The Face of Jesus in Matt’s Saddle Bag

Look!  I think I see the face of Jesus.  Like the shroud of Turin, inside his saddle bag, the spare tube and Allen wrenches were wrapped in a tie-dye-esque aged rust stained cloth.  I unraveled the wrenches and held out the cloth.  Behold!  That might fetch a few bucks on eBay.  They’ve been in the seat bag a long time, not quite B.C. old, but maybe before Bieber.  25 miles from home, I was helping Matt from Smitty’s Cyclery in Cincinnati replace a broken shift cable.  Yes.  He carries a spare.

Wrapping your tube and tools are just one of the lessons I learned from Big Matt’s saddle bag.  A former racer on the track and on the road, I’m sure Matt’s no stranger to weight weenie tendencies.  Matt proved you can pack a lot and still pack light.  The bag was packed with the expertise of an Everest climber, the necessities of survival in a few cubic inches.  I’ve had a day to think about it, and there’s not a mechanical incident that would’ve had Matt calling for a ride home.  Inside Matt’s saddle bag: tube, mini-tool with chain breaker, select 4-5-6 Allen wrenches, patch kit, brake and shifter cable, a five spot, a zip tie, and a chain pin.  I wouldn’t doubt there were a spare cleat and/or bottle cage bolt in there somewhere.  He kept the mini pump in his jersey pocket.

The black thing is the free hub body.

Matt explained the zip tie was in case your free hub body dies.  The free hub body is the thing your cassette rides on.  Its ratcheting pawls allow you to coast and engage the gears.  When it dies, and they do occasionally, you’re left…coasting home.  To fix on the fly, you can zip-tie the cassette to the spokes and get yourself home in a fixed-gear sort of way.  A zip tie can also fix a broken bottle cage, keep a busted derailleur out of your spokes or can be traded to the locals for corn and beads.

Wrapping your spare tube and tools in cloth accomplishes two, three, maybe four things.  For one, it prevents you from being the annoying Mr. Jangly Bag on group rides.  Two, it keeps sharp edge tools from serrating your spare tube.  Three, I would hedge a bet that it keeps spare tubes from drying out and/or prevents the valve-tube junction from becoming oxidized.  Lastly, it never hurts to have a rag for sweaty hands or keeping gooey chain greased hands from messing up white bar tape.

The black thing is a zip tie.

While Matt worked to get the broken cable end out of his shifter, I reached over his bike and undid the fixing bolt on his Dura Ace rear derailleur.  Matt’s got many miles in his legs, no stranger to being 2 hours from home with a mechanical.  He’s a mechanic at Smitty’s Cyclery in Cincinnati.  Yet even he packs a spare derailleur cable and a spare brake cable in his seat bag.  I scratched my head.  His Land Shark bike was impeccably clean and well maintained.  Having worked at a shop myself, I take pride wrenching on my own bikes and used to have a relative comfort in thinking that my cables are new and all bolts are properly fixed.  I don’t need to bring a multi-tool or anything beyond a tube, cartridge, mini-pump and five-dollar bill.  There on a flat road, 2 hours from home, Matt snapped a cable, fixed it with a spare in the span of 5 minutes and left me questioning my minimalist logic.

CX Bike Fit: Don’t Make Me Get All Norm Abram on You

My New Leaf Spring

A cross bike saddle is like a bean bag chair without the X-box.  No.  It’s more like a crossbow with the rails as the bow and the sit surface as the string.  Hmm.  Not quite.  A CX bike saddle is identical to a leaf spring on a 1978 Toyota Land Cruiser in Nairobi.  Yeah, and your remounting tookus is the rusty two ton truck pounding on it through a Serengeti Safari.  Think about that mid-race and all the pain will go away for at least a lap.

I skipped the first cross races, not intentionally.  I was on vacation in Park City, Utah.  While I was looking at the Uinta Mountains beyond Round Valley between my toes from our Canyon condo’s hot tub recovering from a 5 hour epic on the Mid Mountain Trail, I picked up my waterproof pen and paper and scribbled a short list of things I needed to do to my CX bike before the OVCX racing series kicks off this weekend in Kentucky.  Okay, so the Sharpie and paper weren’t so waterproof.  I might’ve missed something.

The Old White Saddle In Question

Oh yeah.  Mitch, my teammate and owner of BioWheels Bike Shop pointed out that my saddle looked too low at the cyclocross time trial the other day.  Like any crosser confronted by someone questioning my bike fit, I told him to f-off.  I’ve been doing this for 10 years.  A CX fit savant, I keep a tape measure and level in my middle jersey pocket every September.  The height from pedal centerline to the top of my saddle was perfect because I measured it 32 times…definitely 32 times.  Don’t make me break out the aged cryptic postie note with my measurements on it and get all Norm Abram on your ass.  For those that eschew PBS, Norm Abram is host of The New Yankee Workshop and can build an exquisite armoire quicker than you can make oatmeal.

