Cyclists find fatter is better

All muddy shins and ruddy glows, half a dozen cyclists roll back to the pavilion as the sun sinks past the tree line over Klaus Park in Jackson.

It's a crisp Thursday evening, and the riders are gathered for Cyclewerx's weekly group ride and cookout, but after the dreary start to October, the trail is spongy.

In fact, it would be a tedious slog on anything but a fat bike.

Most of the cyclists returning come bouncing back on one. The fat bike is the latest big thing in the cycling world: it's basically a mountain bike frame with monster truck tires.

"It's basically a human-powered ATV," says Cape Girardeau resident Jeff Smith, buckling his helmet. "The fat bike gives you the ability to go places off the trail that otherwise you wouldn't have."

John Dodd works his way up a trail on a fat bike at Klaus Park in Jackson Saturday, Oct. 11.

On a fat bike, trails become mere suggestions; winter becomes riding weather, and obstacles such as the three-foot-tall pile of broken bricks near the Klaus Park parking lot become ramps.

Smith explains that the bikes were invented about a decade ago in Alaska, where cyclists would sew together two regular mountain bike tires to form tires that would grip the snow-clogged trails. Since then, the fat bike reputation has gone from utilitarian winter transport to universal adventure enabler.

"It makes you feel like a kid again," Smith says.

He's been cycling seriously for about 10 years, but he picked up a fat bike last year as something to do with his 14-year-old son.

John Dodd, owner of Cyclewerx in Cape Girardeau, said that one of the biggest draws to the fat bike is how its huge tires level the playing field.

"It's a great bike for anybody; whether they're a veteran cyclist or not," he says. "People see them and think they'd be hard to steer, but they're not."

To prove his point, he nods over to the crowd under the pavilion, where a grade-school boy is wheeling around on a borrowed bike about four sizes too big for his legs.

"And the way they grip and roll over things, they're actually safer," he says.

"Especially for someone who's maybe just starting out."

Cape resident Bob Berck says that he's seen places on his fat bike that he wouldn't otherwise have gotten to.

"There are places that you wouldn't be able to walk through, even," he says. "But it'll go right through it like there's a trail."

The sudden possibilities afforded by the fat bike's hardiness are almost daunting at first, but Berck says that one of his favorite places to ride is up along the river in Illinois.

"Riding up the sandbars, those big tires just float right over it," he says. "And, of course, I'm waiting for the snow."

He, like many other area gearheads, used to be resigned to the snow-covered and unpaved country roads during the winter months in a practice called "gravel grinding." This winter, however, the woods are Berck's oyster.

"It'll still make a fine gravel-grinding bike, but it opens up a whole other option for those of us who don't really care for road riding," he says.

Like Berck, Smith says what draws him to mountain biking in the first place is the prospect of adventure. He does it for the vitality of getting lost in the woods and the invigorating romp back to civilization.

"It'll put a big old grin on your face," he says. "But I think I'm gonna tool around a little before the light's all gone."

And off he goes, in precisely the direction he feels. Grinning.

tgraef@semissourian.com

388-3627

Pertinent address:

1407 N. Kingshighway, Cape Girardeau