People talk a lot about the “quiver killer,” mostly in regards to a drop bar bike that can do road and mountain bike riding but Juniper’s “everything bike” is a bit more utilitarian than that…

This was my first bike built up from the frame. I’m an old hand with a wrench, and feel comfortable covered in grease. I’ve swapped and chopped plenty over the years, but this was the first time I’ve put together a bike from scratch to ride exactly the way I want it to. The brakes aren’t routed wrong, I ride right-front.

She started practical and affordable – a build that wasn’t going to excite either modern or retro component fetishists, just an expression of my specific needs, filtered through what was ready to hand in the parts bin of the local community bike shop I volunteer at. I needed pedals that were wide for comfort and trail riding, but relatively untextured so they wouldn’t mess up cute shoes when I’m out on the town, and silver because aesthetics. These were the ones we had. Same with the cranks, the cassette, and so forth.

In many ways, this bicycle is a record of my community. When I walked in with the frame on my first day of the build, the head mechanic took one look at it, said “I’ll be right back,” and went downstairs to the used parts section. When he came back up he handed me the wheels without a word. The saddle he had hidden away somewhere, waiting to offer to a customer with a bike that he deemed to be worthy of it. The tires were a gift from his personal collection – he’d intended on embarking on a tour with them, but decided to go with different ones at the last minute. He just came back from tour recently, all trail-hardened and handsome. A dear friend bought me the low-normal derailleur on a whim, simply because they’d heard I liked them.

I swapped out the large chain tension cog with the 14 tooth one from my Altus. The Rivendell shifter mounts were a very generous gift from my beautiful girlfriend, who surprised me with them while I was recovering from surgery over the summer, and looking with increasing longing at the bike I wasn’t yet allowed to ride. I giggled as I put stickers on the virgin frame while a roadie friend looked on in horror. My philosophy is that stickers should be placed on the bike like tattoos. Rachel has sleeves and a tramp stamp.

When given the choice between two equal options, I will always choose the funniest one. I almost put on a high-normal Suntour front derailleur because it amused me to imagine cancelling out one of the benefits of low-normal rear derailleurs. The brakes are perhaps the silliest detail. At first entirely functional Avids from the parts bin, I took the opportunity to snap these up when the shop received a donation of 90s mountain bike parts from a retired grav dad. They are entirely unnecessary and over-engineered (I am of the opinion that conventional v-brakes have more than enough stopping power on their own), but it pleases me to have not one but two dead-end branches of the brake design evolutionary tree. I love them, and they make me laugh.

The handlebars were initially Billie bars with goofy home-made grips and bar-end shifters I scored for cheap from a fancy bike shop that caters exclusively to the local peloton. They didn’t even advertise they had them, I got a tip from a fellow volunteer, and had to go up to the desk and say “word on the street is…” Turns out they had a stash of Dura-Ace friction shifters in the back they hadn’t touched in years. They were desperate to be rid of inventory they’d otherwise never sell. Despite the fact that these bars were by far the most expensive thing on the bike, they didn’t flare quite enough for cornering on trails and I ended up swapping them out for some anonymous tourist bars from the bins. Less fancy, but more perfect.

“Less fancy, but more perfect” is perhaps precisely how I want to think about bikes. If this bike is beautiful, I think it has the beauty of a well put together thrift store outfit. Eclectic but deliberate, practical but characterful, tied together by frivolous accessories like brass crank caps which to me have the quality of jewelry: they complete the look.

She’s not done yet, of course. The rear rack is far too wimpy to handle fully loaded touring, and I’d like to make my own bags soon. The shop has been promising to run a wheelbuilding workshop, and I’ll probably thread the rims onto silver hubs when they do. When I wear out the tires I would like some even bigger ones. Maybe I’ll get some cute Ultradynamicos, or maybe I won’t. And at some point I will probably end up shelling out for custom bars, because I won’t be satisfied until it looks like I’m steering my bike with the antennae of some exotic species of beetle. And really nothing feels better than bar-end shifters.

Perhaps unlike many people who love bikes, I shrink from the idea of having more than one. I would much rather have one bike that does 80 or 90 percent of what I could possibly want to do on a bike than multiple bikes which do one thing perfectly. And let’s be honest I don’t have that kind of space or cash. So I have a commuter and grocery hauler, a tourer and gravel grinder, and, with some care, I can rock some singletrack when my girl drags me out on trails. I don’t need a winter bike; I’ll ride her through the snow. Cycling isn’t a sport for me, it’s simply how I get around. That ONE LESS CAR sticker isn’t for show.

I initially chose the Rachel as my I Am Reluctantly Forced To Admit Will Never Be Able To Afford A Rivendell compromise frame, with its suitably long chainstays, large tire clearance, relaxed frame geometry, and classic aesthetic. But now she’s my bike and I wouldn’t swap her for the world. I love that the frame is slightly too big for me, but I can get away with it because it’s a step through. I love the way the long chainstays make the ride feel, both on the road and when I’m rumbling over roots and rocks. I love being able to put huge knobby tires on a frame that looks like it should be fussy and delicate. I love telling people her name is pronounced “ra-SHELL, because she’s French.” I love explaining why my brakes look so weird. I love that she’s mostly made out of spare parts. I love insisting to everyone that she is, in fact, a mountain bike. I love that she is a record of people who love me. I love my bike.

Bread & roses,
🌲Juniper

Build Spec:

Frame: Bassi Rachel
Tires: 700×32 Teravail Rampart
Bars: Anonymous Parts Bin
Stem: Nitto x Parts Bin
Shifters: Shimano 9sp Dura-Ace levers on Rivendell Silver mounts
Saddle: So worn you can’t read the logo anymore, but definitely not Brooks
Grips: Oury
Derailleurs: Custom-modded Shimano C201 Rapid-Rise (R), Suntour AR (F)
Cassette: 12-38 7-speed rear
Crankset: 38/24 front
Brakes: Avid ArchRivals (F), Shimano Deore XT (R)
Pedals: Patented Non-Shoe Scuffing Parts Bin Pedals
Wheels: Mavic CXP21 rims on Deore hubs

We’d like to thank all of you who submitted Readers Rides builds to be shared here at The Radavist. The response has been incredible and we have so many to share over the next few months. Feel free to submit your bike, listing details, components, and other information. You can also include a portrait of yourself with your bike and your Instagram account! Please, shoot landscape-orientation photos, not portrait. Thanks!