Can fat bikes really cut it when it comes to proper mountains and snow? Only one way to find out…
Fat bikes are everywhere at the moment. Originally created so that the unlucky buggers stuck up in the frozen rump of the world canget a riding fix during the winter, they've come down from their icy hinterland to invade other parts of the world, throwing their weight about and relieving people of their money. It's essentially the Vikings all over again.
Their proponents cite their ability to ride on a variety of soft surfaces while their detractors point out that just because you can do that, it doesn't mean it's more fun than riding a normal bike on normal terrain. While people argue back and forth about how good they are on trails or how you could go on a huge expedition, you know, if you wanted to, we thought we'd answer the question really at stake here. Are fat bikes the school run SUVof the cycling world or can they cut it when you take them to a proper mountain to do some real biking?
Test tracks
As responsible testers, there was only one thing we could do. Head to a place that has both mountains and snow to pit your common or garden trail bike against fat bike in a race that would really test how well they work, with a mix of riding up but a focus on going back down again. A snowduro, if you will.
Happily, our friend Sam from holiday company, Bike Village in the French Alps, had already been mooting such an idea like a Bond villain cooped up in a hollow mountain. He'd rounded up a gaggle of similarly minded people keen to take tyres of differing widths to the snow for a day of hooning. Dates were set and flights were booked.
Even before we arrive, tech ed Tom and myself learn a number of things. One, it's really hard to fit a fat bike in a normal bike bag. Secondly, people look at you like you're a fool if you're obviously taking something that isn't skis or a snowboard through Geneva airport in winter. This would be a familiar reaction over the next few days.
With a door-to-door transport service provided by Skiidy Gonzales, we're soon out of the way of puzzled eyes and safely installed in the Bike Village chalet, in the village of Landry, looking up at the Les Arcs ski resort. With the log burner turned up to 11, it's time to assemble bikes and rummage through the mountain of warm kit we've brought along.
For the following day's ride, Tom's chubby other half will be a Surly Ice Cream Truck Ops, complete with 3.8in wide tyres, thumb shifters and complete lack of suspension. I'm on a fine example of the trail bike breed, my long-term Mondraker Foxy Carbon, with lots of suspension, a dropper post and the only special addition for this outing, a set of Bontrager's spiky G-Mud tyres.
Conditions up until this point had been relatively low on snow. Not so good for skiers, but enough to convince more than a few of the valley's summertime riders to go out and buy fat bikes instead of destroying skis on exposed rock. This gang would be joining us, along with a few thin tyred compatriots. The only issue we faced was that the weather had taken a turn and we were due what the locals described as a "big dump" in the next few days. Assuming that referred to the snow conditions, things seemed to be swinging firmly in favour of the fat bikes. Well, skis, snowshoes or a snowboard would have been the obvious choice, but without a last minute rebrand of this magazine, we were committed to doing this on two wheels.
As morning arrives, we're greeted by a couple of beautiful sights; the face of freshly arrived jet-setting snapper Dan Milner, but even more pleasingly, clear blue skies and only a small dusting of fresh snow on the ground.
To the slopes
Once at the top of the mountain, our route takes us up a gentle climb before heading down a summertime singletrack descent called Cheeky Monkey. Tim and Neil join us on their fat bikes, while flying the flag for skinny tyres are Matt, Emily and Sam. As we start up the hill, it quickly becomes obvious that on everything but the gentlest gradients, the fat bikes have it on the climbs. The wider footprint means that an easy cadence can be kept, while our trail bikes tend to dig in and bog down on all but the hardest packed snow, requiring constant nurturing to maintain momentum. That said we're making decent enough progress, with the mud spike tyres helping hugely.
At the top of the trail it's time to put saddles down and get on with the real task. This is where the fancy trail bikes with dropper posts fitted fail further. It turns out they don't like the cold, which means a steep, tight and icy descent with a saddle at full height. This is going to be a very Cheeky Monkey indeed.
Tim proves why his nickname is "110%" by avoiding the trail altogether and launching his fatty off the edge of the piste, straight lining a switchback. I curse component makers and try to come to terms with the ideal balance point between the front tyre digging in and trying to flip me over, having enough weight to make the steering work and not losing my innocence to the saddle. It's hard to tell whether the brakes are working either, as locking up and keeping rolling feels identical. However, the air is already full of cackling laughter as we slither down a tight gully. Neither bike seems to have more of an advantage here, with local knowledge being more important as we hit tight switchbacks.
Neil may well be on a fat bike, but the Vee tyres are smooth and the lack of edge tread means he's really having to work hard to keep the bike pointed in the right direction. Between the gradient and a mix of snow, the odd bit of exposed rock and the light blue terror of sheet ice, it's a heady mix. We're all pretty evenly matched and it's hugely rideable and massively good fun. It's a draw, though having suspension definitely helps on the rougher sections.
With a few hundred vertical metres of descending shot within mere minutes, we're back at the bottom for our next test, a small snowshoe loop that Sam's dug in to see who'll fare best on the winter equivalent of singletrack.
With a foot wide track stamped in between the trees on a gentle undulating path, it's a bit like riding North Shore planking, except you can't really see the edge and it can still give way at any moment. Make that rotten North Shoe planking in deep fog, though at least crashing out is entirely consequence free. As soon you stray from the packed down snow, you get stuck in the softer stuff at the edge and without momentum to help, it's almost impossible to get going again, regardless of which bike you're on.
After dragging, pulling, tumbling and stumbling, we are all in agreement. We either need harder packed snow or steeper gradients. This one is best left to people in snowshoes, as Dan proves, striding jauntily by to set up his next photo.
A well-earned, high calorie lunch later, we're back at the top of the hill, gently burping local Beaufort cheese into the air. Our next test takes in some drifty, piste-bashed corners before moving up past a lonely chapel, along a small traverse and then back down through a powder field. After numerous lurid slides, we're against an impasse. When it comes to high-speed turns, there's little in it between a decently spiky set of normal tyres and fat rubber, and by that we mean there's little warning between a nice speedway slide and a rapid pile driver straight into the ground, though the fat bike rubber seems to offer no real advantage. We'll call this a point for trail bikes, mostly because longer, more relaxed geometry means you can stay in control a bit longer before falling off.
When we hit the deep powder slope, it's a different story. The fat bikers only need a small bit of momentum before they're up and running, throwing great swathes of snow into the air, while I struggle to get up enough speed to even get started. Once I do, the bike is surprisingly easy to carve turns into the powder, the front rising up as the speed increases. As I'm busy hooting with laughter, I hit a soft patch and get thrown over the bars again. We'll give this round to the fat bikes I suppose.
A fight to the last light
As the light begins to fade, it's time to get off the mountain and back down to Landry. Happily, there's a singletrack descent all the way back down and as the snow thins and the speed increases, we really start to duel. It's here that suspension starts to come into its own and while the rigid fat bikes get bounced about and knocked off line, their bigger footprint doesn't countfor as much. It's a flat-out and occasionally terrifying rip to the valley floor, with the odd section of sheet ice hard to pick out in the dull light, causing panic braking followed by an undignified bum-scoot to get across it. The safety blanket of deep powder snow's gone too, so consequence-free crashing is no longer on the cards.
The trail bikes definitely have the advantage here, though following Neil as he slides wildly through corners on his fully rigid fatty has been worth the price of entry alone. It's one of the most memorable and entertaining descents I've ever done.
As we hit the final turn and pop out on the road just above the chalet, it's quite easy to decide who the winner here is. Bikes, in whatever shapes they come in are bloody amazing fun. However, if you are going to go somewhere snowy with mountains in winter, there's a lot to be said for skis.