Surly Bikes
It was a regular day of keeping the legal team busy and testing what we could slip past the Overlords at Surly HQ when my boss pinged me: “Interested in going to Salida, Colorado for Single Speed USA next week?” Silly question, if you ask me. Who am I to turn down an opportunity like that? Only one problem: not only did I not own a single speed bike, but I’d never even ridden one. Thankfully Surly had a shiny new Karate Monkey in Lost at Sea Blue ready to become my dream single speed rig.
I flew into Denver on Thursday, met the Surly crew, and embarked on the three-hour drive to Salida. As we drove through the mountains, my excitement grew knowing that I’d be scaling up the side of one of them in just a few days. I haven’t spent a great deal of time in Colorado so this was yet another part of the trip that was almost entirely new to me.
We reached our weekend home, unloaded the bikes, and headed to meet the other early arrivers at SubCulture Cyclery, which would serve as the basecamp for the weekend.
I’ve been to a lot of bike events in my 10+ years of being a cyclist. A lot of ‘em typically have people standing around talking with the friends they came with or networking in some sense. I figured SSUSA would have that same vibe, and I’d feel like an outsider for showing up never having ridden a single speed. Turns out I was dead wrong. From the second we hit Salida, we were welcomed by a bunch of cool, laid-back people who immediately made us part of their crew.
We took the rest of Thursday to get our bearings, grab some food at The Boathouse, and get my bike dialed in. As this was my first time even seeing my bike, I put a lot of faith in just blindly trusting the Surly team’s recommendations. Turns out, they were pretty spot on. I had brought my own grips, saddle, and pedals from my Instigator 2.0 that I ride back home, but everything else was new. The Surly team recommended 32x21 gearing, anticipating needing to easily climb. I did a few laps up and down the street to test fit real quick. All felt good!
Friday morning, we woke early to be greeted by one of the most beautiful sunrises I’ve ever seen coming up over S Mountain. The streets outside were quiet as everyone was just getting started with their days. We took our time getting ready, chugged some coffee, and headed back over to SubCulture Cyclery to meet up with a crew for a mountain bike ride. You could access all the trails we’d be riding that weekend by riding across a bridge right from downtown Salida – truly a mountain biker’s dream!
We headed up the front side of S Mountain to the very top via Frontside and Backside Trails where I found that 32x21 was a very welcomed gearing. We then ripped back down to town through the Rusty Lung and Lil’ Rattler. I think those riding around me might have gotten a little tired of how often I said “siiiiiick” and how stoked I was on these trails. This ride was about 10 miles of some of the most fun trails I’ve ever ridden. And not only did I survive my first single speed ride, but I was already hooked.
Friends had been trying to sell me on the one-gear life for years, and after that first ride, I finally got it. Without gears, your whole riding style changes. You plan for climbs by carrying more speed on the downhills, you’re standing and mashing through things, and it’s simple: you either make it up the climb, or you don’t. Plus, downhills were way more fun—no chain slap and no worrying about ripping off a derailleur. It was just me, the sound of my tires, and 50 of my newest, closest friends.
After the ride, we joined a later crew for a ride over to Salida Brewing, which boasts having the World’s Best Chicken Tenders. As a self-proclaimed Tender Connoisseur, I had to try em for myself and while “World's Best” might be a bit much, they were definitely up there on the Tender Scale. After lunch, we walked out to the street where I got to experience my first singlespeed bike pile. Tapping those more in tune with the practice, I learned this is basically a way of keeping folks in one spot until everyone decides to leave. That or it’s just the joy of messing with folks which would also be on brand.
From there, we headed back to the house to make some minor adjustments to my bike. I just needed the brakes pulled in a little bit and the dropper moved out for ease of entering shred-mode. Being 5’1, cycling for me is a never-ending battle of “how compact can you make this?
That afternoon, we joined everyone for the official welcome party at The Soggy Surfer where we got our race plates and swag bags. The energy around the patio was ever increasing as more and more folks arrive to town ahead of the event. What started as the small 50-er-so folks from our morning ride was quickly evolving into the 250+ that would be riding together on Saturday.
Despite everyone else’s energy, I’m already exhausted from traveling and riding so I sit down on the curb to enter low power mode (a practice a friend taught me where you’re still awake and breathing, but you’re otherwise thoughtless, staring blankly ahead to conserve energy). Some dude runs up, grabs the top of my head and yells “YOU’RE SURLY, WHY AREN’T YOU PARTYING MORE?!” Point taken. I got up to rejoin the rest of the crew who were engaged in loudly encouraging another, larger bike pile forming across the street.
After things settled down again, I met up with some friends who had driven up from Albuquerque earlier in the day. I rarely get to see them as we live on opposite sides of the country and was stoked that they’d be there to help guide me through my first single speed event. They’re seasoned single speeders and a big part of the reason the one-gear life appealed to me to begin with.
We found a spot on the grass outside the Soggy Surfer and commenced chillin’ til the sun went down, taking in the excitement around us.
After a good night’s sleep and a final check of my gear, Saturday morning rolls around and the ride is upon us!