Still Mitch is no dufus.  The fit question niggled at me.  How could my saddle be set up perfect yet appear too low?  Great googlie mooglie!  I got it!  Even though identical to the saddles on my road and mountain bikes, the white Fizik Aliante on my CX bike was purchased used about 4 years ago.  I suspected it had lost its loft.  Sure enough, if you look closely at the pictures, the old white saddle appears to have a little more curve through the top when compared to the new blue one.  While still measuring 92.7 cm from my pedal axle, the top of the saddle would sink down an extra centimeter when I sat on it.  Ah ha!  I emailed Mitch and took back every curse word.

Two Screws Were 3mm from Piercing My Taint

For the ultimate proof, you can see how the saddle has lost its leaf-spring capability by looking at the underside.  Those two holes were caused by the saddle coming in contact with the ends of the seatpost bolts.  Not the way you want to get a prostate exam.  The moral of the story is three fold: never buy a used saddle, measure your fit 32 times...definitely, and no matter how much it hurts your ego, always trust the advice of the bike-fit pro at your local shop.

Fi'zi:k Cu'Kee:saver Women's Saddle from RealCyclist.com

I'm banging my fists against the computer keyboard.  adea;o refioan; fewiau.  Why do I even bother musing about cycling when I could just copy it from the funniest cycling websites where they pay people to write, like RealCyclist.com.  After reading the following ad from RealCyclist.com for the Fi'zi:k Vesta women's saddle I'm certain of a few things.  1) The website is clearly not for real cyclists.  2) This copy was not Fi'zi:k approved.  3) If the associate at your local bike shop tried to sell you a saddle this way, you would slap him in the face.  4) I'm clearly not qualified to write for cycling publications.  5) This ad was clearly not written by a real cyclist, a guy who really wants to sell a $130 saddle to a woman, an actual woman, someone disguised as a woman, Wendy Williams, or even guy with a doll that he calls his girlfriend for that matter.  It is very possible it was written by someone with callouses on his right hand.

Fi'zi:k Vesta K:IUM Saddle - Women's

Perch your booty on the Fi’zi:k Women’s Vesta Saddle, and pedal with comfort. The women’s-specific shape gives you support where you need it and, thanks to the pressure-relieving beaver-breather central channel, none where you don’t. Scuff guards keep the Microtex cover unmarked if you lay your bike down, while Fi’zi:k’s Integrated Clip System lets you seamlessly install an I.C.S.-compatible saddle bag or light. With the Fi’zi:k Vesta, you’ll be filling your lungs with fresh air instead of filling your shorts with saddle sores.

Now, let's dissect this beauty.  Do you know what pops up on Yahoo image search results when you type in the word booty?  DO YOU?  For shame.  And shame on me too, because I dared to check.  First of all, the moment you finish typing the "y" of the word booty, your computer goes into blue screen lockdown mode and sends emails and texts to the authorities, your wife and your mom to inform them that you may be looking at porn.  Seriously, it triggers your computers "safe search" filter advising you of the forthcoming watermelon sized naked cabooses that's about to be displayed on your 17 inch screen.  The next thing that pops up, after agreeing to turn "safe search" off is hundreds of pictures of the biggest asses you've ever seen in your life outside of the Biggest Loser Ranch.  Granted, some are in bicycle shorts...barely.  The next thing that happens is spyware, unless you turn the "safe search" back on.  Clearly BOOTY is not the correct term to describe a women's um, backside and clearly not how a woman who would spend $130 on a saddle would refer to her...um...cute little tushy. 

You had me at booty.  Really I would've bought the saddle right then and there.  But, this saddle has a Beaver Breather.  Thank goodness because mine almost suffocated.  Were there less offensive words that RealCyclist.com decided not to use, like uhm...maybe cookie saver?  I wouldn't even dare to type "beaver breather" into a search engine...at least not at work.  I'm guessing I wouldn't see comical fuzzy little creatures wearing SCUBA gear while building a dam on a picturesque creek.

The sad thing is, if you go to Fi'zi:k's website the copy for the Vesta saddle reads quite professionally and un-offensive like this:

Vesta. A pressure relief channel praised by pros and enthusiasts alike.

But I guess RealCyclist.com thought that trying to work the words "saddle sores" and "laying your bike down" into the copy was more effective in luring women to purchase this high-end, pretty, white, well designed, ultra light, matches any bike, relatively inexpensive, pro-level saddle.


note: no beavers were harmed in this story.

Facebook Friday: What's THAT In Your Jersey Pocket?

It’s Facebook Friday on The Best Bike Blog Ever*. Every Thursday Facebook friends answer a burning cycling related question and every Friday the answers are posted here. If you’d like to join the fun, send a friend request with a note about “Facebook Friday” via the facebook link on the right side-bar. Today’s question is:

It's not a tool, money, ID or key...What is the oddball thing that you must carry on your ride?

ERIC:

My sarcastic wit

MARTY:

I rode Mohican with my recently deceased cat’s picture mounted to my handlebar! Moe-hican I called it...

