NAHBS 2013, Day 1. I was there.

A Moots built to carry a chainsaw, among other things. This was perhaps my favorite bike of the show. Plenty more on that about halfway down the post.

UPDATE: Day 2 photos are here.

I have not previously attended the North American Handmade Bicycle Show, or any other large bike event of its kind. However, this year it is in Denver, so there was no way I would miss it. So, if you're ready to see the bikes, brace yourself. A word of caution though, a tremendous number of photos are to follow. As overwhelming as the number of photos may be, it is not nearly so much so as to have been there. It was a good thing, but overwhelming just the same.

If you are still here, it may help to make sure you have a tasty beverage before you begin.

My Pugsley on light rail on the way to the show. Not handmade, per se, but certainly hands were used in its construction.

Off to a good start, I parked next to Cass' snazzy '84 Stumpjumper, also not exactly handmade.
Thanks to BikeDenver for the valet parking.

NAHBS Denver. It's official. 

Right out of the gate, I met the incomparable Tarik Saleh, of whose famous bike club I am a member, as well as his fine family.

I got there right as the place was roaring to life.

1987 Steve Potts Signature. Fillet brazed.

Ordinarily I'm fairly organized, but I immediately realized there was too much going on for me to quickly make any sense of it. So, I started with something akin to comfort food; a vintage mountain bike. This Steve Potts wasn't new, but it was as much of a gem as any of the bikes there. It's a masterful drop bar mountain bike, chock full of creative innovations.

WTB roller cam brakes, front and rear. Vintage Specialized Ground Control tires.  

Note the custom shifter pods for the Deore XT top mount shifters. 

I can easily imagine a Gypsy on this bike.

That's Steve himself on the right.

Beautiful Wheel Fanatyk hardwood rims and Curtis Odom hubs.

More shiny things from Curtis Odom.

Curtis Odom bike jewelry with a gigantic chainring.

A Brodie full-suspension electric bike. 

Go Rider bamboo longtail fatbike. Excitingly, many longtail fatbikes were to be found.

A Peacock Groove running the current gold-standard of superfat wheels and tires.

A slightly skinnier Peacock Groove with paint too impossibly bright and sparkly to capture on camera.

A Geekhouse Brentwood, in quite possibly the same hue as an '87 Raleigh Seneca, for you Raleigh folks out there..

I'm thinking the Pugsley wants a set of these nicely thin VP platform pedals. Who am I to say no?

I met up with Cass of while out riding and Scott of Porcelain Rocket, who were looking at Scott's amazing new Hunter adventure bike. These guys are both titans of the adventure biking world.

This Hunter is another longtail fatbike, and one of my favorites at the show. Scott has big plans for it on the Canning Stock Route, as first ridden here.

As incredible as the bike are Scott's frame bags. They bolt into the frame, with no need for straps. The result is lighter and stronger than other frame bags. That yellow fabric glows to assist in finding things at night.

Beautiful fork on the Hunter.

The rear rack of the Hunter is removable. Smooth clean lines on everything. Not quite as long as a Big Dummy, this bike should be a bit more nimble off road. 

Fat front, full suspension. Fat was definitely a recurring theme.

Another fattie, this is the same Reeb that I encountered a short while ago. There were many bikes sporting the Gates Carbon Drive everywhere I looked. 

A trio of Independent Fabrications 29ers. The paint was so glossy that it appeared wet.

This Ti Cycles electric assist bakfiets had a lot of things going on.

Some bikes have flask cages. This one had a cage to hold a full-sized 750 ml bottle of scotch. Note the Gates Belt Drive.

I remember Funk as a Denver area custom builder in the late '80s. They are still kicking with this nicely executed 29+ front, fat rear bike. 

This English Cycles 29er has gracefully arced top tube to seatstays.

Another beautiful English, that is probably very fast in the right hands. I'll have to say that the required riding posture would probably rip me in half.  

This Andy Peirce had the best flowing lines of any bike at the show, and this was my favorite tandem. The colors and craftmanship were astounding. I have to get better pics tomorrow. That's Andy on the left.

Andy Hampsten, second from the left, and his eponymous bike.

It's easy to see the inspiration for his modern bikes from his Huffy-branded vintage race bike from the 7-11 team glory days.

Vibe fatbike with some extreme copper plating.

The Vibe's copper theme is carried through on the custom flask.

Vibe's custom integrated tail light.

Avery Cycles of Denver had a very clean bike with a velvety blue matte finish.

