Scott Livingston is the General Manager of Horst Engineering and also wrote "Pedal Power" which also appears on this site.

11/14/2002

A particularly nasty crash at the Frank-N-Horst Cyclocross race this past weekend inspired me to write about my favorite bike.  It is a Richard Sachs.  For the second time in three years, I bit the dust on the infamous "drop-off" at the Jonathan Daniels Elementary School in Keene, NH.  At least this year, I crashed during the race, and not during the pre-race warm-ups!

Flashback to November of 1999.  After waiting eight months for my number to be up, I took delivery of my Sachs.  I kitted it out with a mish-mash of new and recycled components.  The livery was Orange with Cream panels, chosen to blend in with the surroundings of my favorite season, autumn.  I hadn't raced the bike until I toed the line for the Le Mans style start at that year's Frank-N-Horst Cross.

During my warm-up, I watched several riders hit the sandy turf trying to navigate the steep drop-off on the back side of the course.  I ignored the other riders' warnings about staying left; I saw the line that I wanted and gave it a go.  That first attempt sent me straight over the bars like a shot.  I was sprawled out right in front of at least twenty cyclocross mad, cowbell clanging fans. 

As the adrenaline surged, I regained my feet and brushed the dirt off my face and out of my hair.  I stretched out my wrenched back and picked up my bike.  Immediately, I experienced a moment of despair.  That moment when you know that your bike is no longer a virgin.  My handlebars must have swung around with a fair amount of force because my frame had a fresh dent in the top tube and that beautiful Joe Bell paint job had its first scuffs.  Just like that first mile off of the dealer's lot in a newly purchased car, my bike was officially "used."

A week later, I recounted the story for an amused Richard at the UMASS Cyclocross.  After certifying the strength of his chosen tube-set, and assuring me that the damage was purely aesthetic in nature, he proclaimed that my bike now had "character." His candor was comforting then, and now, I'm pretty proud of that dent.  After all, Richard Sachs himself singled my bike out and said that it has character!

Fast forward to 2002 and after a year off from cross, I'm back at it with vigor.  Each year, the drop-off in Keene is a little more washed out, and a little more difficult to navigate.  During this year's race, I made it through six of the eight laps without incident, but that seventh was almost a killer.  I don't know what happened.  Maybe I was going too fast.  Maybe I was lacking focus.  Maybe I just lost control.  Once again, I took a header.  This time, in addition to re-denting my frame, I trashed my rear wheel. 

Thanks to that wonderful Sachs geometry, all I had to do was undo my rear cantilever to compensate for the wobble, and the extra wide chain stays allowed me to make it one more lap to the finish.  Now, an extra scratch or two on the bike is like the scrapes on a hockey helmet.  You never hear about hockey players touching their helmets up with finger nail polish.  They wear the scrapes proudly and hope that the image is an intimidating one for their competitors. 

Although a bike with wounds has character, a classic frame with shiny new components is a pretty sight.  One of these days, I'm going to get a Sachs with a fresh JB paint job, hang it naked on a wall and call it modern art.  A mint bicycle is a wonderful thing, but after the first scratch, the luster of owning a perfect bike is gone.  You no longer have to keep it in the living room and it can be relegated to the basement or garage in between rides. 

Still, true beauty is a bike that has been put through its paces.  One that has the battle scars to prove that it is truly a functional assembly of quality parts.  Like a Porsche that has the pedigree of running twenty-four hours at Daytona, a bike that has endured shows that build quality reigns supreme, and that form does in deed follow function. 

My Sachs has been ridden hard on some of the toughest cross courses in New England.  Cross is a discipline where you have got to be comfortable with your bike.  A lousy fitting frame is going to slow you down and prevent you from having the fluid motion that is necessary to maintaining speed during dismounts and remounts.  If the feel isn't right, it might even send you over the bars a time or two. 

I rode a couple of basic stock cross frames prior to investing in a Sachs.  A while back, I used my current spare as a pit bike, but now it is relegated to being a commuter.  I prefer to ride the whole race on my Sachs rather than switch up to an inferior handling bike.  Imagine having a spare Sachs just for the pits.  Now that would be something! Anyway, the Sachs is my best racing machine, and someday, I just might get another. 

It is fitting that True Temper is one of the tubing brands in the blend that Richard uses to build his frames.  True Temper steel is the raw material of choice for some of the finest shovels, rakes, spades, and garden tools available.  My Sachs is in a condition that proves it has been ridden hard and stood up to the rigors of the sport of cyclocross.  Richard's frames meet one of my top quality criteria.  Simply put, they are built to last.  Some might call it irreverence, but I'm proud to say that my Richard Sachs is my favorite tool.