues. Don't think I didn't notice the bottle, Tracy. Topped off with a couple of Schwalbe 40s, this is functional form at its finest.

The three of us talked about the finer qualities of the venerable Cross-Check and took each other's bikes for a little spin. So similar, yet so different. It's amazing how little has changed during the ten year interval between production of these bikes, indicating no pressing need to change a good thing.

My Cross-Check still rides like new, and whenever I revamp the components or shuffle between gearing formats, I get a new bike all over again. For a bike addict, that could just about be the perfect situation. Now if only I could figure out a way to run the recently announced 4.5 inch Surly Big Fat Larry tires on my Cross-Check, I could stop daydreaming about adding another bike to the ranch.

Upon my return home, I took out my other Surly for a ride, carrying the whole family with me on the Big Dummy.

This unusual point of view was afforded by the rear-most rider.

My co-pilots on the Big Dummy for the evening.

Self portrait by Goldilocks.

This captures the mood after a circuit on the dirt trail.

Bean green on the scene

This blog is ostensibly about adventures on a Surly Big Dummy, my most frequently ridden bike. However, the Dummy is not my only bike, nor is it even my only Surly. The Dummy's older sibling is my venerable bean green 2001 Surly Cross-Check. I am fortunate enough to have several great bikes, but the reality is that as a Daddy who usually needs to carry a little girl and a lot of other stuff, the Dummy is so useful that many of my other bikes are neglected. This week however, family is in town to visit and my child carrying duties have been temporarily relieved from my commute. So I've been riding and re-experiencing the Cross-Check.

The Surly Cross-Check frame is the chameleon of the bike world. I've seen dozens of very plausible configurations on the road over the years. My own 58cm Cross-Check has worn a variety of costumes. I initially built mine up as a fairly typical cyclocross bike, but it has since spent chronologically successive portions of its life as a touring bike, a road bike (complete with a brief foray into 9-speed Ultegra STI), a Rivendell-esque mustache handlebar equipped all-rounder, and a rigid 29-er mountain bike. Each rendition was fun in its own way.

A couple of years ago in a fit of targeted de-cluttering, my Cross-Check landed as a Nitto albatross bar equipped, single speeded, befendered, gentleman-dandy-type utility bike. This has easily been my favorite configuration. It's the Old Overholt of bikes, imparting a satisfying mouth-feel of slightly irrelevant tradition with a peculiarly distinctive bean green-ey aftertaste. With only one gear (46/20) on slightly knobby 700c/35 tires, it's a good Jack-of-all-trades bike; quick enough when necessary yet able to tackle reasonable climbs, on or off-road in most kinds of weather. Without all the heavy gears and other newfangled doodads, it feels light, sleek and efficient, at least to me.

My Cross-Check in downtown Denver yesterday with the saddle inexplicably about an inch lower than I prefer:

I've really enjoyed riding the Cross-Check again these past few days. I know it's an inanimate assembly of quite ordinary steel tubing, but this bike has always had a sort of internal resilience. When pedaling, it is eerily silent, but when coasting the pawls of the freehub click pleasingly loudly, louder even than other frames that have shared the same wheels. For some reason, the clicking freehub reminds me of a happy dog wagging its tail. Maybe there's something special in that snazzy green powdercoat.

Hey there

As far back as I can remember, I have always enjoyed riding bikes. Bicycles are inexpensive to acquire and maintain, require no fuel and emit no pollutants, and are a fun and healthy means of physical activity. I think that the simple enjoyment of riding, coupled with the capacity for utilitarian transportation positions bicycles as an ideal vehicle. Riding a bicycle for transportation offers at least a partial solution to a number of current urban problems. Studying how bikes can change the dynamics of culture and affect the health and sustainability of communities is the focus of my career.

I bought a Surly Big Dummy Cargo bike not long after they became available. In my many years of riding a bike, the Big Dummy has singularly changed my perception of the use of bicycles and as a result, many aspects of my life. This blog is intended as a bin to collect observations gleaned while experiencing life on two wheels.