Over the years, I’ve written several pieces attempting to match the right bike with the right person. I’ve written about the right bike for aspiring commuters, I’ve written about the right bike for roadie wannabes, I’ve written about the right bike for people who want to take a spin on their local greenway and the right bike for folks curious about mountain biking. One bike I haven’t written about, though, is a bike that can do it all — a little greenway, a little road, a little off-road.
A bike I’ve long suspected to be the cyclocross bike.
In appearance, a cross bike resembles a road bike. They were developed for cyclocross racing, a pursuit created a century ago by European road racers trying to stay in shape over the winter. The races take place off road, involve mud and have various obstacles that require a fair amount of hoping off the bike, throwing it over your shoulder and carrying it. As a result, the bikes have a higher bottom bracket

(to avoid hitting bumpy things), widely-spaced stays to keep mud from clogging the wheels, cantilever brakes for better stopping and, most noticeably, moderately knobby tires (on roadbike-like 700 cc wheels) for grip. And, because of they carrying involved, they need to be light.
While cyclocross racing has long been a staple in Europe, it’s a relatively recent import to the states. In the last five years it’s enjoyed growing popularity in the North Carolina Cyclo-Cross Series. Though the bike is intended for cyclocross, I’ve noticed them increasingly in non-competitive venues. Last summer, for instance, I was at the start of the weekly Oh Melo Velo ride out of Cary when I noticed something a little different about the bike next to me.
“Cross bike?” I asked.
“I have an extra wheel set that I keep the road tires on,” he said, explaining the presence of the thinner, smooth road tires in place of the knobbies.
Cross bikes are a common sight on the finely crushed gravel bike and bridle trails at Umstead State Park, and they’re regulars on local greenways as well. A few year’s back I wrote about a group of mostly crossbikers who did 40-, 50- and 60-mile rides utilizing the greenways of Raleigh and Cary.
Despite a preponderance of evidence, I’d never tested my thesis that if you could have only one bike (a silly thesis, I admit) it should be a cross bike. Then, late last fall, I ran into my old buddy Curtis Dobbins reviving rides in the bike shop at the Durham REI. “Hey, let me show you something,” he said.

Curt, it turned out, was contemplating what to knock off next on his life list: 13 years as a road racer, check; a stint running an outfitting service in Hawaii, check; raise two kids, check. Next to his workstation was the prototype for his next step: A hand-built cross bike, replete with a precision-welded, snow-white frame, SRAM Force drive train, hand-built wheels with flat-blade, aero spokes; Selle San Marco Regal saddle, Campagnolo Record Titanium seatpost and a host of other top-of-the line components well beyond the capabilities of this recreational rider. I drooled. Then I swooned.
“Wanna take it for a test ride?”
I spent this past week doing just that.

I picked up the bike on Tuesday, was short on time, decided to take a quick, get-acquainted spin around the neighborhood. I wound up doing a 23-mile road ride. What I noticed most was how well it climbed: Even with the knobby tires, it cruised up the hillier stretches of High House Road and Cary Parkway.

Sunday was the true test. I put together a route that included road, greenways (Cary’s Black Creek, Raleigh’s Reedy Creek) and off-road (Umstead’s bike and bridle trail).

• Impression No. 1: High-pressure (120 psi) road tires are great for speed, but they pass along every imperfection asphalt can offer. The crossbike’s knobbies (aided perhaps by the high-tech wheels) made for a much smoother, shock-absorbent ride. The knobbies offer more rolling resistance, but the trade-off (especially for my 53-year-old body) was worth it.
• Impression No. 2: The bike may be too fast for the greenway, at least during peak traffic.   I rarely ride the greenways on my road bike, mainly because it’s too fast for the typical greenway’s gentle but frequent turns, turns that are often blind and can reveal walkers and runners with only a moment’s notice. (That’s why most greenways have speed limits — not always posted — of 10 to 15 miles per hour.)
• Impression No. 3: Impression No. 2 aside, those knobby tires are especially welcome on older greenways sporting tree-root speed bumps.
• Impression No. 4: Once a week, I do a training ride on my mountain bike on Umstead’s bike and bridle trails. It’s a long, slow ride, the emphasis on time in the saddle as opposed to getting faster. Sunday’s ride on Maggie (longish story, read last week’s post)  was a revelation. It is, I discovered, possible to accelerate going uphill on a glorified fire road. This is where the bike truly shined. The five-mile stretch of bike & bridle between the Lake Crabtree neighborhood entrance and Trenton Road has some good pulls. The cross bike pulled them with ease. I actually enjoy climbing; I was giddy climbing on this bike.
• Impression No. 5: From the Trenton Road access to Umstead there’s about a two-mile stretch on Reedy Creek Road that’s billed as being bike friendly. In fact, it’s a narrow lane of asphalt with an elevated island; there’s precious little room for a car to pass, let alone an SUV. Thus, your goal is to pedal through this stretch as quickly as possible — and it’s mostly uphill. Fear-induced adrenaline gets some credit here, but again, the cross bike was adept at climbing.
• Impression No. 6: With about five miles to go, I discovered my legs were dead. Never a good discovery with five miles to go, especially unwelcome when you’re battling a stiff, cold crosswind most of the way. A mountain bike or hybrid would have ridden like a tank under such circumstances. While a road bike would have been easier on dead legs, Maggie was kind enough. She got me home without a whine or whimper.

Admittedly, there’s an asterisk with my cross bike experiment. Maggie is a precision, top-of-the line machine. The version I test rode will likely fetch around $5,000 when Curt goes into production. I’ve done enough test rides on nice bikes (including a Serotta that topped out around 10 grand) to realize there is a difference between this bike and it’s $1,000 counterpart.

Still, factoring in the excellence factor, it’s hard to imagine a bike that covers more bases — and in the end, more ride for your buck — than a cross.