BRIDGET:

Wet naps.

SHANNON:

Don't know about oddball, but I carry a very tattered photo of me and my daughter from when she was about three months old. It's a talisman.

KATE:

Chapstick and Tums.

SUSAN:

An old short pencil wrapped with 3-4 feet of duck tape. Ya never know. Usually I use a piece of it at least twice for something on a ride every year. In 98 we used it in W. Virginny to stabilize my friend's dislocated shoulder and ride (slowly) back to the car.

RYAN:

A pen and a little note pad so I can write down license plate numbers on the fly, Would carry a 9mm, but then I'd be in jail.

JAMES:

A Holga camera — it's lightweight and makes everything you shoot look 30 years old.

Brokeback Saddle: Fizik Arione Meets Booty

Dear Joe Biker,

Your ass is colossal. 

Love,

Fizik Arione

Is it a sign that I actually “got some back?”  That’s a photo of the underside of my Fizik Arione wing flex Ti railed saddle.  It’s cracked, humorously perpendicular to where my crack would be.  I didn’t crash, nor did Jackie Chan karate chop it.  Even though I haven’t been a fan of the Arione, I did not beat it with a baseball bat so I could rationalize another new bike part to my wife.  I was “just riding along” and broke it with my own enormous arse.

However, if there were a warranty left on this 3 to 4 year old saddle, I’m pretty sure it would not cover slamming my massive booty into it while bunny-hopping a double set of railroad tracks at probably 30mph.  It was a nasty set of tracks at the bottom of the hill somewhere northeast of Cincinnati, out in the rollers between Loveland and I’m guessing Goshen.  You know the type of tracks, ones where the asphalt is all topsy-turvy, the wood is rotten between the tracks and the uneven surface jiggles your arms like a handshake with a WWE wrassler no matter which line you pick to ride across.  So, I opted for flying.  I figure, the name Arione must have something to do with being airborne.  In fact, Fizik does brand the saddle as having “wing flex” technology.  For the record, I cleared ‘em…on a carbon Jamis Xenith road bike.  Upon reflection, I’m glad I left the beefy winter Thompson seat post in, or I might still be picking shards of carbon out of my taint and hamstrings.

I kind of heard a whump when my immense caboose made contact, but the saddle held up.  Remarkably, I got three more rides in before the crack I inflicted finally worked its way completely through the shell.  Note to self: “wing flex” and “Arione” have nothing to do with flying.  Road bikes are meant to stay in contact with the road.  While I thought about keeping it as a trophy of my particularly spectacular bunny-hop, I tossed it ceremoniously in the shop trash bin.  I replaced it with a swanky new orange Fizik Aliante that’s all matchy-matchy.  Butt bling.

Blogger note: this is the 100th post of The Best Bike Blog Ever*.  Thanks for reading.

What’s This Schwinn Stingray Worth?

“So....what's this re-built bike worth?”

Well that’s nearly an offensive question. What’s a still-in-the-box 1975 Deluxe Curl Barbie or a perfect condition KISS Alive album worth? That’s not a bike. That’s not even a Schwinn Stingray. That’s a childhood gem.

To a 2nd grader who could draw all the KISS faces with extreme precision, my lime green sparkly banana saddled Stingray was my best friend as Barbie was to the girl next door. It had a ball-busting stick shifter on the top tube. I can vividly remember riding through the cracked concrete alley behind our house down to the dry cleaning store solely because they always had free popcorn on the counter. Good times.

As you are where you work, I’m the office bike geek. We also have horse riding geeks and Ford Crown Victoria Police car geeks. Everyone has a passion for something. So of course, when a coworker was offered this bike as a raffle item for her charity auction, she posed the question to me. With a few clicks on EBay and a Schwinn Restoration forum, I did my best to answer her.

A year ago or so, I came across a Schwinn Continental II that I’m still working on refurbishing. In the process, I learned about the Schwinn Restoration forum which has a ton of great links for determining the year your Schwinn was built based on its serial number, what it might be worth and what it could look like if fully restored or turned into a work of art.

I didn’t have the serial number, but judging from the red/brown color and based upon some old catalogs I’ve seen, I’d hedge a guess that this Schwinn Stingray is from the mid 70’s. Judging from photos of similar looking bikes, I’m also guessing that this bike is missing its chrome fenders. It also seems like there’s something special about ’62 and ’63 Schwinn Stingray’s. The lime green color and the one with the big “S” on the banana seat seem to sell for more too. Two similar bikes to the one pictured above caught my eye on EBay, both with bids between $150 and $200. Some chopper style Stingrays on EBay go for over $500. I’m sure there’s tricked out Stingrays that sell for much higher.

Judging from that brief research, I’d say this well restored fenderless plain Jane Schwinn Stingray is probably in the $150-$200 neighborhood. Ultimately, it’s what the market will bear. I’d certainly write a $175 check for it. $300? I don’t think so, not unless its lime green with a stick shift and comes with a bag of popcorn.