Throwback Thursdays #2: Trek Y-Series

Wind the clock back to the late 1990's and the mountain bike market was a very different place. Full suspension bikes were breaking through and turning heads left, right and centre. No longer did a rider have to suffer the constant jarring impacts a hardtail dishes out. Even those who wanted to climb up the hill before riding down now had a viable alternative. Full suspension bikes were being subjected to rapid dieting and weights were coming down. Specialized and GT, among others, were quick to bring out new linkage designs in efforts to win over consumers. It was a changing market, and ready to accept any wacky inventions that could be thought of.

The Trek Y22 was a groundbreaker, using OCLV carbon fibre technology before the turn of the century!
Photo retrieved from NSMB, labeled for reuse.

While all this was going on, Trek released what was dubbed as the 'Y-series'. With a range of models all sharing a distinctive Y-shaped main frame, Trek took a gamble by using a simple single pivot design. However, with suitable geometry and a relatively low weight on the aluminium Y3 and Y5 models, they had hit a winner. And that was forgetting their biggest draw card - the Y22. Trek certainly flexed their muscles when creating the Y22 - it was one of the first carbon fibre frames to hit the market. Unfortunately, it's high price made it an exclusive piece of kit. Still, it gained a place in mountain bike folklore and gave inspiration to modern day carbon fibre frames.

My trusty Y5 went everywhere with me. Photo by Pekka Rummukainen

I encountered the Trek Y5, the baby brother of the Y-series, in 2006 when looking for my first real mountain bike. I mentioned the search for this bike in my previous article about the Marzocchi Z1. The combination of the orange Z1's and the purple and orange Y5 made a distinctive and formidable bike, even 10 years after its release. It didn't matter that I was riding a bike that should belong in a collectors cabinet, the Y5 felt to me like a true workhorse. The original Fox Vanilla shock handled every bump, jump and drop beautifully, and the extra standover height the Y frame gives saved me from some potentially painful situations when learning how to jump. My Trek went everywhere with me and did all sorts of rides, from long cross-country slogs to dirt jumping and street riding.

I pushed my Y5 pretty hard. This was just the start of my rapid learning curve. Photo by Pekka Rummukainen

 As I gravitated towards downhill riding, I started to unknowingly push the limits of the Y5. It felt great to me on downhill tracks, but I didn't realise just how much stress I was bearing on its now 11 year old frame. Eventually, I entered my first downhill race on the 2008 Stromlo World Cup downhill course. On the first day of practice I was sessioning the first straight, which consisted of multiple drops and moguls. On landing one particularly large drop I heard a bang and the sound of my tyre rubbing on metal. I pulled over and inspected the bike to realise that I had snapped my chainstay in half. That moment shattered me - I didn't care about the race, I just cared about my beloved Y5. I knew it was my fault, that I had pushed it too far and this haunted me. But then I realised just how much fun that bike had gave me and how it had helped me fall in love with mountain biking. It had done its job and was passing the baton on to the next bike to continue my journey. The Y5 was simply saying, "here, I've done the hard first leg. You continue on, I need to finally rest". I've still got the Y5 sitting in the shed as a reminder of the fun I had on that bike and all the great memories we shared. It did its job for over 10 years without complaint and undoubtedly gave joy to all its previous owners. And most importantly, it turned one more scrappy youngster to the sport of mountain biking.

One last hurrah for my Y5. Take note of the soccer shin pads and snowboarding goggles. Photo by Pekka Rummukainen