At the Hack Bike Derby in Somerset, England, the participants tried to experience the perfect MTB experience. The only rule: there are no rules. Bikes, race courses, rules - everything had to be created by the participants themselves.
Flannel instead of function, blank instead of race bike: 17 bike builders met deep in the English forest to pedal freshly forged steel bikes through mud and sludge at the Hack Bike Derby. The event is a mixture of a rampage (only those who are invited can take part) and a master craftsman's test (the bikes have to be made for the event). Initiator Andrew Denham invited 17 of the best British frame builders to the premiere in 2016. Task number one: to build a competition bike in the style of the legendary Klunker bikes that started mountain biking in California 40 years ago. 26-inch wheels, steel frame, maximum price of 300 pounds. Task number two: A race weekend with the self-built bikes in the woods of Bruton - on self-built courses.
"Even if there is no rational reason why you should organise the Hack Bike, there is definitely a message," says organiser Andrew Denham: "At Eurobike, I thought to myself again how important it is not to forget the essence of biking. As a frame builder, I of course also have the urge to make things better and better, but this clean, marketing-driven industry thinking gets me down. It feels so empty. Many of us are longing for the wild, raw, original again." You can find a gallery of the participants and their quirky custom creations here... The report on the event can be found on the next page ... (scroll all the way down to read it).
The English and the Finns give each other no quarter in the struggle for absurd events. In Finland, they place their bare bums in anthills for as long as possible. In England, they tumble down a slope behind a rolling cheese or play cricket. The event that frame builder Andrew Denham has created is almost more serious: the Hack Bike Derby - a mixture of rampage (only those who are invited can take part) and masterclass (the bikes have to be made for the event). 17 of the best British frame builders were allowed to take part in the premiere in 2016. Task number one: to build a competition bike in the style of the legendary Klunker bikes that started mountain biking in California 40 years ago. 26-inch wheels, steel frame, maximum price of 300 pounds. Task number two: a race weekend with the self-built bikes in the woods of Bruton - on self-built courses. Andrew Denham is the boss of The Bicycle Academy. He teaches people how to design and build their own bikes, from geometry sketches to welding.
"I was just slogging away. I was completely trapped in my everyday hamster bike and hardly ever out on my bike," he chats: "When I was cycling, it was rarely with a clear head. You test the latest material, new designs and are constantly thinking about things. I wanted to get away from all that. I just wanted to ride my bike. I wanted to go back to my childhood." That's when the idea for the event came to him, says Andrew.
The bike freak with the wildly sprouting multi-day beard grew up as the child of immensely tolerant parents. Mum Denham is not the kind of woman who tends an English lawn. Instead, she catered for the countless children with sandwiches who specially remodelled her garden: into a Garden of Eden for bikes. "We shovelled tracks, converted my sister's little house into a starting ramp, built a pump track, everything," says the now 34-year-old. "We rode any bikes. We didn't care at all!"
This is exactly the spirit that Andrew is all about at the Hack Bike Derby. The frame pros build simple bikes in a very short space of time, head into the forest for a weekend and beat trails into the muddy ground in disgustingly adverse weather. Mum Denham must be glad that her son can now play with a forest owner friend. After all, Andrew's project is a bit more massive and the puddling is even bigger.
Flannel instead of function, wellies instead of FiveTens, blanks instead of racing bikes. The weather at the premiere is expectedly bad. Heavy storms and lashing rain set the scene for the first joint task, the course construction. The three tracks are hacked wildly into the forest rather than perfectly modelled. Great fun.
