Strictly speaking, Paul Turner was a wimp. He always had that big gunslinger grin on his face, but he whinged when he was shaken up. But that was exactly his luck - the prissy demeanour was to become Paul Turner's destiny. He is the father of the "RS1" - the most successful invention in bike history. The others were tough: the guys who risked their heads and necks on the downhill, the freaks who tortured their spinal discs in the intoxication of the new freedom, the companies whose bikes were unrideable without a large portion of suffering. Otherwise someone else would have invented the suspension fork long ago, back in the summer of 1986.
Once again, Paul Turner was sitting in the frame shop of his mate Keith Bontrager - a small shop in Santa Cruz, California. Once again, Turner complained of aching shoulders and numb hands. His bike tours were too much rodeo and too little fun, he complained. He no longer felt like it. But the solution to the problem: suspension, at least for the front.
For Turner, this was not a flash of inspiration, but logic. As a former motorbike racer and Honda mechanic, he had a lot of experience with chassis. The only real question was: how do you fit this jumble of technology into a filigree bike? Bontrager and Turner worked for months on possible designs. The fork had to be light, flat and, if possible, only react to obstacles - i.e. dive quickly and glide back again with damping.
The name "Rock Shox" was fixed right from the start. Turner only held the first prototype in his hands a year later. He had done it: five centimetres of suspension travel, air suspension, damping with oil: a telescopic fork like a motorbike, but in bonsai format. Turner knew that he had achieved a stroke of genius and secured the patent "4,971,344". The rest of the bike world grabbed its head. Who needs this motorbike stuff on their bike?
"Everyone", dictated Greg Herbold two years later in the notepad of the then BIKE editor-in-chief Uli Stanciu. He had just raced to victory in the World Cup Downhill in Cannes on a pre-production model of the "RS1". Sweat was still dripping from the white eggshell helmet when Herbold pointed to his bike: "Take it". BIKE man Stanciu didn't need to be told twice and shot off. It was the first ride report in a magazine. "The bike no longer dances back and forth," enthused Stanciu afterwards, "I had the feeling of perfect control."
The ride report sounded like a declaration of love from a woman who, after years with a macho man, was finally cuddling up in the soft arms of a softy. Then things went from strength to strength: the component giant Diacompe took over the production and distribution of Rock Shox. A thousand forks were launched in 1990. Six years later, the "RS1" broke the million barrier and Turner's cowboy grin stretched from ear to ear.
The difference to other forks was the technical sophistication. Main competitor Manitou initially only offered a simple rubber bumper with the comfort of an old sofa. Marzocchi's first attempt ended up as a biker quote: "What licks better than a blonde? A Marzocchi XC" - the oil oozed out of all the seals. While numerous companies were trying to jump on the soft wave, Rock Shox had long since outgrown the stage of being a simple technical component. It was a lifestyle, a brand and a synonym for progress in the bike industry. When normal people on the street meant suspension, they said Rock Shox.
Turner rose from garage mechanic to the upper echelons of big business. He was not the father of the mountain bike, but the godfather who really got the party going with his ingenious idea. He left the realisation to others. Rock Shox revolutionised bike technology. It used to be ridiculed. Today, purists without suspension forks are regarded as weirdos. Over 250 people work at Rock Shox. Turner himself has returned to his roots. He builds hand-picked suspensions - now under the name Maverick. The fight against vibration has become a philosophy of life. He is and remains a softy.
