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.

Road trip

Just one of the thousands of pristine gravel roads of North Dakota.

In the early part of the month, we took a little over a week to go on a road trip. We ventured northward through Colorado, across Wyoming and southeastern Montana, western South Dakota and sliced through North Dakota diagonally from southwest to northeast. The objectives were alternately to visit relatives and sightsee along the way. Of course, I brought some wheels; my single-speed Surly Cross-Check serving as my do-it-all machine. As of today, I'm up to 238 consecutive days of riding a bike.

The iconic bronze tyrannosaur in front of the University of Wyoming's Geological Museum in Laramie.

Helping Grandpa feed a calf at his ranch.

Riding in the buddy seat on one of Grandpa's tractors.

This was as close as we got to Devil's Tower, as the day we came through it was swamped with motorcycle riders from the nearby Sturgis rally.

Examining an archaeological artifact on the Wyoming prairie. 

Scout loved running along on rides without the need for a harness.

Quarter-sized hail fell one afternoon.

Practicing cowgirl skills by roping the fence with her new lariat while sporting boots and spurs.

For much of our trip, the weather was uncharacteristically cool and damp. I can't remember an August that's been so green and rainy in this part of the world. Although an aberration, the weather generally made for pleasant days outside, though we found that we didn't pack enough warmer clothes.

Exploring in Makoshika State Park, Montana.

Posing with Salem Sue, the world's largest Holstein cow, New Salem, ND.

On a pedestrian bridge across the Yellowstone River.

I always found time to fit in a daily ride.

With two kids, one of whom is definitely still in the pre reasoning and/or bargaining phase, we took things slow and made lots of stops. We rarely passed places where ice cream was obviously being sold without stopping. Not a bad travel philosophy, actually.

Bull riding at King Ropes, Sheridan, WY.

A late afternoon meltdown at the Fort McKeen blockhouses, Fort Lincoln State Park, Mandan, ND.

Railroad bridge across the Missouri River, Bismark, ND.

Splashing in the Missouri River.

Once we were approaching the family reunion destination in northeastern North Dakota, the girls dropped me off and I rode the rest of the way. For years, I'd been hoping to ride some of the gravel roads in the area, and I thought my single-speed Cross-Check would be a good choice. As it turns out, it did fairly well on the gravel with 38 mm tires, but I wasn't entirely satisfied with its suitability.

The Cross-Check has always been a good semi-rough conditions, semi-road-ish bike; in fact its capacity to serve these purposes were why I first bought it. Of my many bikes, I've generally thought of the CC as being my best general purpose all-rounder. However, my tastes may have changed in the decade plus since I've had the bike. Though it rode well on many sections of the gravel roads I encountered, there were times when I would have liked to have had some wider tread. In turns where the gravel was deep, the CC's footing felt less than confidence inspiring. At other times, when the gravel was comprised of larger pieces, the front tire popped back and forth between rocks like a pinball.

I know that my perceptions are colored by the many miles I've ridden recently on fatter tires, primarily on a Big Dummy with 26 x 2.2 knobbies and a Pugsley with 26 x 3.8 fatties, and that I've never really been a road bike rider. Yet, I kept thinking about how a 29er with fatter tires would have done anything the CC did at least as well, and would have been more enjoyable for most of the riding I did during the trip, especially on gravel. I suppose I like the concept of sorta-fat tires on a road bike, but in practice, I like the practicality of actually fat tires on an all-terrain bike. For anything other than pavement riding, I think 2.0+ 29er tires trump pseudo fat tires, no matter how much wider they appear to be compared to standard skinny road tires. This is not to disparage the CC or tires narrower than 50 mm, just an observation of my evolving perceptions and lifelong gravitation toward meatier tread. It all amounts to more evidence to support a 29er (or 29+) in my future.

Much of North Dakota looks basically like this in any direction.

Verdant crops are omnipresent. 

The bean green Cross-Check blends into the landscape.

Though I didn't really do any bikepacking, I did get to do a little bike camping during the trip. I was able to strap everything I needed for a S8O (sub 8-hour overnight) to the CC, and Scout and I were off.  A town park, with the permission of a city council member, made for a pleasant camp spot. Across much of northern North Dakota and Minnesota, small towns are usually at 10 to 20 mile intervals. The geography of the area and the copious, lightly traveled roads make for endless possibilities to cross this part of the country by bike.

As with most road trips, near the end, we were ready to be home. The girls did well and had fun, and we learned how to improve our procedures along the way. Next time around, I hope to be able to take a little more time for a solo bike trip to explore a bit and meet up with the family along the way.

Playing along the banks of Spearfish Creek.

Fun with static electricity.

Will Specialized Fast Trak 29 x 2.0 tires fit a Surly Cross Check?

The tires look meaty and tough on the bike, but neither wheel will roll without buzzing contact with the frame and fork.

