FEATURE STORY
How to Buy a Touring Bike by John Schubert
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In my various touring excursions, I've camped on a cliff over the Pacific Ocean, been pampered in a luxuriant country inn in Vermont, made s'mores over a campground fire for a couple of cute French women hitchhikers, seen the Northern Lights in North Dakota, and had thousands of other great experiences that make lifelong memories.
So the first thing about buying a touring bike is this: When you use the bike, you won't want it to be the focus of your trip.
When you buy a bike you fret over tire width, gearing, rider position, and other minutiae; but once you're on the road, you want the bike
to take care of all those details for you. Then you can properly enjoy the vista beyond your handlebars.
The second thing about buying a touring bike is to find a shop that understands touring. Not all shops do. Even though touring is the
single most common way in which "serious" bicyclists do something with their bikes, dwarfing all kinds of racing in participation levels,
it isn't on the radar screen at some shops. If you walk into a shop, ask for a touring bike, and they immediately herd you to a mountain
bike, that's a bad sign. Mountain bikes are, for some riders, a great choice. But they are not the only choice and they should not be the
default choice.
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A classic touring bike by Seven Cycles.
(For a list of bikes to consider, click here.) |
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To begin your selection process, you'll have to make some initial decisions about what kind of bike best suits you. But before I take you
through those, I have a general comment. Most of the decisions you make will involve how much limitation you are willing to accept in the
bike: whether it's made for front and rear racks; how much clearance it has for wide tires and fenders; whether the gearing is designed for
a steep hill at the end of a long day; etc.
Many stylish touring bikes and semi-touring bikes have limitations in these areas. Think about your needs before buying one. You can take a
heavy-duty touring bike on a sag-supported tour without skipping a beat, but the reverse is not true. And even if your immediate goal is a
sag-supported tour, it just might whet your appetite for a self-contained tour in the future.
Okay, now that I've made that pitch, here's that decision tree:
How much stuff do you want to carry?
Broadly speaking, touring cyclists fall into three categories: (1) self-supported camping touring; (2) self-supported motel touring, and
(3) sag-supported.
If you're a sag-supported tourist, you can ride whatever kind of bike you like, the only criteria being that you like that style of bike
for hours and hours each day, and that the bike carry as many or as few knickknacks as you wish to bring along.
The motel-and-restaurant tourist will typically fill two small panniers with clothing and toiletries. (I've done it with only a rack trunk,
but that limits you to the bare essentials.) This load might typically weigh 15 pounds or so, and it doesn't much matter whether it goes on
a front rack or a rear rack. This is significant, because many great bikes are made for a rear rack but weren't built to accommodate front
racks.
The camping tourist will want to carry more stuff. Forty pounds or more is not uncommon. For this rider, I insist on a bike designed for
both front and rear racks, with robust tires.
A special note: if you already own your touring bike, and it wasn't designed for racks, take a trip over to
www.oldmanmountain.com, where they
specialize in making racks for bikes that weren't designed to accept racks. But if you're buying a bike, you might as well get one designed
to take racks.
Another special note: those racks that just attach to the seatpost are not touring racks! The weight you carry on a self-contained trip
makes those racks unsuitable.
Upright bike or recumbent bike?
With apologies to recumbent fans, this article focuses on upright bikes. It's the tyranny of the (shrinking) majority at work.
That said, we like recumbents and we think you should consider one. You can learn just about everything I know about them by reading last
year's recumbent article. But while you're waiting for that big PDF file to load, here's the
executive summary:
All recumbents have a comfortable laid-back seating position, but not all are designed for loaded touring. The differences are wheelbase,
tire size, and provisions for accepting panniers.
Most (but not all) recumbent riders prefer a long wheelbase and larger size tires for touring. Accommodations for panniers vary quite a
bit.
The Fender Stratocaster of touring recumbents is the Easy Racer, and many of its riders equip themselves with a fairing and body stocking
to tour at higher speed. It's quite the sight to see a group of Easy Racer tourists looking like cruise missiles on the highway, with
middle-age heads sticking out of those sleek vehicles.
The Easy Racer has a long wheelbase (over five feet long), large tires, and handlebars above the seat. When you shop for a touring
recumbent, you'll find that most other touring-oriented models share those attributes. There are exceptions, though, and I suggest you do
enough reading, test riding, and contemplation to make the selection that works for you.
Trailer or panniers?
