Save the Wack Bike: Fixed Gear MTB Survival Guide

This weekend I’m zipping down to Richmond to take my sophomore stab at the infamous MOUNTAINCAT100, a one-of-a-kind race/event/party that perfectly balances underground, ultra-endurance and off-road cycling. And you already know, if the race has a fixed gear category, I’m doing it.

When I moved to West Virginia I thought I’d waved goodbye to riding fixed. My track bike was not enjoyable to commute on, and the web of strip mall-laden semi-highways that surrounds the hospital and university infrastructure is straight up dangerous to surf. I had practically resigned myself to a braked and/or derailleur-ed life. 

At the time my fleet included a track bike, a geared ‘cross bike and my dad’s third-string single-speed mountain bike— a pre-boost Surly Karate Monkey that I had frequently poached since I was in high school. I took the K-Monk this time understanding that the Shimano SLX calipers were slowly leaking mineral oil, and that it would need some attention to be back in riding shape.

Those repairs never got done. As rumors of a local bandit ‘cross series began swirling, I knew I wanted to showcase a wonky whip, so I recycled the contaminated rotors and Tomi-Cogged the rear wheel (not really, I got the Problem Solvers ripoff). Almost as soon as the wheel was back on I was at the neighborhood trails noodling around. Nothing gets me quite as pumped as riding a fixed gear. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in traffic or in the woods— the inability to coast just makes me feel glued to the bike and lasered in on my riding experience. 

The bandit ‘cross season came and went, but I still spent much of the winter poking around on the Karate Monkey to break up an offseason program full of trainer rides. I had heard of MOUNTAINCAT before, so when a few folks I had met at ‘cross races encouraged me to come out that summer and give it a go, I set my alarm on 4/20 to wake and bake the registration page.

I’m no stranger to the things that can go wrong during a century, so in preparation for the big day I decided to look at my questionably-constructed fixed gear mountain bike with a critical eye. Most gravely, I had a scary incident with breaking a chain while skidding around a berm. This was likely due to using a SRAM 9-speed chain on a worn out narrow-wide chainring and 3/32” bolt-on cog without a decent chainline. Additionally, the main challenge of riding singletrack on a fixed gear is certainly pedal placement. Avoiding pedal strikes and setting myself up for a hop are always on my mind, so I knew I needed to address gear ratio. I had been running 32x18—my typical single-speed gearing— but I was pretty sure I could run a bigger ratio to keep my cadence controlled while not losing much climbing ability because of the magic fixed gear effect.

My solution to these problems was to build a proper fixed rear wheel, lockring and all, to address chainline and open up my options for gearing with my arsenal of 1/8” track cogs. 6-bolt cogs only seemed to be available in 3/32”, and running a beefy drivetrain would be important insurance on the downhills. As far as chains go, I grabbed an Izumi Eco track chain in the color that looks a lot like a Super Toughness. Unfortunately finding a big-toothed 104BCD chainring is impossible it seems, so I opted for a stainless Surly 36t. It all works, but for brakeless applications I absolutely advise running a full 1/8” drivetrain to withstand the high torque that constant skidding and mashing put on the material throughout the bike’s pulley ensemble. 

For the wheel, I sourced a vintage Stan’s rim from Gunnar and planned to lace it to a Surly Ultra New hub. I’m very thankful that Surly still makes a 135mm fixed gear hub because this project was too stupid of an excuse to splash on an offering from Paul or Phil. That said, I do have a complaint. In my experience, the axle nuts have virtually no bite and frequently slip. I don’t understand what’s wrong with a 10mm male axle and some 15mm nuts to hold the thing on. Facing this, I grabbed some Profile BMX chain tensioners to help out. 

Everything on the bike side went pretty good. I did manage to crash, lose my GPS, spend 20 minutes finding it, still get lost and OD on beer and hotdogs at the second-to-last aid station, but no matter what happens, MOUNTAINCAT is a hoot. My favorite anecdote of the day involves the bonus fingerboard checkpoint, where the best clip at a tucked away fingerboard DIY park earned a special prize. In anticipation of this (I’m a decent fingerboarder) I strapped my bougie fingerboard (I own one of those) in with my innertube under my saddle. Somehow it jostled out, which I did not realize until I arrived at the mini skatepark emptyhanded. While sweeping the course following the race, Emily (the head honcho) found it. She remembered that I had made a remark about barnstorming the fingerboard competition, confirmed it was mine and returned it to me. 

The Richmond bike community is really incredible. I don’t know if it’s something in the water, if they’re still riding the high of hosting the road world championship or what, but they have it figured out. As an outsider, MOUNTAINCAT seems to embody the health of the Richmond scene perfectly. It manages to somehow be inclusive and competitive; hardcore and chill as fuck; equal parts fundraiser, race and psychedelic experience. I'm also just pumped that it gives me an outlet to stunt on this stupid bike.