No More Tears: Clear Glasses for Winter

One of my biggest problems cycling in the winter used to be my eyes tearing up. It would get so bad, that the constant flow of tears would blur my vision, making it hard to see where I was going. But like many cyclists, I soon found the solution: clear glasses or goggles.

On moderately cold and windy days, I wear simple resin glasses that I am very happy with. They are unbranded, so I don't have an online source to refer you to, but many bike shops around here sell them at the counter. I bought mine from the Wheelworks, for around $20. What I like about these particular glasses is how comfortable they are, even on long rides. They sit sturdy, but are lightweight and don't press into my face or temples. The lenses are durable and the clarity is good.  

On particularly freezing days with harsh winds, I wear these wrap-around safety glasses from MSA. They cost only $4 and perform double duty as shop safety glasses for framebuilding. The MSA glasses are wonderful for creating a seal from the cold, keeping my eyes warm and dry and the sensitive skin around them protected. An additional benefit for those who wear prescription glasses, is that these can be worn over them. The downside is that they are on the heavy side, and if I wear them for too long they give me a headache - so watch out, if you have issues with that. But for short rides they are excellent, and on days that are cold enough to necessitate them my rides are on the short side anyway.

If you prefer the high-end route, I've tried and really liked the clear version of the new Lazer Argon glasses. These are in the $80-90 range and come with interchangeable lenses, which can be replaced with tinted ones. Oakley, Rudy Project, and most other athletic sunglass manufacturers also make clear or photochromic versions of many models.  

While some cyclists like to wear goggles, I am not a fan: They snag my hair and don't seem to stay put as well as regular glasses if I wear them on the bike. I find that the MSA safety glasses provide the same coverage but with less fuss.

There are many inexpensive options out there for clear goggles and glasses, so try a few and see what works. And if you need more coverage? Well, a few days ago I saw a man cycling with a clear face shield. Perhaps a new fashion trend in winter cycling. 

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Achingly Upright

Longer commutes over the past few months have given me the opportunity to ride a variety of upright bikes over varying distances. And while achieving a particular fit is less important to me on upright bikes than it is on roadbikes, I still have preferences. For instance, my ideal handlebar height is on the low side. I began to notice that fairly early on, lowering the bars on my city bikes further with each passing year. I'd assumed this growing preference had to do with performance: That maybe as I picked up handling skills and began to ride faster, lower handlebars just made more sense. And in part that's probably true. But lately I've realised that it's also a matter of physical comfort.

Riding several bikes with the bars set higher than I prefer, I notice that my back starts to hurt after some miles. It's a distinct kind of dull, gnawing pain, somewhere around the shoulder blade area. On bikes where the bars are set lower, I don't experience the pain. And having moved the handlebars on one of the "painful" bikes down an inch, the pain disappeared. I've tried this a few times now over the past couple of months with the same result: When the bars are too high, my back aches.

The downside to having a city bike set up the way I like, is that other women who try it usually tell me the handlebars feel too low. In the end, it's about finding our personal optimal position. And too upright can be just as achy as too leaned forward.

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SPD Pedals and Platform Support

When it comes to SPD-style clipless pedals, there is some discussion about the benefits of models with integrated platforms versus without. For example, here is an email I received from a reader last week:

...I see in your photos that you use both the Crank Brothers Eggbeaters and Candy pedals. Which do you recommend for a beginner? My boyfriend likes Shimano A-520 pedals because of the extra platform support. His thought is that the Candys provide the same level of support, but not the Eggbeaters. Do you agree?

To answer this question, let me backtrack a bit. The Eggbeater and Candy pedals from Crank Brothers are identical, except that the Candys (right) have a flat platform built around the bindings and the Eggbeaters (left) do not. When choosing pedals, I heard several arguments in favour of the Candys, including that the platform offers extra foot support, that as a beginner I would have an easier time clipping into a larger pedal, and that the platforms would allow me to ride in regular shoes.

I have now ridden with Candys on my own roadbike for the past 9 months. Over that time I have also borrowed friends' bikes with Eggbeaters (including a 100K ride). In the very beginning, the Candys were indeed easier for me to clip into. However, this advantage was short-lived and just weeks later I already had no problem using Eggbeaters and could not distinguish between them. I can also confirm that the Candys are much easier to ride in street shoes, on the rare occasions I find myself doing this on a roadbike. But as far as foot support, I feel absolutely no difference between the two models. I thought that I would, but I don't.

The Eggbeaters have their own advantages. The lack of platforms makes them considerably lighter. They offer more points of entry. And they are easier to clean. Overall, I think that I prefer them, although really I am fine with either.