Although I just got done telling you to fret about racks and panniers, you also have the viable option of carrying your camping gear in a
cargo trailer. Once again, this may be the way to go if you already own a bike that is rack mount-challenged; and many riders just plain
prefer trailers. In particular, they are popular among riders of full-suspension mountain bikes.
Trailers unhitch in seconds, and when they're unhitched, you have your empty bike back. The trailer can be used as a campsite table. But
the trailer adds length, complication, and moving parts, so you have to decide which set of attributes you prefer.
Upright handlebars or dropped bars?
I vastly prefer dropped handlebars, and many of us old codgers in the bike business believe they're ultimately more comfortable than
upright (mountain bike style) bars.
Many riders disagree, and they're not all bad people. Once again, I heartily recommend giving both a fair trial and making an informed
choice. All the arguments about hand positions, aerodynamics, and so on are minor compared with the simple question: What feels good to
you?
This decision drives many of your next set of choices. If you want flat handlebars, you may find it easy to buy a mountain bike with rack
mounts and be on your way. (If you get one with a suspension front fork, remember Old Man Mountain is standing by to take care of your rack
needs.) If you want dropped handlebars, you'll still be navigating the touring bike choices.
How wide-range is your gearing?
This is an area where the bike industry has yet to catch up with its slide-rule-enabled customers in understanding customer needs.
In my opinion, you should have a low gear adequate for climbing a long, steep hill at the end of the day. This means a low-gear of about 20
to 25 gear inches. (Spry young riders on a sag-supported tour may meet my low gear definition with a 30-inch low gear.) But the most common
drivetrain setup on new bikes is a standard Shimano package with a 30-tooth inner chainwheel, a 26-tooth large cog, and therefore a 31-inch
low gear.
If your bike of choice is so-equipped, ask your shop to slap a 26-tooth chainwheel onto that bike, lowering the low gear to 27 inches. This
change alone will meet the needs of many riders. The shop may be able to substitute larger rear cogs if the rear derailleur capacity
permits; if the rear derailleur doesn't permit, you'll have to decide if you want a more expensive retrofit.
It's a shame to contemplate making changes like that to a gorgeous new bike. Fortunately, not all bike models require it.
Now we go from not enough low gear to the other end of the spectrum, where you may have too much high gear. You should have a high gear for
the fastest speed you would want to pedal at a brisk cadence. To me, this means a high gear of no more than 110 gear inches, which, at a
cadence of 105 rpm, nets you 34 mph. I personally would be happy with a high gear of 95 inches, which nets you 30 mph at that cadence.
But many of the bikes you'll see have a 52-tooth chainwheel, an 11-tooth top cog, and a knee-crushing 128-inch top gear, which even I
cannot pedal at 105 rpm for a 40 mph top speed.
So if you find yourself doing gearing retrofits, feel free to toss out that uselessly high gear.
(Just in case it wasn't obvious: unless you plan to do all your touring in Florida, get a bike with three chainwheels. It would be a shame
to blow out your knees for the machismo of riding a two-chainwheel bike. Sadly, this requirement eliminates many of those oddly popular
cyclocross bikes from your shopping list. See a list of bikes to consider here.)
Exotic or assembly line?
Roughly speaking, production touring bikes from mass-production companies like Jamis, Cannondale, and Bianchi span the price gap from $700
to $2,000. "Exotic" bikes, made by small builders like Bruce Gordon and Co-Motion, start somewhere near that $2,000 figure and go upward.
Usually, there is no right or wrong answer here. Production bikes do the job; exotics have delightfully irrational cachet.
However, sometimes you'll find yourself driven to the exotics because they meet needs the mainstream companies don't. For example, if you
want a bike more rugged than any production dropped-handlebar bike, with S&S couplers so it fits in a suitcase for travel, you'll be
looking at a Co-Motion Americano. If you want the ease of riding your dropped-handlebar touring bike over rough surfaces on 29-inch tires
(which actually share their 622 mm bead seat diameter with 700C tires), you'll be looking at one of Bruce Gordon's models.
Other exotic and custom builders can meet these and other needs. Your choices are as broad as your patience and your wallet.
The decisions you've made in response to these six questions above should have narrowed your focus some. Now it's time to look at the
remaining selection with an eye to the core criteria:
The bike should fit you comfortably.
The bike should accommodate the tire width you want.
Miscellaneous design criteria should meet your needs.
I'll start with fit. You already know that a bike that fits you well will have the proper seat-to-pedal length. That measurement should be
familiar to you. So right now, go get your existing bike and a tape measure, and measure the distance from the center of your crank spindle
to the top of the saddle. Write the number down in your daily appointment book or (sigh) PDA.
