Now that I have all my late-winter smug bitchiness out of my system, here’s something nice: The Aberration
“Aberration” is not necessarily a positively connoted word. But it is the name some egg gave my old Raleigh XXIX (maybe he was referring to me?). And things need names.
It’s the bike I’m most interested in riding at this point in late winter, when everybody just wants to get out, when it’s too cold for fast road riding and too muddy for trails.
It’s, dare I say, just right for gravel** (see note below).
It started off like this:
2007, singlespeed, steel frame, 29 inch wheels at the beginning of the 29er revolution
Then it started turning into something else:
Notice the carbon fork and mismatched wheelset (which was fine with me, but horrified my friends). Not sure what happened to the PBR waterbottle or my svelte figure and matching shoulders.
Then the frame cracked, but it got warrantied quickly. Unfortunately, the replacement came in robin’s egg blue, which I got painted a manly UPS brown. It sat for awhile watching as I acquired these:
- Trek 69er (Trek’s early stab at a mullet)
- Scott Scale (shoulda kept it)
- Trek Stache (kept it)
- Knolly Warden (really shoulda kept it)
- Santa Cruz Hightower (spent more $ than I ever thought I would on a bike)
- Chromag Rootdown (now that the fork has been serviced, it rides like it was designed to)
- Vitus road bike (yes. a road bike. and yes, I wear lycra tights. go screw yourself. just don’t hit me)
Then I looked at the Aberration one day a couple of years ago, and the wheels started turning, Gears and new handlebars and shazam!! A new bike!
Now it is a droopy bar, cranky old fuck, like me.
I can take it just about anywhere, and it’s the oldest bike I own.
It’s got:
- Vittoria Mezcal 2.3 tires, which are quickly becoming cliche according to the COGnoscenti.
- WTB wheelset, probably too narrow for the tires but they’ve been working fine so far!
- Recently handed-down rigid aluminum fork (who even rides an aluminum fork? Hey, it was free!) that replaced a 10+ year old, never-serviced RockShox suspension fork
- Road BB7s (best brake ever made)
- PNW Coast handlebars, although I just saw these
- Bontrager stem, age and origin unknown
- Handlebar pads made out of slices of 1/4 inch sleeping pad. No need for suspension now!!
- Revelate frame bag which holds all the Athletic Brewing I could possibly need for a ride (how about a sponsorship, Athletic Brewing? Maybe just a discount? Sobriety aint cheap!)
- Old, rusty, serviceable brake rotor
The Aberration in a slightly older iteration:
- Seized Thomsen seatpost, which remains seized
- SRAM Apex doubletap drivetrain (I think)
- Crappy old saddle
- Crappy old SPD pedals recently upgraded to these with my REI dividends, cause I’m bougie and just don’t care
- 40mm Ramblers on which I ate shit
- Truvativ Crankset, which if you look closely, is the only remaining part in this ghost of a machine
Now that I’m done virtue signaling, what’s the takeaway? Well…
I could have been this guy. But if steel is real, then so is my rust!
Or I could’ve bought this because I’m retired and rich:
Even Canyon, LeBron’s favorite mail-order-bride bike company, has jumped on the hamster wheel:
Hell, I even remember Brandon Le talking with the Chromag guy in Whistler about how some people were creating a rust patina finish on their frames.
I guess it’s true: what goes ’round, comes ’round. Now, even road rides have to be disguised as gravel rides.
Everybody has an old frame hanging on the wall, and some people are resurrecting them. I’m part of that stereotype, bro. And it’s ok. You’re ok. We’re all ok.
It would just be nice if I had some gravel to ride on.
**Sometimes my friends and I are forced to “explore” the gravel roads and paths of Hinckley and the Cuyahoga Valley since it’s illegal to ride anywhere besides pavement in most of our parks.
In Michigan it takes about five minutes to find gravel roads, but in uptight Ohio you’ll get a ticket or worse for venturing off designated mountain bike trails or pavement.
So if you see me or my friends rambling on a “exploratory ride,” please aim high and trust that we’ll be gone without a trace.
Or maybe we’ll just stick around.
Travels with Pops 