With Bar Ends Upon Thars

A few years ago, when I first started riding a mountain bike, I had a sound but unremarkable stock hardtail. I put some inexpensive Nashbar bar ends on, because that's what a friend who knew more than I did at the time advised. I liked them. They provided a variety of hand positions that relieved fatigue. And they let me get a few inches farther forward on the steep climbs, which was very helpful.

Then as I started reading the bike press - Dirtrag, MBA, MTBR, MBR, and what have you - I learned that bar ends were not cool. They were especially not cool on riser bars (which I had) and for people who were not XC racers (which I wasn't). I learned that I didn't really need bar ends. They were a holdover, an anachronism, a vestige. Wider bars with rise and generous back sweep obviated the need for them. "Just keep your wrists down and you'll be good," was the lesson.

When I got my next bike, a huge leap up in sophistication, I did not get bar ends. I wanted to be one of the cool kids. I found I could get up the climbs without them, if not quite as happily. On long rides, though, I deeply missed the option of being able to rotate my hands ninety degrees, and the change of torso angle that those couple inches of extension provided.

After a couple more years of riding I had more confidence in my own skills and preferences. I decided I wanted to try bar ends again. My new bike had a fancy carbon bar. I learned pretty quickly that the manufacturer did not support using bar ends on their carbon bars. No reinforcements to resist the crushing force of the clamps or, potentially, their scoring edges. Crap.

After another year I bit the bullet and bought a new bar that would support bar ends, and new Braids Jr. ends. Wow. What a HUGE difference. I was SO much more comfortable on the bike. I was worried that I would start catching saplings with them, but as it has turned out that only happens about once a year. More often than not, the inward angle makes them act as a kind of shield for my knuckles, actually saving me some tree-related pain, rather than causing it. Since making this move I have never for a moment looked back. I am a much happier rider with my bar ends. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

- q

see also Dr. Seuss's The Sneetches.

Brilliant on Friday, Klutz on Sunday

I was riding really well on Friday evening. Just three of us. In the first half hour I cleaned two sections on which I average well under .500. I was floating over the bike, flowing with the terrain. On the last turny and undulating section I was drifting in the loam and the pine needles like a downhiller: chin and shoulder diving into the turns, head up, knee out, bike leaned way over, unconcerned about the skipping and skidding due to my excessive speed. I just knew that the knobbies would hook up and I would be good. And I was.

This morning, only 36 hours later, I again rode with two (different) friends. What happened to my Friday skills? It was like I hadn’t ridden in a year. Instead of friendly stars flying by excitingly at warp speed, the saplings were scary and hard and out for blood. I had to scrub all kinds of speed to keep them at bay. I went down twice in the first half hour because of stupid errors. The first time I braked hard for a sharp left that I was late for. Once around the turn, a small hole faced me immediately. Routine. But instead of letting go of the levers altogether and pushing the fork down into the hole so it could roll out nicely, I managed to grab some panicky front brake, forcing an instant graceless dismount. A few minutes later I came around a tight uphill corner with several greasy roots underfoot – a corner I’ve ridden a hundred times. I was feeling confident and strong. I leaned in hard – not just the bike but my whole body. Predictable result: The bike skated and I went down fast and hard on my hip.

Why does this happen?