But leg length doesn't tell the whole story on fit, particularly when you're going to be on the bike for four to six hours per day. You
want a hand position that is kind to your neck and back.
In both upright bar bikes and dropped-handlebar bikes, there is a wide variation in handlebar height. Racers favor low handlebars for
aerodynamics; you should favor a higher handlebar to avoid neck and back aches.
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Guy Barel, one of our leaders,
on the cover of Adventure Cyclist. |
It's not always easy to discern handlebar position by looking at the bike. Visual cues may fool you. (For example, the top tube may be
slightly slanted.) So I recommend you use a tape measure. Begin with your existing bike. Measure your saddle height from the floor. Measure
your handlebar height from the floor. And when you go look at bikes in the shop, take their measurements.
More and more, bike companies use a combination of frame design and handlebar stem design to raise the bars. Frames may use a rising top
tube and/or an extension on the head tube. Handlebar stems are sometimes made so they can be adjusted up and toward the rider.
You can't test-ride a bike enough to simulate the effect of long days of riding. But you can probably discern whether higher handlebars
will add to your comfort. I recommend that you give them serious consideration.
The horizontal distance between seat and handlebars may be of interest. Fortunately, most of us have nearly average proportions of arm and
torso length, and are well accommodated by stock frame dimensions. A change in handlebar stem length may help if stock bikes aren't quite
right. (If this is an issue for you, I recommend seeking out a bike shop that uses the Fit Kit and offers professional fitting
consultations.) A few of you will find that your unique bodies are best served by a custom frame.
After all this figuring, most of you will find that a stock bike in your size fits comfortably. But do be aware of your options, so you can
exercise them if they'd benefit you.
Now you consider tire width. This question determines how rugged a trip your bike can comfortably accommodate. Again, I recommend you
consider future aspirations as well as this year's trip.
Many attractive bikes on the showroom floor have three chainwheels and racing tires (about 700 x 25C, with the "25" very roughly
corresponding to the tire width in millimeters). Some won't have rack mounts. Cute as they are, these bikes are strictly limited to
sag-supported riding.
In my opinion, loaded touring begins to make sense when your tire width reaches 28C, and I prefer tires wider than that (32C, 35C, or even
more). The wider tires give you more durability and fewer flats, and reassuring traction and handling over rough surfaces. The wider tires
will seem well worth the minor increase in weight the first time your route takes you upon an unpaved section of road. Your companions on
skinnier tires will be worried and uncomfortable. You'll be enjoying the ride.
Many people in bicycling will tell you that fatter tires are much slower. The data don't support this. Fatter tires feel much different,
but the actual measured changes in rolling resistance is far less than the difference in feeling. Moreover, my own experience has been that
when I've toured on skinnier tires, I've had to slow down on rough surfaces to accommodate the tires' traction and handling limitations.
Besides, fatter tires get fewer flats, and I've never enjoyed patching a flat.
Those are my preferences on tire width. Go ahead and have your own.
Now you consider "miscellaneous design criteria." Many things fit into this catch-all area. I'll start with frame dimensions. Here is the
list of standard dimensions:
Head tube angle
In racing circles, head tube angle is sometimes made ridiculously steep (75 degrees or more). On your bike, it will probably be 72 or 73
degrees, less if you have a small frame. There is usually little to shop for in head tube angle.
Fork rake
Rake is joined at the hip with head tube angle. Together, these two dimensions determine trail, which determines the bike's steering
stability.
Trail
You want about 2 to 2-1/4 inches of trail.
Top tube length
Even though our torsos vary greatly in size, our top tubes seldom do. Except for the small-front-wheel bikes made by Georgena Terry, the
shortest top tube I've ever seen is 20.5 inches, and that would be on a bike sized for someone five feet tall. At 5'8", I ride a top tube
one to two inches longer than than the 20.5-inch top tube. Top tubes seldom go beyond 23 inches, even in large frame sizes.
If you have problems with upper body comfort, get fitted professionally and see what top tube length your guru recommends.
Seat tube length
Seat tube length is the same as your frame size, and it's determined by your leg length. It's measured from the center of the crank
spindle, along the seat tube, to (pick one; the world isn't standardized) the center or the top of the top tube.
Seat tube angle
In theory, seat tube angle should be married to seat tube length to position you properly over the pedals. In practice, a one-degree change
in seat tube angle only changes the seat position about one third of an inch, which is usually accommodated by adjusting the seat position
on the seat post. So I seldom get too excited about seat tube angle.
