I have been a people-pleaser all my life. And a huge part of my riding with others was because I never got respect for anything I did and most of the time, for no other reason than the fact that I am different, I was actively denied it. Mountainbike riding gave me acknowledgement, even though it came at a price. The fact that few people talk about is that a lot (not all of it, obviously) of the progression of a lot of riders is driven either by the need for acknowledgement or a rather narcisstic impulse. I did ride with a lot of narcisstic assholes, and, well, that seems to be, amongst a lot of awesome people, be a rather integral part of Mountainbike culture.
This leads to a rather unforgiving culture on a ride. You got an old bike? Of course there are always great and awesome groups who will always wait for you and encourage you. I have even been gifted old freeride bikes in order to have more fun, and, Totopete, if you read this, you should know that I never forgot that act of kindness. Others, however, see this as an opportunity to ride you to mincemeat to enlarge their tiny egos, and, unfortunately, the Club I helped found, while of course not exclusively so, developed into that category. So, when I was shopping for a frame, while I knew perfectly well that the Surly Troll, that rigid steel frame, might be the more sustainable option, I instead opted for a Dartmoor Primal Enduro frame with a big fork up front. And do not get me wrong, I did have a lot of fun with it, and it was more than adequate riding with the morons.
But my riding style changed. I do still love me some gnar. But I started to go on epic rides more and more. And people want to ride the same sanitized trails and lines in the City limits over and over again in order to scrub off some seconds on STRAVA. For prestige or success, or whatever it is. I go out riding in order to see places, wild animals, look into remote valleys and ride natural trails. Maybe have a cuppa trailcoffee or riding out to some trailside Café. Of course this is neither better nor inferior, it is just different. Often I would rise early and come back well into the night.
Well, maybe my riding style didn't change that much. I adapted to the group, but I have always ridden that way when I have had a choice. I find it way more wholesome than what we are taking for "progression". Progressing happens naturally when you are just doing what you like.
That steel frame sat in the back of the shop all the while. Every fecking day the world turned into a huge pile of shit a little more. Every day, it became a little harder to afford riding for sport alone. A sprocket suddenly cost 30ü€. That is 300€ for a wear item that maybe lasts a year. Don't get me wrong, you still get Chinese spare parts for a halfway decent price, but they are obviously not compatible. It is more cost-effective to replace the cranks and (because you then need to), the bottom bracket, than just buy a new chainring, because this is what needs to be replaced. An overhaul of your suspension costs as much as a good, used fork. 29" is essentially just 700C or 28" with beefier rims and bigger tyres, but can cost up to 150€ more. Nothing wrong with the idea, actually. I am just not quite enthused if someone wants to sell me moonbeams.
So, the Enduro hardtail getting a bit tired, so to say, and with a bit of money that I unfortunately inherited, I just said "screw it" and bought that Surly Troll. Because it has a steel frame that you could weld back again in a smithy, because it comes with a lot of bosses for carrier racks, because it comes with a fork that doesn't cost an arm and a leg and, well, also because a pre-2012 Surly Troll had reportedly legendary ride properties, and because you do not read a lot about it.
Next issue was the rear derailleur. The cogs on it where ground down by years of hard use. It was cheaper to get a new one than to fecking replace the goddamn cogs. Frustrated, I just hauled that sorry wreck to the shop. I got the impression that they were not too enthused. Their mechanic proudly showed me his new electronic shifting system. You get an app to adjust it, and the app can also measure your torque and cadence and offer you training advice. Maybe even give you nutritional "suggestions" via AI. Also, it is connected to Google or Komoot or STRAVA, imagine that, what a brave new world we live in! Isn't that marvellous?!
Yes, it is NOT. Starting with the very simple fact that it needs energy, and originally, a bicycle has an efficiency ratio of 98%. A bicycle is maybe the last beautiful machine that mankind has invented. That would be or should be completely sufficient in times of climate change crisis to completely dismantle it as unnecessary.
But unfortunately, it is more to it. It is about customer control, and, ultimately, the ultimate citizen control. I spare you the elaboration. Uwe was just intrigued by the technology, and I can perfectly relate to that. Don't get me wrong on this. It is a fascinating technology, and would be just awesome. But I know politicians intimately, and there are, while a lot of them are pretty decent people, some, and in rather powerful positions, that are not. Not every politician is a crackpot technocratic would-be dictator. But the very few that are should make you very careful around anything that says "digital", " AI", "Networks" , "surveillance" and "control" in one description. And do not get me wrong again, either. I honestly cannot say, because I cannot know. I really just want to rather be safe than sorry.