The Moots IMBA trail bike

Alright, we've arrived to the philosophical reckoning section of my NAHBS experience. As a precursor, I have to say that every bike at the show was terrific in its own way, and many incorporated some ingenious elements; it's just not possible to get to this level otherwise. However, along with stunning beauty and craftsmanship, I think that an event of this caliber requires a bit more from builders in order to rise to a peak among their peers. For me, that something extra is the conceptual underpinnings of a bike's design. It is that ethereal something that a builder weaves into the construction of the bike itself. It's something that inspires those who see the bike to absorb its encapsulated concept, perhaps learn and grow from it, and even to carry it to action. The Moots IMBA trail bike does just that.

At the show, I overheard several people comment on the "chainsaw bike." True, it has a chainsaw on the rear rack. Obviously, most bikes do not. What makes this bike different is not the chainsaw specifically, but that it encourages an expansion of view beyond trail riding, to both trail building and toward community building. IMBA has long supported stewardship and responsibility for off-road bicyclists; an admirable effort perfectly embodied in this bike. Key elements of a trail building experience are there: a range of tools for the labor of trail work and a beer carrier for reward following hard work, all wrapped into a capable trail bike born of the pride of superior craftsmanship. The assembled form is acknowledgement of the collective efforts of a community to build and improve itself, and to shoulder its share of responsibilities for all trail users.

A second conceptual layer for me is that Moots chose to build the IMBA trail bike around the design parameters embodied within the Surly Krampus 29+, which, from my encounter with a Krampus last Fall, I feel is emblematic of the next generation of trail bikes. This perception was strongly supported by many of the bikes that I saw at the show; fat 29+ wheels and tires, comfortably swept wide handlebars, and simplified drivetrains, all coupled with varying capacity for racks, packs and cargo. Conspicuous racing pedigree or intent was largely absent. Amid the synesthesia-inducing environment of the show, these features came into focus among many of the off-road bikes. It is perhaps a signal to a return to the roots of what it means to venture off road on a bike; it is to experience the journey as the destination.

These ideas are at the core of why the Moots IMBA bike struck me as impressive even among all the other amazing bikes. And with that, I'll return to more bike photos.

Yes, that is several linear feet of curvy titanium tubing, not the least of which is that gloriously wide handlebar. Masterful Porcelain Rocket bags.

See the theme? Again, this is another longtail fatbike. The idea makes a lot of sense for a lot of reasons. 

Handles and heads for a functional pulaski/shovel are integrated into the front rack. Yep, it holds beer, too.

I would love to take a ride to check out that wide bar.

Superb attention to detail; craftsmanship bar none.

The insert panel reads, "Routt County Riders," the locale of Moots in Steamboat Springs. The IMBA logo is on the other side.

Moots again.

Incredible artistic detail on these Ventus lugs. 

The paint on this Ground Up looked like candy.

An elegant Legacy Frameworks mixte.

The chrome and blue of this Ellis is a perfect match. Really looks like a capable bike.

These Zambikes were specially designed to increase bike accessibility in the developing world.

A Sycip of classic, functional form.

Bilenky had some bikes with incredible paint.

Bike icon Tom Ritchey is on the right, in front of his Break-Away tandem. 

I've long admired Retrotec bikes. This was another of my favorites of the show. A Retrotec 29+ beautifully built around the conceptual heart of a Surly Krampus. Curtis Inglis, the builder, is in green. Tracy stands mesmerized, at left.

A Boo fatbike from nearby Fort Collins. The swoopy fork has nice lines. 

The svelte titanium bar/stem combo on the Boo harkens to the days of the bull moose bar. 

Bikepacking also figured prominently, as in this Cielo.

The bar on the Cielo. I'm really liking the utility of an extended crossbar, appearing with some frequency on several bikes. 

YiPsan bikes of Fort Collins; the builder is at center.

This Donkelope had a whimsical, 18th century vibe. That's some sort of retrofitted carbide bike lamp up front. 

Breadwinner Bikes, from a duo of Portland's custom superstars.

Breadwinner's built-in u-lock system.

One of the Masi bikes used in the movie Breaking Away, a perpetual favorite of many a bike nut like me.

This Co-Motion tandem has dual Gates Carbon Drives. Gates is a historic Denver company and key sponsor of the event.

Great classic styling in these Kohak bikes from Japan.

A sleek, chromed Masi.

Fine flowing lines of a fatbike made by Black Sheep from Fort Collins.

Nice pink rims on this Twenty2.

I didn't quite capture the full name of this very masterfully brazed bike, but the young Japanese builder was a charismatic fellow.  

This Hunter was another that I quite liked, with a style and camo paintjob likely inspired by the popularity of similar features in the early days of mountain bikes. Another bike that Nicholas would probably enjoy.

I spent part of the afternoon talking with Cass Gilbert of while out riding. He and his Stumpjumper are new to each other, but he is not new to adventure biking. He has gained some fascinating perspectives while riding much of the world, including my Peace Corps service country of Kyrgyzstan.

