Horsethief!

2013 Salsa Horsethief 2, size XL (22").

Yes, this is the tale of another bike acquisition, but it requires a bit of a back story for explanation. As some of you may recall, last year I embarked on a project to reduce the size of my fleet a bit. That project was largely successful, in that I reduced my number of bikes by eight; mostly bikes that didn't see much riding, or I hadn't mustered my interest in building them out to loftier visions. It's been a productive project, but it is by no means complete.

That said, one of the bikes with which I parted ways, I quickly came to regret selling. It was a 2006 Specialized Stumpjumper FSR, that I picked up for cheap and on a whim in 2012. As my most recent investigation into the world of full suspension wonderbikes (the only in the past decade or so), I was amazed at its capabilities compared to my previous experiences on suspended bikes. With 120 mm of very well managed travel front and rear, it was an exceedingly fun bike to ride anywhere uneven surfaces abounded. The only real problem was that as a size large frame (with a 19" seat tube and ~23" effective top tube) it was at the bottom end of the gradient of comfortable sizing for me. I might have been able to bring the fit closer in line with a longer seatpost and stem, but in an overzealous fit of possession reduction, I sold it on Craigslist for less that what I should have allowed it to go.

My dear departed 2006 Stumpy FSR. :-(

Shortly thereafter, in my bereavement I picked up a used Redline Monocog 29er frame in size XL (21"); a 29er being something I hadn't previously owned, but the concept of which was highly appealing. This experience has turned out to be astoundingly good. With a frame of ordinary straight gauge 4130 steel, the Monocog 29er has become among my favorite bikes ever. It fits me as if it were custom made, and has a terrific, lively yet stolid ride quality. Yes, I know the Monocog's heft approaches that of a bull rhinoceros and to label its refinement as lowbrow is being more than generous. However, it is truly an example of the whole being inexplicably more than the sum of its parts.

My prized 2008 Redline Monocog 29er, shortly after I built it.

Last fall, Nicholas and Lael passed through town on their way to parts West. They had just finished a long off road tour of Europe and were buzzing about the all the singletrack and great trails they had ridden, and postulating the fun to be had on a full suspension, long travel 29er. The Salsa Horsethief was mentioned, along with a few other examples of the emerging 29-inch enduro lineage. This encounter got me to thinking about the fun of my departed Stumpy FSR, and how it could be improved upon. An idea was implanted, not to actively seek out such a bike, but if one were to come along, I would try not to miss it.

Spring flowers along the trail.

Fast forward to a couple of months ago, when I discovered that a local bike shop had a few 2013 Salsa Horsethieves on a huge discount in anticipation of the arrival of the new 2014 frame design. Flush with cash from my bike depletion project, I pounced. I test rode both the Horsethief 3 in size large and the Horsethief 2 in size XL. Though I am in between sizes and could have reasonably ridden either size, I went with the one that fit most like my Monocog.

In general, the Horsethief is an amazing bike, and every bit the wonderbike that was the Stumpy, with a few well appreciated improvements. It fits me better and is at least as fun to ride. It has 120 mm of travel front and rear, but with the 29 inch wheels, it somehow seems even more plush. I have a few rides under my belt, and I need a few more to fully develop a thoughtful critique of the Horsethief, but the overall impression is definitely positive. Several annotated detail photos follow.

The Horsethief moniker is taken from the famed Horsethief Bench trail in Western Colorado.

Beautifully executed headbadge on a tapered headtube. Conceptually, I like the 44 mm idea better. If you're going to go big, go big.

The flexy part of the Horsethief seatstays. The absence of this built-in flex is the most substantial change incorporated into the 2014 design. 

White Brothers Loop fork, set to 120 mm. It is adjustable between 80 and 140 mm with some minor parts swaps. The ride and quality seem on par with the best of Fox or Rock Shox, and it is made right here in Colorado.

Adventure by bike.

This is my first experience with a complete SRAM drivetrain, in this case X9 2x10. So far, it has been flawless. My first time with a 142x12 rear axle, which makes a lot of sense on a suspended bike. 

The MRP dual ring chain guide keeps chain slap to a minimum. 

Fox Float CTD rear shock has much the same feel as the Fox Triad did on my old Stumpy, and by that I mean that it provides a great ride on any setting. 

I find that the "Trail" setting works just about perfectly for anything short of a fast and rocky downhill that I've encountered thus far, climbing included.

With Conti 2.4" tires, there is plenty of fork clearance. Enough for 3 inch tires? I'm not likely to find out any time soon.

Clearance in the rear seems to be a bit less, but still more than adequate. 

Here's a visual of the clearance at the chainstay bridge. Clearance all around is more than on the Stumpy. 

Ten cogs on the cassette. Avid hydraulic brakes have been powerful and dependable so far.

This is my first brand new mountain bike since 1997. While I'm sure that the 2014 model is an amazing feat of engineering, the 2013 is no slouch, and at about a 50% discount it's a great deal. It is way more bike than I'll ever need, but there is a comfort in knowing that it's going to be able to handle anything I encounter. It also doesn't hurt that it's quite a looker, with a rich glossy blue that isn't fully able to be captured in a photo.

As sister companies under the QBP mother hen, Salsa and Surly have related, yet differing philosophies on bike design, frame materials, and the meaning of a bicycling life. Perhaps their sibling rivalry is part of why they are two of the most innovative companies in the bicycle industry at present. Bike companies are producers of consumer goods, and bikes are inanimate objects. However, I count myself among a segment of the population who invest meaning, perhaps not always able to be rationally defined, into the riding experience. For a long time, I've had an appreciation for Surly in this regard, in the position of bikes as a central element of my life rather than mere tools for competition or athleticism. I think I'm developing a similar appreciation for Salsa, and their "Adventure by Bike" ethos. The Horsethief will undoubtedly lead me to adventure.