And actually, my main reason is that I want to keep it simple and reliable and serviceable. I want to ride. I am the one who rides, and my capabilities are propelling the bike. I haven't trained for ages and I am getting old and out of shape. I do not want to cheat myself into believing I were 20. I am not. I do not want to constantly worry whether or not I charged my motor or shifter battery or whatever. I want to be able to leave my Smartphone at home and just take along some brick phone. Not that I would, I do love the camera. But I do not want to worry about it telling Mommy in the US about my torque and cadence and heart rate and speed and calory intake or where I have been. I do want to emphasize that I cannot know. But I go to some pretty remote places with wildlife and serene little forest trails, and I would rather not have some STRAVA- nutters spoil that for good. I do not want to think how long my fork will hold up without service. I do not want to bother to monitor my heart rate and calory intake. I don't have a talent for racing. I do not want to indebt myself in order to belong. I have learned the hard way that everything I could do would not make me fit in. I tried, and I tried hard, and broke myself in the process five fucking times in order to belong to fucking Karens, male or female. Debt is a method of control. And I decided to rather be more feral. This is the hard way. A rigid fork means pain. But I fail to see the point of taking the sport too serious, because I do not take myself too serious. I know that I am not the centre of the world. I want to ride. I want to ride free. I might not be the best rider there is, but I am also not the worst, but all that doesn't matter.
The bike, which I brought to the shop in the state you can see on the photo, wheels and everything pre-installed and with little technology on it, took said shop three months to complete.
Now you guys know that I am very much into forest and nature, and this means I also have my contact with bushcraft and survival. And in the survival and prepping community there is that "bugout" concept. Means, when SHTF, you got a spare car or motorbike or quad or other ATV to get away from the crisis. One famed YouTube prepper featured a bugout bike (I think it was by Jeep or something). It was a fat bike concept with an E-bike configuration. Some racks, rather martial looks, weighs in at some 25kg and obviously needs a battery. And it sits in your garage most of the time. Because most of the prepping guys are rather overweight gun-nutters. And of course you need to spare it so that it will work in that special scenario. It is a piece of gear you buy, and, unfortunately not necessarily often linked to mindset or attitude.
Do not get me wrong again, all good, and I did not get mad at them. But I simply propose they were, while on the one hand, somewhat relieved about the bike that was, quote unquote "like to those in the good ol' times", also a bit pissed off by it. Because, well, it doesn't generate a lot of money. A big bikestore in Marburg, where I was looking for an alternative, told me they would rather not have the customer do anything on the bike her- or himself, and even offer rescue repairs in the woods..."if you get the App" in order to prevent you from even repairing a flat. When I objected that I also have worked as a race mechanic when applying for a job as a product manager with a corporation most of their wheels come from, that guy didn't even reply but elaborated endlessly about their leasing programs and how I could get bonus points when I "got the App". The magic troll and I would sit there still, had we not interrupted his mumbo jumbo by simply rising and walking out of the door. And that is a reality. The bike industry is about making money and generating data and NFTs, not about bikes or even sustainability.
Well, you might know how much that pissed me off. It makes me angry what they try to create from a sport that is utterly democratic and inclusive. Fact is, a certain percentage of riders are and have always been the rich kids. This percentage is apparently rising. You don't meet a lot of riders on ratty bikes on the trails, and next to noone at all on the backwoods trails. Well, very well, fairnuff for me. I do not want or need company. It is the lack of company I strive for, or rather, less, but quality company, and this mindset enables me not to give a runny shit about my bike being compatible with an average group speed. I mean, I don't think I would be too slow at all for a group ride. It is just a luxury to no longer care. 
