Surly Pug Ops - Fatbike Review

So it's been a while since I posted properly, and a few things have developed since then. Firstly, I am now the proud owner of a Surly Pug Ops fatbike (more on this in a moment), secondly we have booked the flights, and thirdly we now have 3 possible route options which (we hope) will allow for poor conditions, more volcanoes going 'pop' and generally varying levels of fitness.

So, to the bike...

There are a few fatbikes on the market at the moment, and the options are continually increasing as more and more manufacturers see fatbikes as either a profitable bandwagon to jump on, or a legitimate new type of bike for the future. The jury is still out on whether they're a passing fad, as most people aren't really going to be crossing deserted islands or riding in snow and sand. But for those who are, fatbikes are a sensible option. Okay, they may look like the lovechild of a monster truck and a mountain bike, but all of that tyre width provides masses of area to distribute the weight of the bike, and so provide grip and prevent sinking into the soft stuff.

Of the many brands making fatbikes, the likes of Surly and Salsa stand out. Not least because they've been at the forefront of fatbike development since it's inception, but also because they tend to lean towards the rugged trekking/bikepacking end of the spectrum. Whereas more mainstream manufacturers (Specialized, Trek etc) are currently making trail bikes with massive tyres. With over 500km of riding to do, and carrying all of our own kit for 10 days in the wilderness, I care more about rugged reliability than how the thing goes around bermed corners at my local trail centre.

So after an extended period of research, and asking advice from people in the know, I opted for the Surly Pug Ops. It's steel, has mechanical disc brakes, doesn't have the very fattest tyres (3.8" not 4.8") and isn't at all lightweight. What it is, from the minute you look at it, is tough. Really really tough. This is the Grant Mitchell, the Vinnie Jones, the Giant Haystacks of the biking world. It aint going to win any beauty awards, but it sure as hell isn't going to cry if you use bad language at it either.

Obviously I feel madly in love with the Pug the moment I clapped eyes on it, how could you not? But I did have a major reservation; was it going to be really heavy to ride? Was getting those monstrous tyres up to speed going to be too much hard work? After years of painstakingly skimming weight from my other bikes, I looked at the Pug and was expecting pain. Thankfully, it turns out I was completely wrong. Okay, so it's not as nimble as my road bike, or sprightly my XC bike, but it's by no means a slouch, and once up to speed the beastie rolls along beautifully. What's more, the ride is accompanied by a very satisfying rumbling from those gargantuan tyres.

Offroad the Pug is exceptional. What seems like an impossibly small granny ring (22t) paired with 36t rear is the kind of thing which turns the wheel so slowly it initially looks pointless. But the grip on the Pug is so astonishing you find that you can pop it into the lowest gear, and bimble up just about any incline, no matter how muddy or loose. The only barrier to the most insane angles is your sense of balance. In Iceland, loaded up with kit, this is the kind of thing which may separate me from success, and collapsing into a ditch wheezing like a chain-smoker running the Marathon de Sables.

All of that said, the Pug is still a heavy bike. So I need to get stronger to ride it. To do this, I've elected to ride only the Pug between now and the trip to Iceland in July. That means commuting 35km per day through Bristol on it. And this brings me to another point; the reaction the bike brings out in other people. Fatbikes are still sufficiently rare in Bristol that I've yet to see another one. So when you rumble past another commuter you tend to raise a reaction, and 99 times out of a hundred that reaction is positive (or at the very least bewildered). People want to know what it's like to ride, they point and smile, or shout encouragement as I slowly crawl up yet another hill on my way to work. When I stop at the lights, car drivers actually grin at me and say nice things... yeah, I know? Car drivers?! Even my wife wanted to try it, and she tends to view my bike obsession as only marginally preferable to having an affair.

In short, the Pug is an absolute blast to ride and I cannot wait to take it to Iceland for the big challenge. In the meantime, if you see me riding through Bristol (you'll hear me coming before you see me) feel free to beep your horn and/or wave. Everyone else does!