Submitted by Martin Fernandez
I started getting back into cycling in mid-1991 after a car crash left me stranded without a vehicle. It was either walk to work or find another way to get there — public transportation wasn’t an option. So I went to my local bike shop.
They pointed me toward a mountain bike. “You can ride it anywhere,” they said.
I forked over about $400 and walked out with a yellow Trek 830 Antelope.
That rigid - no shox - steel bike set me free — and quietly set the tone for the next three decades of my cycling life. After the Antelope came another Trek, and not long after that, a FAT Chance Yo Eddy with a big 1” rigid fork. All steel. All rigid.
Eventually, I upgraded to a custom Anvil steel frame built exclusively for me by master toolmaker and frame builder Don Ferris. I met Don in the mid-to-late ’90s after responding to a post he made on a cycling forum. The deal was simple: “You build me a website, I’ll build you a frame.”
That introduction turned into a decades-long friendship. I handled Don’s web work, and he took care of me when it came to bikes. Through him, I was also fortunate enough to work with other frame builders along the way.
In 2009, I visited Don’s shop in Littleton, Colorado, and we headed out to Fruita for a few days of riding. I rented a Knolly Endorphin from Over the Edge Sports, while Don rode a rigid prototype 29er he had built for himself (below). At the time, 29ers were still emerging from niche status, and Don was developing new tooling to help boutique builders keep up.
His bike was raw and beautiful — an unpainted, double-butted steel frame with natural rust accents and a simple, functional steel fork. He rode it like it was an extension of his body, floating effortlessly across the Fruita landscape. I envied that simplicity. He knew it too, and promised that someday he’d build me my own rigid steel 29er.
That never came to pass before Don retired and disappeared off the grid. But he did the next best thing: he introduced me to Max Kullaway.
My relationship with Max began much the same way. I built his first website; he built me a beautiful gravel frame with a matching carbon fork. Not long after, I commissioned him to build a custom 27.5 steel frame to replace my Anvil.
Still, years after that Fruita trip with Don, I couldn’t shake the desire to recreate the bike he rode that day. In 2019, I started working with Max to finally bring that vision to life.
In April of 2021, the dream became reality. Max delivered a stunning steel green machine with a matching rigid fork (below). Unlike Don’s dedicated 29er, this bike was versatile — able to run either 29” or 27+ tires, my preferred setup. I named her Nancy.
On local trails, I give her the short legs. For longer rides, the long legs go on. Either way, she rides like a dream.
Despite owning several other bikes — including a hardtail with suspension and two full-suspension mountain bikes — Nancy remains my favorite. That bike means more to me than any other I’ve owned. It brought my cycling journey full circle, and it represents one of Max’s final achievements.
Nancy almost didn’t happen. Shortly after I commissioned the frame and fork, Max’s health declined rapidly. His time in the shop understandably became limited. Still, he finished the build. One of his final messages to me said he cherished the time he spent on it — building frames was his passion, and mine was one of the last he completed.
In hindsight, I sometimes feel guilty for checking in so often during that period. But I’m grateful he kept his promise. Today, I get to ride that bike — and carry his memory with me every time I do.
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