Rodeo Labs Flaanimal 4.0 Review

Dear Flaanimal,

Yesterday marks a year between us. 12 months of madness, chaos, misery and elation. 12 months of chasing sunsets and racing cars. 365 days of jumping off curbs and wheelies up hills and riding through the day and into the night. We’ve had a run my friend. Oh we’ve had a run.

This is my “Flaanimal 4.0 Review” but to be honest, if you’re here to learn about the headtube stiffness and drivetrain efficiency and weight of the fork you’re in the wrong place. Take this as a cue. Click here instead https://www.youtube.com/user/globalcyclingnetwork

But if you’ve made it this far, maybe we can start a more important conversation- One that will last the ol’ test of time. If there’s anything I’ve learned from legendary photographers like Steve McCurry and Jimmy Nelson it’s that those things that last are those that are the most impactful. Because if you want to make a difference you better be here for more than a year. And if we look back in 10 both your photograph and your bike can’t be shit.

So my Flaanimal, so lovingly named as nothing at all, has changed my life. When I pulled this piece of steel out of that cardboard box a year ago I expected nothing like what I found months later. I wasn’t sure what we would foster...but I think I've found it.

A Flaanimal with it’s steel head tube and steel down tube and steel top tube and stays can sometimes ride like a noodle. When it does this it's because there’s another 80 pounds of gear strapped to it and the handlebars are slapping about wildly as you snap a photo riding no-handed. The point of this anecdote is- this bike handles weight kinda awkwardly. The entire process is endearing, but when you add inertia things get kinda funny. She groans with a push and then settles in for the long. Weight on this bike makes it a gentle, laboring companion with time to spare and roads to see. The pace, the freedom- how I love it.

A Flaanimal with road tires rides like a road bike if your road bike had huevos. A little more pushing for a lot more fun.

Have I been able to do any serious road rides with it even with the extra couple hundred grams?

First off, seriously? Second off, what’s 400 grams when you eat a tub of Ben & Jerry’s twice a week anyways. You’re here for the workout aren’t you?

This bike in a year has ridden at least 25 centuries, and 10 rides over 10k feet of climbing. This bike has ridden 160 miles in a day loaded. It’s climbed 20% grades loaded and it’s climbed them single speed. This bike has ridden through mountain ranges and across deserts. It’s done mountain bike races and gravel races and road races and group rides and party rides. The bike isn’t the point here. It’s you.

Can you ride up a mountain?

Then this bike can too.

This isn’t a bike built for a specific day. It’s a bike to be ridden hard and put away wet. It’s a bike built to ride into and through the ground and put a smile on your face in the process. This bike isn’t one to be complacent if its raining and you’re worried of getting cold or if it’s too rough and you’re afraid of getting hurt. This bike is one for pushing yourself and finding your limits. Because honestly Lance was wrong. Sometimes the bike doesn’t matter. Sometimes it’s all about yourself.

Sometimes the bike doesn’t matter

Sometimes it’s all about yourself.

This bike here with these specific scars, memories and a dent fits so perfectly under my body that days will go by and I’ll forget it’s there. While touring, when the days and weeks start to blur and the fatigue really sets in, the bike passes through a fugue state until it just becomes me and the passing ground. It’s these moments riding turns to flying. It’s these moments reality fades into the wind and you're left there alone with your thoughts. These moments- Chasing beauty and finding rhythm. Rolling hills and pounding drums. There’s music in this wind if you’re willing to chase it and listen.

This bike can bring you there if you’re willing to go. If you’re ready to slap it together and let it drag you through boundaries and barriers. It won’t be the fastest or the flashiest. It won’t be the lightest or the comfiest. But it doesn’t have any of those gimmicks that are going to be obsolete in three years. It has two wheels and a chain and a bottle opener and personality. Whatever you point it at depends on yours.

So at the end of the day I’m not trying to sell you on this bike- But rather I’m trying to sell you on bikes. Not the idea of how owning this bike will make you happier but the fact that you own a bike and that can change the way you see the world. I’m trying to sell you on the idea that your bike doesn’t have to be pigeonholed into Sunday and reserved for circumstance. And it doesn’t need to be spit shined and recorded on Strava to count. It needs to be experienced to count, and the experience starts on the other side of your door and waiting for your Garmin to charge and your Di2 to charge and bike to be repaired just makes you wait for this much too important experience on life. This brown, heavy bike and the freedom it brings rebels against this doomed system of convenience and obsolescence and marketing teams selling a piece of shit as what will make your life better. This bike? It lets you do what you want when you want how you want where you want. And having a bike that just lets you ride is the epitome of freedom. There aren’t any rules here. We shouldn’t need them. There’s already too many.