Uhh... nope. Not quite. After his recent visit, Nick left me a pair of Specialized Fast Trak Sport 29 x 2.0 tires. Though a little worn, they're nice tires with plenty of rubber left and a fast looking tread pattern. It was the perfect opportunity to see if a skinny (by current standards) 29er tire would have a chance of fitting my 58 cm 2001 Surly Cross Check. I did a little preliminary research and found reports of some success in fitting 50 mm Schwalbe Big Apples, and a couple of random 1.95 inch 29er tires on Cross Checks, but couldn't find anyone on the whole internet who had tried Fast Trak 2.0s. So here I am to provide that public service.

The results: close, but no cigar. The tires mounted on 20 mm wide Mavic MA3 rims measured out to be almost exactly 50 mm to the outer profile of the knobs. Maybe if I shaved off all the side knobs and had perfectly true rims, there might be a millimeter or so of clearance on each side. I'm not willing to do that. Maybe. However, I've been wanting some fatter tires to replace the pair of nearly worn out Bontrager 38 mm tires (measures out to 34 mm mounted on my MA3s) that I've had on the Cross Check for a long time. Even though the experiment failed, it points to the likelihood that something in the 1.8" to 1.9" (approximately 46-48 mm) wide would be about the right amount of fatness. I could probably even fit fenders with the right tire. I know the 700 x 41 mm Surly Knard is a sure fit, and equates to about 1.6" wide. However, I'm convinced there's a skinny 29er tire out there that will have sufficient clearance, yet push the envelope just a bit more. We don't have a lot of mud here in Colorado, and I wouldn't be riding muddy trails on this bike anyway, so minimal clearance is fine in my book.

Fast Trak 29 x 2.0 on the front.

Mavic MA3, 20 mm wide, on both front and rear.

Plenty of top clearance, not enough side clearance in the fork.

Right fork leg.

Left fork leg. Tantalizingly close to clearing, if not for knobs.

Yep, still 2.0. No better luck in the rear.

Axle slammed rearward in the dropouts.

Close, but not quite clearing the chainstays. 

Seatstays close to clearing, but not. Less room below the brake bridge than below the fork crown, but still adequate.

A warm January day to spot other people's bikes

My bean green 2001 Surly Cross-Check

Today had a spring-like feel to it, even though we are in the middle of January and have just emerged from several days with high temperatures well below freezing. Such is Colorado weather. I celebrated the warmth by using the Cross-Check for my transport duties. It's been a bit neglected as of late, with much of my two-wheeled travel occurring via the much fatter tires of the Pugsley. However, the Cross-Check has an important feature that the Pugsley is currently lacking: fenders. With the day's melty conditions of the roads and trails, it was an easy choice.

While out, I happened upon an old-timer mountain bike and snapped a few pics. For years, I've taken photos of random bikes that I encounter, that for whatever reason intrigue me. I've featured a few here from time to time, often categorized as "seen on the road," but there are many others that remain buried in my computer. Until recently, I've been at a bit of a loss as to what to do with them. However, the Urban Adventure League blog has seemingly coined a category that could be a clearinghouse term in which to organize random photos of bikes captured in the wild: Other People's Bikes. I'm borrowing that idea to emulate here, starting with today's Elkhorn.

This circa 1984 Raleigh Elkhorn is a well-traveled survivor. Apologies for the less than spectacular photos.

A nice sloping crown fork with logo in relief, joined to Reynolds tubing. Ancient brake pads, but newer tires.

Suntour Power Ratchet shifters on a bullmoose handlebar. The bar still has a sticker proclaiming it to be made of Cro-Mo, which looks to have been meant to be temporarily placed, for showroom purposes. 

Imprinted seatstay caps and an intact original reflector. Likely original cables and housing as well. 

The drivetrain side was a bit difficult to shoot with another bike parked nearby. A mix of Shimano AG and Sugino. Note the newer cheapo Specialized replacement saddle cocked at a downward angle.

I've long appreciated spotting old relic bikes out in the wild and capturing them in photos, much like how birders seek out and record elusive specimens. It's good to know there are other bike-fixated guys out there who validate my eccentricities by doing likewise.

In the case of old bikes seen out and about and that are still in use, I tend to analyze what I observe. I often wonder if the owner is similarly appreciative of the bike for aesthetic or mechanical purposes, or if the bike is just a generic tool of utility. Something of the owner's perspective can be discerned by evaluating a bike's appearance. A bike that is well squared away may signal a doting owner. Neglect or disdain for the bike on the part of the owner is equally as obvious.

In the case of this particular Raleigh Elkhorn, the story likely falls somewhere in between. It would appear as though some degree of benign neglect is in play here, yet maintenance is performed when absolutely necessary. A few newer parts have replaced older parts, but with little concern for quality or proper adjustment. I would predict that the owner of this bike likely regards it as an object with little inherent importance or value other than for its utility. That the bike is still in operating condition with little apparent upkeep after nearly three decades, is a credit to its design and construction, and to its owner, who may be ambivalent to the bike itself, but actually uses it. May the bike and its rider both have many more miles ahead.