I have a lot of thoughts on this, not least as someone who (
goes back to look at his very first post...) only joined this forum a little over a year ago, and now has three bikes in rotation and two more builds currently on the go!
(Whoops, look what you all did!)
So yeah, I'm already in deep.
When I joined this place I think I'd purchased my first frame, maybe the fork too. I'd set out with the simple goal of building from scratch the kind of bike I never had as a kid. I'm 80s-born, so one of the early-to-mid 90s generation, and my participation and specific interest in MTB stops almost entirely towards the end of that decade.
I can also tell you that in all the years since I was actively riding until the last couple, nothing I've seen from afar, from the industry to the bikes themselves, to the gear I'd see people riding in, has tempted me back into the saddle or workshop.
I didn't once lay eyes on a new mountain bike from across the road or hillside and think, "Cor, I really want to ride that thing! I should get back into bikes!"
It was old bikes from my childhood and teens, and the chance to own some of them, that brought me back. And that's because they hold a lot of power and outsize influence. Which is clearly the reason, or some version of it, for why we're all here, talking about this.
I've mentioned it elsewhere, but after the first two builds, I definitely sat down and outlined some goals in regards to my collecting (for want of a better word) and riding. I tried to limit myself in a focussed but open and interesting way, so that I didn't go out of control with purchases and say yes to every exciting or tempting thing that might come my way. Basically, I made of list of builders and bikes and years. Nothing crazy, nothing unrealistic; just longterm goals. Now, does that list keep shifting and growing? Of course. The more you learn the more you want. But so far it's helping me keep on track and things in check.
The hardest, weirdest thing is that, of that short list, three different unicorns, for different reasons, have all arrived on my doorstep or within my reach in the past six months. I didn't expect that! I can't afford that! But hey, I'm rolling with it for now.
And I can honestly say, without hyperbole, that following this desire, this hobby, has already become all consuming, but also, critically, one of the most pleasurable things I've done in my entire adult life. (I would say "the most" but there are a few other longterm endeavors I'd feel like I was cheating on if I did.) I enjoy every aspect of this (except coming up with the money for it); from researching and learning from all the people in communities like this, to searching for bikes and parts in person and online, to building and wrenching, to talking about bikes and riding them! Especially riding them! There's no part of this that doesn't fill me with happiness, accomplishment and excitement, and no time when I don't feel inspired to keep going for what's maybe around the next corner.
It's like therapy, most of the time.
Now, the more I ride the more I wonder: Will I ever buy a modern bike?
If you'd asked me in December of 2020 I would have said little to no chance, but these days, riding now almost every day, I think it's probably a fair shout that I'll end up on something modern eventually (modern, like, within the past 20 years
). But I would still bet money that modern bike won't be an outright MTB.
I'm sure they ride amazing; I'm sure they handle bike parks and harsh terrain beautifully; I'm sure, once you get used the geometry and bars wider than the gap between the working class and the oligarchs and technobillionaires controlling us (
oooooh, political!), you feel much more confident on those same trails you've been riding every day on something from 30 years ago instead.
But... Do I care? Does looking at one in the corner of the room, or beneath me as I ride it, fill me with admiration and excitement? Because, honestly, that's what gets me out riding: the excitement of owning the bikes I've now built. I still can't believe it half the time. I'm not trying to get faster, better. That's not what I'm in it for. I'm in it to find and build something that gets my blood pumping and brain going; to ride ancient beautiful machines built by love and skill by people who really, REALLY cared about what they were doing. It's the craft and innovation that excites me. Not how high or how far or how fast I can go with it (don't get me wrong though, I'll still smoke you out there in those woods!).
Maybe one day I'll want something modern, but I bet it closely follows old geometries and technologies, as I'd rather have someone talented build me something custom, that rides to my tastes, then invest all that money into technology that doesn't excite me.
I can imagine wanting something like that one day, something maybe a little more reliable for a certain type of ride, but right now, the only reason for going that route in my mind is to lessen the pressure and stress I'm putting daily on rare and increasingly expensive parts. But I'd still have to love it for whatever reason, and it would have to tick all those same boxes old bikes do. Because I'd rather love what I'm riding, and destroy it, then keep it locked away untouched. And all for a safer bet that leaves me cold and soft in its place beneath me.
I mean, any one of us madmen who willingly chooses to stick an old saddle on a regular rider is clearly already long since lost to this particular cause!
