Bring on the electronic MTB components: I’m Stoked

The Stoke is an occasional opinion series highlighting the things that get us stoked about mountain biking. 🤘 👍 👏 🙏

Earlier this year, Singletracks contributor Sam James wrote an opinion piece arguing that modern electronic drivetrain and suspension controls threaten the very soul of mountain biking. I agree. And also: I’m stoked to see even more mountain bike components go electronic. Why? Based on my experience testing electronic gadgets and components and talking with others, I’ve found most of these items are less likely to break, and when they do, you often don’t need a new component, just a software update. Or maybe a quick battery change. And that has me stoked on the future of electronic components.

In a recent chat with David Stearman, one of the owners of my local bike shop, he told me, “people are wrecking derailleurs, they’re wrecking chains by mis-shifting. The timing on [Eagle Transmission] doesn’t allow you to do that. And if you do, and you’re cranking on it too hard, it’s okay. So it saves people from themselves.” Clearly, Stearman wasn’t talking about you or me when he said this but… maybe. If there’s a mountain bike component that I’m less likely to break, I’m all for it.

Thanks in part to this kind of design thinking, electronic drivetrains are already proving to be as reliable if not more so than their fully mechanical counterparts. Yes, I have to charge the batteries on my electronic drivetrain. No, I don’t have to worry about stretched or snapped shifter cables, cable routing, frayed ends, barrel adjusters, or limit screws. Good riddance!

Components that work better the longer you own them

A few mountain bike components get better with age, like a well-worn saddle or a broken-in pair of mountain bike shoes. Electronics, unlike most purely mechanical parts, are capable of the same, in the form of fixes and new features that are just a firmware update away. I’ve already experienced this a number of times, with software fixes for pesky camera, drivetrain, and GPS problems delivered through the ether.

I realize that brands don’t always deliver on the promise of new features or long-term product support, but I’m optimistic that as software becomes a more integral part of the design process and consumers demand it, we’ll see more of a focus on post-purchase updates for mountain bikes and components. Imagine an improved algorithm for your Fox Live Valve that allows your suspension to sense the trail even more accurately, or a new AXS shifter mode where a long button press tells your GoPro helmet camera to start recording. Rather than having to toss your old fork and buy a new one, you can just download the latest features.

Adventuring into the new

Like a lot of riders, I’ve picked up hundreds of tips and tricks for working on bikes and making emergency repairs, and so far most of them don’t involve troubleshooting or ultimately fixing electronics. This is concerning! What if my electronic derailleur just stops working on the trail?!

Earlier today, I pressed the button to raise my standing desk and nothing happened. My first thought: this thing is bricked and I won’t be able to fix it. With all those wires and circuits, the problem could lie anywhere, from a fried transistor to a frayed cable to a jammed gear. In fact, it turned out to be just a loose power cable, which I figured out within a minute or two. Most of us aren’t electronics experts, yet we all know the way to fix the internet is to unplug the router then plug it back in. When it comes to electronics, this trick seems to work at least 95% of the time.

I don’t mean to discount our fear of the unknown, or the fact that learning new skills takes time and effort. Nor do I want to be anyone’s guinea pig, especially if there’s a good chance I’ll end up walking my bike back to the car. But given the advantages, and the state of electronic drivetrain and suspension tech today, I’m ready to make the jump.

Control freak

OK, so even if electronics do somehow make bike components more reliable and upgradable, they also threaten to take control away from us as riders. Why would I want to give up control of my suspension settings or let my drivetrain decide when it’s ok to shift? Bikes are about freedom and independence after all, and without control, we might as well be riding a roller coaster rather than biking down a flow trail called Roller Coaster.

Personally, I live to be in control. I hate flying on airplanes, in part because I’m claustrophobic, and also because, as a passenger on an airplane, I have zero control when the plane hits turbulence or comes in for a tricky landing. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to fly a plane, nor do I have the time or money to invest in pilot training. Control is nice, but so is relying on the expertise of others, like pilots and product designers and pro riders, who are much more skilled and experienced than me. Most days I just want to ride my bike in the woods, not geek out on torque values or suspension settings.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that there’s a real opportunity to improve and enhance our bikes by adding electronics in the right places. Wheels will continue to spin 360° on their axles and our suspension will still rely on the physics of compression and spring rates, but the other stuff—things that are annoying, or tricky to dial in, or just plain hit-or-miss—can be improved with electronics. And no matter what, we’ll certainly continue to pilot our own rigs down the trail.

So whether my mountain bike gets better thanks to a mechanical improvement, or an electrical one, either way, I’ll be stoked to just ride my bike with even fewer worries about my gear.