While not the same as the Crankbrothers system, you could draw parallels to this comparison with Shimano SPDs. There are pedals that consist of bindings alone, and those that incorporate a platform. Some claim the platform provides additional foot support and allows for more power to be transferred, making it similar to a road pedal. Others argue that this is not the case, as the platform sits too far below the binding to provide significant support. I have no comment on the mechanics of this at large, but can only say that with my style of riding, and my specific pedal and shoe combination, I cannot feel the difference. As a beginner, I would suggest trying lots of pedals and figuring out what feels better to you.

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It's Not About the Weather

While we wait for Hurricane Sandy to arrive, I am still finding sand caked on my bike from an earlier rainy, muddy ride. It seems that every time I have ridden this bike so far, it has rained. Of course today, on my inaugural ride with fenders, it is sunny and dry. A friend consoles me by reminding me of the approaching hurricane. Surely I will have the opportunity to test the fenders then. I take the idea seriously and begin to mentally map out a route on some local trails, before realising how utterly insane that is. When the townsfolk are stocking up on canned goods and flashlight batteries, I should probably stay indoors.

With the season marching on toward starker days, I find myself thinking of weather. As cyclists we all tend to have an idea of the "perfect weather" for riding. For some it's the height of summer. For others it's that elusive "60 degrees and sunny, with a mild breeze." A few riders I know prefer cooler temperatures, and some even claim to enjoy rain. I think for me, the biggest revelation has been that, when push comes to shove, I can feel good in almost any weather. 

After a recent post describing a rainy ride on dirt roads, a reader wrote: "It's in our nature to want to be comfortable and coddled, but you celebrate the joy of pushing yourself through rain and mud." I felt guilty reading this, because honestly I don't feel as if I am overcoming discomfort or pushing myself when I ride in those kinds of conditions. And I think that is the key to my being able to do it. The secret is to find a way of being comfortable, to just go with it and appreciate the situation for what it is, rather than spending energy on trying to overcome it. Maybe this is just a different way of looking at the same thing, but to me it makes a big difference. Rather than pushing through discomfort, I extract comfort. 

Part of it is of course practical considerations. Figuring out how to dress, eat and drink in different conditions. Over the summer I stumbled upon some tricks that enabled me to ride in heat in humidity like I'd never managed to do before. And last winter, I discovered that riding in sub-20 degree temperatures was also very doable with the help of strategic layering. But equally important is the attitude. We have to be curious, interested. We have to want the experience. 

What is my idea of perfect riding weather... Probably high 40s to low 50s, with heavily overcast skies. I feel most alive then; the raw energy in the air makes me want to ride faster, further. But in the end, it's not about the weather, but about finding comfort in whatever is thrown at me, about feeling coddled by the beauty of the surrounding landscape. 

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The Post-Flu Slow Bike Phase

So, I've been rendered nonoperational with the flu this week. Not the "meh I feel yucky" kind of nonoperational, but the "what day is this?" kind. But while I am missing a lot of work and good riding, I'm not complaining. First, because it's only the flu and does not look like pneumonia (historically I've been partial to the latter). And second, because over the past two years this sort of thing has gone from what used to be a regular occurrence for as long as I can remember, to becoming rare. So I am happy to pay the price with this one bout of flu for what has otherwise been a pneumonia-free, flu-free, cold-free year, thanks very much and knock on wood.

Still, as I count the days until I can breathe freely and stand up without feeling dizzy again, I look at my roadbike with a touch of dread. I know it will not be the same again the next time I ride it. "The bike" will feel slower. And I will feel frustrated, set back, discouraged. This makes the post-flu phase a tricky, delicate time, because it can lead to riding less, which will only make things worse.

When it comes to riding with others at times like these, I never know what to do. Almost everyone I normally ride with is a stronger cyclist than me, and even in my best shape I already feel guilty for holding them back. So after being off the bike, my instinct is to ride on my own for a bit until I get back to the state where I am worthy of these superstar riding partners. The trouble with that approach is that I don't push myself as hard when I ride alone. If I join the others right away, I may feel embarrassed and overwhelmed for the first couple of rides, but I'll get back into shape faster.

Getting back into riding for transportation is easier, and makes me appreciate just how little effort cycling can take. I simply switch into a low gear, pedal softly, coast as much as possible, and eventually I'll get there - with less effort than walking. Of course the bike is still slower than it was before I got sick. But that's how it goes. It should be back to its old speedy self in a week or two!

