This post has been sitting in my drafts folder for a long time. Originally it was started in response to increasing interest in my Cross Check, both online and while out and about, so it seemed like it might be worth writing about it, a little. Doubts soon set in however, after all the Cross Check has been in the Surly catalogue, essentially unchanged, for more than 20 years now. What relevance could it possibly have in a world of modern gravel and adventure bikes that tends towards a focus on light weight, electronic shifting, and all the latest, and frequently shifting, standards in bicycle design such as through-axles, tapered head tubes, and wotnot. As such this post has been languishing for a while, but on a wet August evening, in what has felt like a deeply weird and oppressive summer here in Cornwall, with no desire to just watch telly, and with precious little else to write about, I may as well push this out. It also has relevance perhaps as I ponder what my hypothetical ideal bicycle for, say, riding from here to Central Asia might be; I’ve decided that it would look an awful lot like this.. but preferably with a little more tyre clearance.
It is oft described as a jack of many trades, master of none, and marked down as a consequence. To do so misses the point of a Cross Check entirely.
It is probably also important to point out that this isn’t intended as a review in the conventional sense of sharing views around “good points vs bad points”. Having seen many reviews of the Cross Check over the years that attempt to make a definitive judgement, I’ve formed the opinion that, in the context of a modern, highly segmented cycling world, it is not a bike that is easily reviewed in an impartial way; it is oft described as a jack of many trades, master of none, and marked down as a consequence. To do so misses the point of a Cross Check entirely.
Being something of a nerdy modern classic, apparently, I’ve seen some very classy examples of Cross Checks around the web. Mine isn’t like that, rather it’s just solid and reliable but with component choices based on longevity and functionality rather than weight or style, or the idea that expensive is always best. It’s a bike born of many years of riding and figuring out what’s important for the riding I like to do, whether that’s knocking around local trails, big days out, riding to a fishing spot, or months-long touring – all of which I’ve done on this bike.
in many respects I think of my Cross Check as being more like a rigid mountain bike with skinnier tyres, than a gravel or cyclocross bike with fatter tyres
It’s also not put together with even half an eye on the scales. I learned long ago, contrary to what the industry will tell you, that it doesn’t really matter a great deal how much your bike weighs. Unless you’re riding a time-trial up Alpe d’Huez, then if you haven’t got the legs the lightest bike in the world won’t help you.. and if you have got the legs then it really doesn’t make a great deal of difference what bike you’re on provided it fits well and puts a smile on your face.
This is actually my second Cross Check. I first put one together in 2005 (I think, or maybe it was 2006, I can’t remember..). It was ace, I hammered it on rough tracks all across the moors, I did some touring on it, and an awful lot of just riding around. At that time I hadn’t yet learned that “stiffer, lighter, and more expensive” doesn’t always make for a better experience, so figuring that, as it was so good, a spendy, lightweight titanium version with a carbon fork would be even better. It wasn’t. It was great on smooth tracks, but on technical, rocky, lumpy stuff it was no match for my old Cross Check, so after a few years of denial I sold it. I’d missed the compliance of the Cross Check frame and fork and its ability to soak up abuse; in many respects I think of my Cross Check as being more like a rigid mountain bike with skinnier tyres, than a gravel or cyclocross bike with fatter tyres. It’s a super, confidence-inspiring frame for flying along singletrack and down rocky trails with gleeful abandon (within limits..). For this class of bike it’s a nimble climber too I find, and geared low as I have it, I can tackle quite technical climbs on it that would otherwise be a struggle on a more conventional gravel bike.
From time to time my head is turned by newer machines, for whatever reason, but I don’t have the confidence that I’d enjoy anything else, on such a variety of terrain, as much as my Cross Check. This one is eight years old, at the time of writing, and seems to be one of those bikes that feels better and better as it ages, rather like a favourite pair of jeans. It is slowly acquiring a patina reflective of all the fun times I’ve enjoyed with it, and looks absolutely spot on with a light coating of dust from the trails. It could well outlast me.