We all meet up outside of SubCulture Cyclery for the official mass roll out. After a delicious breakfast burrito from The Biker and the Baker, it was game time! There were three route options available - I planned to do the shortest of the routes offered which was about 17 miles with roughly 1700 feet of climbing.
What I soon learned is that single speeders are a bunch who are not meant to be trusted at all. After two days of partying, chill vibes, and mellow trails, I found myself on a three-mile gravel climb that just kept getting steeper.
There’s an aid station at the top offering haircuts and popsicles. I opt for a cherry popsicle and find someone with a pair of scissors to cut the sleeves off my shirt. Reinvigorated from the stop, we’ve finally arrived at singletrack and I’m still with my Albuquerque friends! Heck yeah, time for shredding! Wrong again, buddy!
Now I preface this by saying that I am from Georgia. I’ve been riding (geared) mountain bikes for a long time, and I consider myself a decent, strong mountain biker. But what Georgia classifies as an advanced trail is not what Colorado considers an advanced trail.
Also, I live at about 700 feet above sea level and Salida sits at 7,000 feet. I provide this information just for context when I say – oh my goodness these trails just about ruined me.
I quickly lost my friends when the gnar became too much. Being on a new bike on new trails, I got a bit in my head and found myself walking a lot of things that I could usually at least attempt to clear. If you’re a mountain biker, I’m sure you know these days well. Other riders would catch me, and I’d hop back on my bike to try and follow their lines for a while but would soon lose them too. Frustration grew.
Eventually, I came across the folks who would be my crew for most of the day. They were a ragtag bunch who were clearly veteran single speeders from Austin, Texas. This crew included the guy from the day before who yelled at me for not partying hard enough. I knew I was going to be in good company! Stoke returned!
There was still a lot of walking to be done, but now I had new friends to leapfrog the trails and attempt to find new lines with.
At about mile 7, we came to a meeting spot at the bottom of another gravel climb. I find my Albuquerque friends again who encourage me to not just call it quits by dipping back down into town. So, we pedal, mash, and walk our way to the top where we’re greeted by the second aid station. I’m exhausted but the views cannot be beat so I just take a second to take it all in.
We ham it up with some buds and enjoy a cold beverage. I hea over to the aid tent to see what sort of aid could be provided. At this point, I’m expectant of single speeders antics, but I still took the risk of accepting an offering of an Oreo from the aid tent. To not much of my surprise, the Oreo had been filled with horseradish. To more of my surprise, however, I found myself actually enjoying it. Jokes on you, Aid Tenters! Yeah, it might be sign of being cracked if you do find yourself honestly enjoying such a treat, but I couldn’t concern myself with that then.
After a prolonged stop, we’re back on singletrack that has calmed down slightly. More gnar, more walking, more losing my original friends and re-finding my new ones. The trails become a bit of a blur around this part.
Finally, we’ve made it to the final trail! My buddy tells me that the trail is rated as a double black diamond so to be careful. To this day, I don’t know if he misread a sign or was just messing with me because the final trail down was a lot of what I’d experienced on Friday that made me fall in love with this whole single speeding thing. Nothing but smooth, flowy lines with minimal pedaling.
At the bottom, we were greeted by fresh cooked bacon by Paul from Paul Components himself, cheersed a coke, and reveled in the day! After another quick chill sesh, my buds left to head back to Albuquerque and I went on to reunite with the Surly crew. I knew they would be found at the Lumberyard, but I didn’t know how to go about finding that. Pedaling aimlessly around town, I finally spot a person who looks just sketchy enough to be someone I can trust to help me find my crew. Turns out I was right, so I hop on their wheel, and they lead me straight to the Surly aid tent at the Lumberyard.
There the rest of the crew is already knee-deep in partying, pickle juice shotsing, skills coursing, and skid competitioning. I prop my bike up and make the jump from rider-in-the- event to heckler of those still on course.
The evening rolls around again and the ride is wrapping up so we head over to Benson’s Tavern for the official after party. There’s a pasta buffet that I do my best to be chill around, taking only a totally-normal amount of pasta even though the desire to consume the whole spread is there after the day I’ve had.
As the carbs start to do their thing and energy returns, the partying ramps up. There’s a band on stage keeping the vibes going, occasionally interrupted to give away some raffle prizes to the waiting crowd.
Surly’s in it for the long run as we’re planning to give away a Karate Monkey at the end of the night. Low power mode once again takes over and I find a quiet corner to pass the time in. I soon found myself deep in a Google search researching a single speed crew that was out in the masses at the event. I read aloud the key points to my fellow Surly’er so he could also become an expert in this completely arbitrary knowledge. Next thing we know, Surly is being called up to the stage – time to give away a bike! In the best turn of events, the bike ends up going to another woman who is at Single Speed USA for her first time too! Hollywood couldn’t write a better all-encompassing ending to a story if they tried.
On Sunday, we headed back to Denver to fly back to reality. In reflecting on my weekend, I really can’t say if it met my expectations or not because I went in having absolutely no idea what to expect. The ride itself was somehow more and less hard than I anticipated. The vibes were better than I could have ever hoped for. I made so many new friends and learned so much about single speeding as a whole. I’ll definitely be seeing y’all at the next one!