Well, I actually am not entitled to criticize that. I learned everything about bugging out from my father. Personally I do think that there is not a lot more to know. During WW2, my father had been a Hitler youth, until he barely escaped concentration camp for insubordination and was no longer active. When the allies (fortunately) arrived in the Ruhr region, the Wehrmacht recruited every Hitler youth for the "Volkssturm". Turned out that my father had different ideas. My granduncle and grandaunt lived in a very rural area in the Sauerland region. My father deserted and bugged out, not just out of political reasons, but because he was a kid and afraid of being killed and because it was stoopid in the first. He had some good bike with one speed and a robust frame and balloon tyres he was really familiar with. At one time he rode some 300km to the North Sea in one go on it, so riding it 50km through the woods wasn't a real challenge. He just grabbed a rucksack with a bit of tea and bread and rode away, and it was just a regular ride for him. The bike had a frame pump, he had a repair kit, and a wrench, he went and put on plain clothing and was off. Nearly got the bike confiscated but lied about a special messenger duty, so that he got to keep the bike and was left alone. He laid low for a week in a shed on his aunt's and uncle 's property in the woods, the Nazi regime was defeated and he survived.
Thing is, I want to ride. I find it rather silly buying a rather high-maintenance bike that requires really complex spare parts to maintain. When my father broke the cranks on his bike while launching it off a ramp, my grandfather welded them back together in an open coal forge. Try this with some kind of pedelec drivetrain module. The bikes of the 1920s were, for the most part, rather simple and sustainable to service. Why is that important?
Well, a bicycle is fun and a very beautiful machine for its efficiency.
There are some goodies I do not want to miss, like decent disc brakes, modern geometry and shifting mechs.
A bicycle can take you places. If said shit hits the proverbial fan, you need to be able to ride fast and for maybe a longer time through maybe rougher terrain.
You need a certain amount of training to do that. Relying on a motor is a more complex situation. You want to minimize the chance of things going wrong and a bicycle is not just a single use item. It is a very useful tool for foraging and going places. And it is also good for the morale, because, if you associate fun with any riding, it offers you a lot of resilience. So you might consider getting a bicycle also for fun and resilience, not just for some prepping scenario.
The situation with the bike industry, however, makes it already rather difficult to get a simple, sustainable bike. The Troll frame and a lot of other Surly frames offer you the option of using rim brakes and a single speed setup. Making rim brakes is not rocket science, and you can find rim brakes even on junkyards. And fortunately, there are a lot of little corporations like Jones bikes or Binary bikes and other manufacturers catering to those requirements again. Maybe the tides are turning a bit.
Apart from the longer top tube and fork, it is what I have got. The tubing is Surly 's own triple-butted True Temper 4130 ChroMoly tubing, which can be heat treated.
The bike, as I said, is quite the opposite of my Enduro hardtail. But riding it was a rather strange thing. On the Dartmoor, I got a rather narrow saddle and a dropper post. And get my meaning right: A dropper post is a great thing to have on any bike. On the Enduro, it is almost as much in use as my shifters.
On the Surly, I mounted a vintage Brooks Colt saddle, which is not exactly narrow.
I realized quickly, that, while I intended the Troll to be a commuter and gravel and lighter duty forest trails bike, it asks for more. If you bang it through some rock gardens, you obviously notice the absence of any squish at all, and of course you go a bit slower, but you don't miss the suspension too much. And when you forget you got a rigid bike and sail off a drop, well, of course it goes #klunk. But there is a rather weird sensation, which few other people might be able to relate to: It whips through as if you were parrying a blow with a really well-made sword. The frame is actually heat treated, and by someone who really knows their shit. This sensation is quite addictive. Sooner than I had expected, I was flying down trails I also ride my Enduro on. And thing is, I only noticed when I was through the gnar that I completely forgot to lower my saddle at all. You know, that Grampa couch of a saddle. Do not get me wrong: No suspension means you cannot make any mistake at all. One root not taken on an ideal line will send you arse over teacup into the bushes. I am most certainly slower than on the Enduro (didn't check yet, because I honestly don't care), but boy, is that fun. It has its shortcomings on high speed tech, but excels on slow tech and singletrack, up and down, no matter what, you just keep riding.
If you can still get one, you most certainly will not regret it. And do not fall for the bullshit, in the bike industry as well as in the survival and prepping community. Have fun. Get on the bike, if you have one. If you have not, you might want to consider keeping it a tad more simple. It is and always will be about the mindset and attitude. Good gear is fun, but just like some prybar of a knife sucks at real life tasks, so do bikes marketed as "bugout bikes". Don't see it as a primary tool for bugging out in an emergency, too. Don't forget to play, because it is good for one's mental health and resilience in an emergency.
Take care, and have fun!