The backdrop for the above photos was a ride I took at the Hildebrand Ranch Park, an easily accessed open space next to the foothills.

Swoopy trail curving along the hills like a bobsled run.

I also rode in the neighboring South Valley Park, home of some pretty impressive rock formations.

That building near the foothills is part of the Lockheed Martin complex where aerospace materials are developed. That would be a great location for work to get out for lunchtime rides. 

Lots of great trailside geology and some archeological tidbits.

Dirt bike dog

This past weekend I was traveling, and was fortunate enough to fit in a couple of rides in Wyoming. Trails abound in the least populated state, and as might be expected, are often empty. Scout and I did our best to cover as much ground as we could. Just like when I was a kid on a ranch, the best compadre to have in such a setting is a dog who loves the dirt.

Our summit photo.

Cool shirt courtesy of Monkey Wrench Cycles.

Following a dip in the water near the end of the ride.

A little trail riding after a day of driving

I've been on the road all day on the way to a work-related conference. As it happens, it's being held in Salt Lake City, which is close enough to where my in-laws live in Wyoming that I stopped at their house for the night.

After a great burrito dinner with my father-in-law, Scout and I took a ride on the network of ATV trails criss-crossing the hills behind their house. While I would've ridden better without a big burrito on board, the system of trails was just the ticket after a day in the car. I'm not a big fan of noisy, dusty, overly powerful ATVs, but their activity does result in some pretty great double tracks.

The small town instant access to riding off road makes me really feel like moving out of the city. If I had trails like this in my back yard, I'd be on them all the time. I pretty sure Scout would, too.

Albuquerque off road

My brother's giant Surly Ogre, and my Stumpjumper FSR, perhaps slightly-too-small for its rider.

The weekend before last, we made a quick trip down to New Mexico for a niece's fifth birthday party. While there, my brother Chris and I snuck out to do a little riding in the foothills to the East of town. Needless to say, it was a lot of fun.

My bike for the trip was my 2006 Stumpjumper FSR. I still haven't decided whether I'll keep it, so I thought that it might be a good opportunity for further evaluation. Plus, it was a lot easier to fit in the van than the Pugsley. I made sure I was equipped with tools, tubes and water, but somehow overlooked until too late that there would likely be any number of things along the trail to make pincushions of the tires. The Stumpjumper has non-slimed, standard-tubed tires. I decided to tempt fate anyway.

The dam at the trailhead.

Cholla: beautiful but barbed. 

Prickly pear in bloom.

The day of the ride was uncharacteristically overcast, which was quite welcome to me as I wasn't ready to plunge into hardcore heat just yet. We started with a few miles worth of easy climbing, peppered with a few breaks to look at flora and fauna. As anticipated, there was no shortage of several kinds of cacti, but to my relief, none of the dreaded goat head thorns seemed to be around. Provided a rider pays attention, cactus is not too difficult to avoid, but an area strewn with goatheads is much more problematic.

Climbing...

Sweating...

Embedded rock gardens to keep things lively.

Lots of rollers, but trending unmistakably upward.

The trail surface was varied between gravelly, rocky, and sandy, and the views were great. There was also quite a bit of fauna to see among the flora, though some required a keen eye to see. The terrain rolled by and after an hour or so of climbing with a few small descents sprinkled in, we made it to the apex of our route.

A bull snake sunning itself on the trail. 

The area has a vast network of well-marked trails, some of which are part of the Albuquerque Parks system and others of the U.S. Forest Service.

I found these concrete waffles to be an ingenious tool to mitigate erosion and maintain trail integrity.  

My brother often runs these trails, though I can't help but think of knobby tires when I see views like this. 

On my Stumpjumper, the descent was fast and swoopy; pure dust in the teeth fun. I was halfway down before I remembered to switch the rear shock from the stiffer "ProPedal" setting to the luxurious "Open" setting. With the shock in "Open", the bike makes me feel nearly invincible, in a fun but potentially dangerous way. If I had a bike like this in my pre mortality-conscious days of 20 years ago, I would have really been able to get myself in a lot of trouble. As it is now, I get to glimpse blinding speed and superhero status with the foresight to pull back before it is too late.

One of the few places on the way back down that I had to stop and wait for Chris to tell me which way to go.

Difficult to see with my lousy phone cam pic, but there's a lizard in the lower right third of this photo.

A view of town below.

We took a few minutes to mess around on a concrete drainage ditch with slanted sides. 

As kids on BMX bikes 30 years ago, we would have been all over this thing. As 40-something old guys, we were a bit more measured, but still had some fun.

In the end, I made it through the ride without getting a flat, but I also became convinced that tubeless tires are the way to go. I would have spent a bit more time having fun and a bit less thinking about the needles everywhere. Overall, the Stumpjumper performed flawlessly, and has further muddied my opinion as to whether to keep it.

On the positive, it is a well-engineered superbike (at least for 7 years ago, which is new enough for me) that I picked up on the cheap; something of which I would/could never buy the full-priced new equivalent. As a full-suspension bike, it really can do some things that I have to acknowledge a rigid bike can't. It is incredibly fast and fun to ride.

On the negative, it's a size large, which is borderline too small for me, and I remain convinced that a 29er is better proportioned for my height. As a full-suspension bike, it also has the hassles of shock and pivot maintenance. Though I've owned suspension before, there's a reason I gravitate back toward rigid. But it is cheap and fun.

So, I remain undecided, and will probably keep it for further evaluation, for at least the time being. That is, unless some fervent (size large) reader out there wants to make an offer I can't refuse to take it off my hands. Perhaps its parts will someday make their way to a 29er frame, for which I'll sell the Stumpy and Fox fork to finance.