A smaller frame -- say, 19-inch frame size -- may have a seat tube angle of 74 or 75 degrees. Larger frames may have a seat tube angle of 72
degrees. This moves the seat farther back, to accommodate the taller rider's longer thigh.
Chainstay length
Chainstays on touring bikes range from about 16-1/2 inches to 18 inches.
It has been a long-held belief that touring bikes should have long chainstays, and indeed, if you're carrying extremely heavy loads, you'll
be better served by the longest-possible chainstays. But my opinion is that this dimension is overrated.
The argument in favor of long chainstays is that they bring the rear panniers inside the wheelbase, to improve the bike's handling.
However, if you actually look at a bike, you'll see that most of the rear pannier's mass is behind the rear axle, no matter how long the
chainstays. Adding an inch to the chainstay doesn't change that much. The more important factor is to use front and rear panniers and
balance your weight among the four panniers.
Bottom bracket height
A lower bottom bracket makes a bike more stable. However, you won't see much variation in bottom bracket height, because the bottom bracket
has to be high enough to allow you to pedal around corners. Don't expect to see bottom brackets lower than 10-1/2 inches or higher than 11
inches on touring bikes.
Wheelbase
Wheelbase is the sum of other dimensions, and is not an important dimension in and of itself (unless you're trying to cram the bike into
the back hatch of your Mini Cooper). Touring bike wheelbases usually range from just under 40 inches to about 42 inches.
Your next question is frame material. Basically, you have two choices: steel and aluminum. And you have people yelling with immense
passion, favoring one or the other. I'm smack in the middle, favoring both. I've toured on both. Both work. Both feel good.
The frame material question brings us to one unique aspect of touring: it demands a stiffer frame than racing. When you weigh down your
frame with luggage, the frame flexes more than an unladen frame. In an extreme case, the frame may shimmy at speed.
Aluminum frames have one great attribute: they are more than rigid enough to avoid shimmy. This is not inherent in aluminum the material,
but is a function of design attributes that all aluminum frames share.
Time was when some steel frames often weren't built quite stiff enough, and were prone to shimmy. This is much less often the case today.
To make a long story short, if a steel frame's top tube is 1-1/8 inch in diameter or bigger (something you can measure), it is probably
immune from this problem. I believe that most shimmy anecdotes can be traced back to the older one-inch top tubes, which are generally less
rigid (depending on wall thickness, which you can't measure).
A steel frame can be repaired in, say, the village welding shop somewhere in Africa. For true expedition tourists, this is a consideration.
But aluminum frames don't break very often.
Does one material ride harsher than the other? Not necessarily. Bike shops are full of dogmatic opinions on this topic, but I suspect that
the perceived ride quality can always be traced to fork design, tire size and pressure, saddle padding, or other factors.
Finally, I'll touch on a few component issues.
Some touring bikes use bar-end shift levers, rather than the integrated brake/shift levers. Why? They're more rugged and cheaper to repair
than integrated levers, and they can be switched to friction mode. Then again, some riders couldn't live without a brake/shift levers
combination. Pay your money and take your choice.
You'll see a bountiful offering of saddles. Consider yourself lucky if the stock saddle is the one you like most. And remember, almost
everyone agrees that (a) the more you ride, the skinnier the saddle you want, and (b) fatter saddles sell better. Don't expect me to fix
this disconnect.
These days, most bikes you'll see have nine-cog rear cassettes. There was a time when we curmudgeons ranted against nine-speed rigs with
their narrow chains. "Too fragile," we said.
We have lost that war, so we might as well win the peace. Nine cogs allow you a great selection of gears without double shifting. As for
the narrow chain, buy a chain tool and spare pins, and learn how to use them.
Having inundated you with nuts and bolts, I fully expect you to behave as I would. You'll go to the bike shop, see one you like, and become
irrationally attracted to the handlebar tape, the saddle, or the color. Know enough of the nuts and bolts that you know why you are making
various technical decisions. Then don't worry about the alternatives you didn't choose. Enjoy the journey. My sunset over the cliffs on the
Pacific Ocean was not to be missed, and I hope you enjoy similar memories.
John Schubert, the Technical Editor of Adventure Cyclist, is the author of all kinds of books and articles relating to
bicycling; he welcomes comments at
schubley@aol.com.
Photos by Mark Hefty and Mark Bryant, image of Seven Cycles courtesy Seven Cycles.
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