In the dark the first, sparsely lit race is on: In the dual slalom, man against man battles the mud. Rider after rider crashes, the meadow is a swamp. Tom Donhou dislocates his thumb without realising it. It's not until the second crash that he realises something is sticking out funny. The man at the coffee bar puts his thumb back in place and wraps his hand in bacon to cool it down. Tom grins. The ex-National Downhiller normally builds fine frames in east London. He has already won numerous awards with his forge Donhou Bicycles. Including at the most important trade fair for handmade bikes par excellence: Bespoked in Bristol. And it is precisely there, at the place where the most exquisite bikes are showcased, that the short documentary about the Hack Bike Derby is to premiere. "I really wanted to show the film there. As an antithesis, so to speak," explains Andrew. "It's a bit of a Jekyll & Hyde thing. You've got the person who designed the 10,000 euro high-tech bike that Rapha uses to decorate its stand. And the same person built this unbelievably rubbish hack bike that captures the pure essence of biking."
Tam Hamilton brings one of the most bizarre bikes into the forest. A day late, however, because he first delayed the build and then brutally underestimated it. He worked from 9am to midnight for almost four days - and on the day before the derby so far into the Saturday that he chose to go to bed rather than to Bruton.
"I was so incredibly tired and no longer sane," he laughs. Many people still questioned his sanity on Sunday when they saw his bike. Tam appears as a hack rebel. In his gruesome DH outfit, he is the only one among all the hipster hackers to be functionally equipped. His bike also has disc brakes and gears. Why the look?
"Because I knew I'd annoy the hell out of Andrew." A broad grin spreads across his lips. Tam, the Frankenstein of the Derby, has created a true monster in his madness. On Saturday, at 4 o'clock in the morning, he decided on a disc brake. Cables from a VW Polo handbrake transmit the commands from the self-made levers to the mechanical brake callipers. The gearstick is completely non-functional. The geometry: "A big experiment. I always wanted to build a bike with a double head tube, and the Hack Bike Derby seemed ideal. I'm also not particularly good at welding and soldering and thought I'd rather use really thick, cheap steel tubes. That's how I ended up with 23 kilos." After a pause, Tam adds: "I know it's a nasty creature. But it's totally exciting and I'm sure I'll keep tinkering with it."
Event manager Andrew is delighted: "These are the best British frame builders," he gushes: "Every day, they're all about building elegant, fast, functional bikes. Flawless, perfectly balanced bikes. And suddenly the exact opposite is required. Cheap, fast, simple, raw. We haven't been able to be creative in this way for ages. Totally refreshing!"
The weekend in the forest is also physically refreshing, thanks to the reliably cold, rainy English weather. In the evening, after the dual slalom, we don't cuddle up by the campfire, of course, but build a ramp. Tom breaks his handlebars on the fire jump. It is bent and fixed in the same rudimentary way as his thumb. Only without the bacon. The next day, hungover, we continue chopping and shovelling. The courses for competition 2 (individual downhill with timekeeping) and 3 are on the agenda. The final mass start shows that the game in the mud is also steeped in ambition. "Of course it's about competing. This is a competition. Nothing is given away," says Andrew. In the end, Paul Burford, known as Burf, Tam's partner at BTR Fabrications, triumphs. He is the one responsible for forging and soldering at the company and turned up on time for the derby. He wears an exemplary porn beard and woodchopper shirt. The perfect winner through and through for the first Hack Bike Derby.
None of the bikes that have been churning through the mud this weekend are likely to go into series production. But the derby will. Every spring, exclusive (and international) bike builders are invited to take part in exciting challenges and competitions.
"Even if there's no rational reason why you should organise the Hack Bike, there's definitely a message," says Andrew: "At Eurobike, I thought to myself again how important it is not to forget the essence of biking. I also have the urge to make things better and better, but this clean, marketing-driven industry thinking gets me down. It feels so empty. Many of us are longing for the wild, raw, original again." And after all, a weekend in mud and sweat is a thousand times better than sticking your bare arse in an anthill.
Hack Bike Derby
Breaking down established structures and celebrating the childlike joy of biking - that is the basic idea behind the Hack Bike Derby. Bikes and race courses are built by the participants themselves. After the successful premiere in 2016, the event will now take place annually with different participants and themes. Further information and a short film can be found at www.hackbikederby.com
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