Friday, June 30, 2006

Sorry seems to be the hardest word

Back in 2002, I bought a 222 off one of Jason's northern chums, because he'd done his back in while doing up his shoelaces in Lanzarote. For a while, this meant I had the best DH bike of all the Stopa crew; at the time Jason had his banana yellow Bullit*, and everyone else had tiddly little things like Rocky Mountain Switches and the like.
Well, I say the best bike. Never mind the lack of ability of the pilot, this thing had a pair of Shivers on the front, and Hope brakes front and rear, so that probably made it the best frame that any of us had. Plus it was kitted out with Big Uns, 321 rims and every other heavy bit of kit you could find, and although I'm scrawnier now than I was back then, it was still the kind of beast that went where it felt like, with minimal input from me.

Eventually everyone had been through at least one 222, so I felt maybe mine needed smartening up. Plus I was getting all sorts of abuse for running Shivers, which at the time I tried to ignore. As far as I could tell, they were forks, right, and they moved up and down, and I wasn't being a slave to fashion and running Boxxers like everyone else. Hell, I was so loyal I even got the Mojo cartridge put in, which made them super plush for all of five minutes on the trail. (Although it did at least stop that awful spike that Shivers have, half way through the travel...)

But peer pressure got too much, and so off I went to Leeds to buy another 222, this time with Boxxers on the front. Yes, I know, I could have just bought some forks, but that ignores the natural magpie tendency of all mountain bikers. I was happily following in the footsteps of Rik here, who popped out to buy a pair of Boxxers and came back with James Allaway's old 222 and fifteen different wheels (which saves him a lot of time on changing tyres, mind).
My old 222 I sold to a guy I work with who has a chalet in the Alps (I think you can see my motivation here - lots of free weekends to chairlift heaven).

So the week after I sold him the old 222, my mate goes riding on one of those idiotic mountain scooter things, falls off and knacks his wrist, so he's off for three months and the 222 goes and sits in his shed.
A year or two pass...

The Pugilist flogs me a Push'd Fox RC to replace the crappy Rock Shox unit I've got on the 222. Tim Flooks sends one of those letters suggesting you change the oil in your Boxxers more than once a century. Sorry Tim, that's your job as far as I'm concerned. The Shimano XT brakes carry on just fine, although they eat pads pretty fast. Unlike Hope, which are great for about a year and then become (ssh!) a very little bit shit and never quite get back to where they should have been before.

So finally my chum decides it's time we went riding again, and I'm a bit worried about the old 222, because as far as I can remember I sold it to him without working brakes, and it's been gathering dust for a year and a half. So I offer to give his bike a check up. (If you know me, the irony of me giving somebody else mechanical assistance has probably been enough for you to have a fit and be currently coughing up blood).

Once I realise he's wound the preload FULLY ON for no reason apart from "it makes the spring smaller! wee!" and I've replaced the handlebars that he bent (how? they're 24-7 Dark Angels, which feel like they were machined from solid billet, not tubing), I take it for a ride. Just round the block, off a few curbs, mind.

And then I realise. It really does handle like shit. I'm not sure if it's the two-tonne 24-7 stem on there, or the Shivers being a bit too long and far too heavy, or the fact that it's still built up with every fatbag component you could think of, but it's a complete dog. All the time people were telling me my bike was set up awfully, they were right, and I was too obstinate to change. (Not that you'd have noticed, given my lacklustre riding).

So now I know how a 222 should be (because the one I have now is actually working fine in comparison - even with worn out bearings in the rear wheel and on the shock, and a leaky shock), I'm presented with a dilemma. Do I tell my friend that I've sold him a pup? And would I have gone much faster on a bike that weighed half as much?


* sorry, "Scuba". We'd get a lot of stick from Santa Cruz if we didn't point that out.