Other than those already mentioned in the captions, there isn’t much else to say about the component choices. I’ve tried a few different handlebars over the past few years and have settled on a Velo Orange Nouveau Randonneur as being just perfect. Not as radically flared as most dirt-drops, they have just enough flare to allow wrist clearance when descending off-road in the drops, but not so much as to make long days on the hoods uncomfortable. The top is slightly ovalised too which I find very nice when climbing in the saddle, especially on dirt. Surly frames tend to be proportionally long in the top tube, this is a 54cm frame and has a top tube of 56cm. Being proportionally long in the leg, short in the body, I’m generally happier with frames around 55 x 55. With the relatively short seat-tube however the Velo Orange tall-stack stem puts the bars in a good place for both touring and dirt adventures, and means I have plenty of top tube ‘knacker clearance’ for mucking about off-road.
As for whether or not I would use it for the long trek to Central Asia (once the pandemic is little more than a memory).. I could, quite easily; after all Robert Jefferson made the journey by bicycle from Catford, London, to Khiva in 1899 on his basic singlespeed of the era (look for his book “A New Ride To Khiva”).
The problem with having more choice is that we have more scope to feel we are using the wrong equipment…
Despite that, I still feel that some rubber a little fatter than the 45c-47c that fits here would be handy, especially for some of the dirt routes through the Caucasus and on to Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan. That would in fact be the only thing I would change, everything else would be just perfect I think. As a wise friend recently said however, in the context of a conversation about bikes and the current vast range of wheel sizes, tyre widths, and gearing choices available, “the problem with having more choice is that we have more scope to feel we are using the wrong equipment“. Not being restricted to the tyranny of a manufacturer groupset, you can just hang all sorts of old and/or interesting bits off a Cross Check and end up with a bike that will keep a smile on your face pretty much forever. Perhaps that’s why people have been asking about mine recently; fatigued by the endless barrage of new kit and marketing spiel shoved down throats every day by the cycling media, something like this starts to look like a good way to sidestep all of that and just get back to enjoying riding. In that sense it’s kind of like a geared fixed-gear.. if that makes any sense at all.
Here’s the build list, for those that still care enough to have read this far:
- Frame & Fork Surly Cross Check, 54cm
- Cranks Middleburn R01 + 110/58mm BCD “Incy” spider
- Chainrings Stainless steel 38/22T (Surly/Blackspire)
- BB Shimano UN55
- Rear Derailleur Shimano SLX 9spd
- Front Derailleur Shimano Ultegra CX70
- Shifters Rivendell
- Cassette Shimano 9spd, 11-28T
- Hubs Shimano LX T670
- Rims Kinlin ADHN
- Tyres WTB Riddler 700x45c
- Brakes Tektro CR720 cantis with TRP levers
- Seatpost On-One Twelfty
- Saddle Brooks Cambium C17
- Handlebars Velo Orange Nouveau Randonneur, 46cm
- Stem Velo Orange Tall Stack 80mm
- Pedals Shimano M540
- Weight Wrong question ;-)
* A drop in the ocean I know, and maybe I’m overthinking things, but I feel that it is important, increasingly so, to be in the habit of thinking about the buying choices we make in the context of the full lifecycle, from extraction of raw materials, to end of life disposal or probability of being recycled, not solely in terms of the immediately obvious benefit or appeal, and what the true cost of that benefit is. Gear shifting is a good example, to have the convenience of pushing a button instead of moving a lever requires lithium extraction and processing, semiconductor manufacture – and the associated toxic materials and energy involved in those processes, plus issues around disposal, and difficulty of recovering materials for re-use. It’s also depressing to see the bin-loads of unserviceable, non-repairable, non-recyclable bike parts in the corner of the workshop in my local bike shop. They do the best they can to at least recover the metal parts for scrap, but it’s not always possible or time-effective to try separate them.