Like floating on a squeaky cloud

We finally received some much needed snow last night, and awoke to a winter wonderland. Of course, Scout and I were out at our earliest possibility for a ride. The snow was powdery, and at the perfect consistency to squeak as it was compressed under the tires.

Riding over four or five inches of powder is terrific fun. I spent much of the time carving swooping arcs and figures into a pristine white blanket. For those of you who are traveling from other states to the NAHBS, the roads around here seem to be fairly good, but may become icy later in the day.

Fatbike and dog tracks. Note the indentations from my pedals. 

It's 1984 all over again

During one of our area's few encounters with snow this year.

The title of this post refers to a recurring statement and general theme of Nicholas, the wunderkind behind gypsy by trade, regarding similarities of the current, quickly rising tide of interest in fatbikes to that of mountain bikes during the early 1980s. For those who are unaware, Nicholas is an adventurer and fatbiker of the highest caliber, who spent last year on a Surly Pugsley, riding through an Anchorage winter, then on to Canada, the Continental Divide Trail, the Colorado Trail and down to Albuquerque to spend this winter. Although he wasn't even alive yet during the heyday of those early mountain biking years, he is in perhaps the best position of anyone I know to have formed the observation underlying his statement.

What prompted me to write this post was that I encountered the first popular media news item that I had seen about fatbikes as being more than just snow bikes. It was on the Denver CBS affiliate's website. I don't ordinarily post things that I didn't produce myself, but as this is merely a link to a story about fatbikes in the popular media, I don't think I've violated my internally imposed guidelines. Although there are one or two items stated in the story that I might call into question, it was generally an honest attempt to illustrate how people are beginning to use fatbikes. The most serious quibble I might have is that although the tires are bigger, the trail impact is smaller, that is more minimal, than a typical mountain bike. It could just be the phrasing playing off the immensity of the tires as used in the article, that might indicate otherwise. To the reporter's credit, the story diligently sought out some people who are in positions from which they may reasonably understand and describe the potential of fatbikes. Overall, the CBS story does well in noting the increasing interest for and presence of fatbikes in use year around, the growing industry segment related to fatbikes, and the developing movement to ensure access to places to ride them.

Baby got back. Here's a 4.8" Surly Lou that I saw at Surly's Unicorn event last year.
Hey Surly guys: How about naming an upcoming tire "Sir Mix A Lot"? You know you want to...

Incidentally, the CBS story contained mention of Reeb bikes, an in-house boutique bike project of the Oskar Blues Brewery in nearby Longmont. 'Reeb' is cleverly 'beer' spelled backwards. I encountered my first Reeb fatbike last week at the Colorado Bike Summit. This particular Reeb was a real gem, in clear powder-coated steel and featuring a Gates Carbon Drive belt drivetrain on an internally geared hub, and shod with Big Fat Larry tires. Fittingly, the bike was built for the upcoming North American Handmade Bicycle Show coming later this week to Denver. As an old guy, I spaced on having a camera in my phone, so no photo. I apologize for failing my legions of readers.

I will say, however, that there are a few photos of me sitting on the Reeb out there somewhere, as I apparently looked excited enough that a photographer covering the event asked me to sit on the bike for a few shots. The Reeb had no pedals, and the nice engineer at the Gates Carbon Drive booth hosting the bike gave me a more-than-slightly-concerned look as if to say, "Dude, it could cost my job if you break it," so I don't have a ride report. Too bad, as it felt to be just my size. I will seek the Reeb out during the NAHBS and rectify the lack of photos.

Nope, not the Reeb. It's my faithful and fun Neck Ro Pug, though. 

In any case, returning to the main point of this post is that fatbikes seem poised to hit big in the next year or two, in a manner similar to the first wave of production mountain bikes. They really are that different, and even more fun than you might imagine. My Pugsley has quickly gone to the top of my list of the plethora of bikes from which I may select to ride on any given day. Of the real world and netherworld fellow bike aficionados with whom I share a similar orbit, most have been bitten by the fatbike bug. From my semi-scientific reckoning, around half have made the plunge into fatbikes, and nearly everyone else would desire to follow, should they be able to clear any financial or spousal barriers to doing so. As with just about anything else bike-related, my advice to anyone even considering going fat is, "Go for it." What was true back in '84, is even more so now. The fatter, the funner.

Unrelated bonus photo: This is evidence of the risk one might run when attempting to take a photo of a baby in the presence of a curious dog.

56 days and counting

Things have been lax around the old blog as of late. That generally means that life has gotten busy, which is the case again this time around. However, I've not been so busy as to miss riding at least once a day. Today is the 56th consecutive day that I've ridden a bike, whether for transportation, fun or some combination of the two. Regardless of the type of biking that I do in any given day, I always share a ride with Scout at some point. It's gotten so that she expects a ride, and probably wouldn't allow me to forget.