Sometimes, the best tool for the job is an older tool. That’s what Riley found with the Panasonic RTB. Let’s check out a great write-up and gallery for this week’s Readers’ Rides!
There’s too much stuff in the world, making it so that ya gotta come up with ways to differentiate certain stuff from other stuff. It started as soon as we bashed some rocks together to make stone tools for slicing up carrion to bring back into the trees. Right after we found the perfect hammer stone to break open hard nuts. Specialization. Tools for tasks.
“Hey, hand me that rock. No, the sharp rock”.
“Oh, that red berry makes you vomit, the blue ones don’t”.
“I’m thinking about trying to fit some 35s in my road bike for the race, but I may just ride my gravel bike instead. I’m not going to win anyway”.
Three million years of specialization leading to differentiation, and look where it’s gotten us. Gravel riders desperately hoping not to be lumped in with the roadies, XC mountain bikers saying the best gravel bike is a hardtail, and some old head saying if you ride a bike in the mountains, it’s a mountain bike. A gravel road is a road after all, does that mean the best road bike is an XC mountain bike? Is the Tour Divide still a mountain bike race if there’s hardly any single track on it? I’m sure a full sus would feel awful nice on the cobbles of Paris-Roubaix, but is it fast? I’m sure it would be safe. Does safety = speed? In a city dominated by paved roads, is a mountain tire better than a road tire because of potholes, curbs, and slick streets? Expensive new bike? Cheap old bike? Stuff, specialization, differentiation, activities, choice. It overwhelms me to think just how much stuff there is sometimes, and how much choice we have if we look around too hard.
Anyway, Panasonic was an early adopter of a term that has seen recent discourse. “ATB”, all-terrain bicycle. They came out with the Panasonic ATB in the 1980s, it’s your pretty standard old rigid MTB. And while my bike is technically an all-terrain bicycle, it is not a Panasonic ATB. It is an RTB, what the “R” in RTB stands for I do not know. If any Panasonic historians would like to enlighten the world, please do in the comments, and I’ll give you a forehead kiss. Panasonic is a Japanese company so perhaps it’s one of those cheeky mistranslations for the English-speaking market like the old Suntour “Spirt” front derailleur. Spirt? Is it supposed to be Spirit? Who knows? I’m not sure what year this RTB is from, my scrounging on google images has only shown other RTBs with a brazed fork crown rather than the uni-crown fork that mine has so I wasn’t confident to declare to the world the exact year. Let’s say mid to late 1980s.
Right after I broke my Crust Romanceur, but before it was reforged and dubbed the “Bad Romance,” I still needed a hot lil’ bike to pedal around on. I found this RTB at the most wonderful community bike shop in all of Colorado Springs, CO, Pedal Station Community Bike Center. Thank you, Pedal Station. I love you. The price was right at just over 200 dollars, and the bike was in immaculate shape, damn near stock straight from the 80s. Like someone bought it new and left it in the garage for 40 years. I yoinked it right up, and not necessarily being one to keep old bikes old, I swapped some choice parts for my aesthetic and functional needs. Specialization. Choice.
From the start, I knew I wanted this bike to be an all-around do anything machine, and if you get a chance to own one of these frames, I suggest snagging it immediately. It really does its job well, old enough to be a little funky, new enough to be built up easily. It’s outstandingly slack and has miles of tire clearance set up in either 26’ or 650b. No special brakes needed to switch to 650 B, just some old Tektro Cantis I had lying around. I do think the 650b upgrade gets rid of some of the front-end flop factor I was feeling when it was 26’, I don’t know.
Pair that distinct slackness with a comfy cruiser bar, grips in line with the steering axis, get your ass waaaayyy back over the rear tire, rest your chest on the saddle, ape-hang off those bars, and this bike is an absolute joy to point downhill. Whether it’s courthouse steps with “No Bicycles/Skateboards” signage, rolling Gunnison gravel, or Moab slickrock, this bike has gotten me down things I’d rather do on my all-mountain hardtail. If I had to ride something like The Whole Enchilada in Moab on a rigid bike, it just might be this one (but really, I’d rather do that on something like a Stooge MK8 with a dropper post).
Speaking of asses over the back tire, this bike also climbs very well. With a nice wide range triple up front, swept back bars, and a loaded saddle bag hanging off the back, you can shift your weight around a little and get loads of traction on your rear tire to winch your way up damn near any backcountry fire road or up any ridiculous paved side street in the tuberculosis colony of Manitou Springs.
I think every bike enthusiast should get a bike like this. The upright position, friction shifters, and plump tires make this bike disappear underneath you. The bike feels simple; it feels like it will just do the things you would like to do as they come, not too much to think about. Not much differentiation to worry about. Something to clear the head of the complexities of choice. Something to help you just enjoy motion. I don’t think I could pedal this bike “in anger” if I tried.
This bike has been a pleasant surprise in my life, and I’ve had some good times with it, even though it was bought and built as a quick replacement for what some might consider a better bike. Bikepacking overnighters through Colorado. Exciting and Abbey-Esque adventures around Moab and getting into Arches National the back way (It’s free that way). A trip to the East Coast for a super soft time at the Nutmeg Nor’easter. Countless coffee cruises and, of course, the occasional mushroom-enhanced putz around town with a good pal.
Blessed to have a small stable of bikes, I find myself often reaching for this one to go out on the local Wednesday social ride, and still occasionally point it down some slick rock. This is a bike capable of hopping on and touring around the world at a leisurely pace, just as much as it is a grocery getter. Plus, it fulfills my deep desire for a British racing green bike with shiny silver parts.
Build Spec:
- Wheels: 650b Velo Orange Voyager rims and hubs, retired from the Tour Divide.
- Tires: 2.2 Rene Herse Umtanum Ridge, standard casing, hand-me-downs.
(This bike did really well with 26’ Ultradynamico Mars tires too)
- Brakes: Tektro CR720.
- Brake levers: DIA COMPE DC135. I really like the little nub on the ends.
- Derailleurs: Shimano Deerhead in the back, Suntour Mountech in the front.
- Crankset: Takagi AR-T triple.
- Shifter: Shimano Deerhead SL M7000
- Saddle: An old Brooks Flyer Special I got for 50 bucks at Pedal Station and cut the gooch out of.
OK, hot takes on Brooks. Leather is leather, you don’t need to use Brooks Proofide, any ol’ leather treatment will do, especially if it’s an old saddle, it’s not that deep. DON’T BE AFRAID TO MODIFY YOUR LEATHER SADDLES. Cut out that gooch slit, lace up those ears, tweak that tension bolt. Absolutely no reason a broken-in leather saddle should be uncomfortable or cause sores.
- Stem: A cool Ritchey Force quill stem with pretty tig welds
- Bars: SyCip Wonder Bar, it really is a wonderful bar. Ergon GP1 Grips.
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!