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Chamois Creams: a Comparative Review

One of the first cycling-specific products I began to use when I started riding for longer distances, was chamois cream. Pronounced "shammy cream," this type of product is applied either directly to the crotch or to the inside of bicycle shorts (or underwear), in order to reduce chafing. The creams also have soothing, wound-healing and antibacterial properties that feel nice and help prevent infections. I have extremely rash-prone skin and I am prone to UTIs, but using chamois cream has virtually eliminated these problems. I go through the stuff fairly quickly, using up a tube every 1-2 months when I ride regularly. I have tried a handful of different brands. When I run out, I usually buy whatever the local bike shops sell, which can vary. A couple of the creams I've gotten based on friends' recommendations. Here is what I think of the ones I've used over the past 3 years:

I will start with Chamois Butt'r, which was the first cream I tried. It is available in two versions: regular and "eurostyle" - the former being non-tingly and the latter tingly. I bought the regular version first, and it did not work for me all that well; I found it somewhat bland and not entirely effective in preventing chafing unless I used a huge amount. It also did not stay effective for very long - maybe an hour tops. So next I tried the eurostyle and liked it a lot better; it did a better job preventing chafing than the regular version and lasted longer. It is worth noting that some people can't stand the tingly/cooling types of chamois creams and find that they burn or itch, so be careful. However, I do not have this problem and prefer the cooling creams. 

The consistency of Chamois Butt'r is medium-thick. Ingredients of the eurostyle version include witch hazel, aloe and menthol. But the dominating scent is oddly medicinal rather than herbal. While not my favourite cream, the eurostyle Butt'r does the job. I also like that it comes in smaller tubes, making it easy to keep in a jersey pocket in case you need to reapply in the course of the day. 

I tried DZ Nuts because it was the only cream a nearby bike shop carried when I ran out and needed more. I remember distinctly how reluctant I was to get it, because the packaging put me off (the image just says "crotch on fire" to me). But once I tried it, it became my preferred product. DZ Nuts has a cooling feel similar to the eurostyle Chamois Butt'r, except it works better for me and the effects last longer. The soothing and healing properties are excellent, and I have even used it to soothe sunburn and rashes outside the saddle area. There is now a woman's version of this cream (Bliss) and I tried a sample at some point, but did not care for it. They basically eliminated the cooling effect for the women's cream.

The consistency of DZ Nuts is on the thin side, similar to body lotion. Ingredients include tea tree oil, sandalwood, barley extract and menthol - which the scent reflects. The scent is pretty strong and that might put some people off, but it does not really bother me. I like that this cream comes in a tube, though I wish a smaller size was available.

While Vaseline/ petroleum jelly is not marketed as a chamois cream, it can work in that capacity. I learned about this on Rivendell's website (here is the article) and decided to try it, since it's so much less expensive than actual chamois cream and readily available in any drug store. Vaseline both lubricates and heals. There is no tingling to bother those who are sensitive to it, there are no ingredients than can irritate, and the smell is more or less neutral. When traveling long distance, a cyclist can stop at any pharmacy and get some.

However, the problem I found with Vaseline is that it can seep through bicycle shorts (especially if they are unpadded) and discolour or otherwise damage leather saddles. It can also discolour the shorts themselves, leaving grease-like stains that resist removal. I stopped using Vaseline fairly quickly for these reasons despite its effectiveness and low cost. But I would still use it in an emergency, and I often use it post-rides. 

Mad Alchemy is a local-to-me company. Their chamois cream is all-natural, paraben-free, and US-made in small batches. So far I have tried the Pro+ and the LaFemme versions of the cream. They both feel markedly different than the mass-produced creams, especially the texture and smell - both are somewhere in between the filling of lemon pie and old-fashioned cold cream. It looks whipped, semi-transparent and almost luminous. As far as chafing prevention, I find the Pro+ version more effective than the LaFemme. The Pro+ has a mild tingly effect and combines some of the properties I like in DZ Nuts and eurostyle Chamois Butt'r, but suspended in a different type of base.

The consistency of the Mad Alchemy Pro+ is medium-heavy. Ingredients include grape seed, tea tree, sweet orange and lavender oil. The scent reflects this, but is very mild. While I like everything about the Mad Alchemy cream in itself, I find the packaging inconvenient as I can't carry it in a jersey pocket and reapply when necessary. I wish they made a version in a tube. 

I bought the Sportique Century Riding Cream on the recommendation of a friend, who rides long distance and is crazy about it. I was complaining that no saddle seems to feel comfortable to me after 60 miles or so, and she recommended liberally applying this cream as a solution. I did, and I wish it worked. The cream is described as anti-microbal and anti-fungal. But honestly, it just feels like thick moisturising lotion. Sure, it prevents friction if I absolutely pack my shorts with it, but the effect fades fairly quickly and I do not experience the healing and soothing properties as I do with the creams I prefer. 

The consistency of the Sportique is medium-heavy. Ingredients include shea butter, wheat protein, sweet almond oil and beeswax. The scent is heavy on the shea butter and quite strong, almost candy-like. While this cream might work wonders for some, it is not for me. 

I tried the Rapha chamois cream over this past winter. I forgot to apply my own cream before a long ride, and a local shop had it in stock as a new release. Like many Rapha products, this cream has a whole romantic narrative attached to it ("...inspired by the flora around Mont Ventoux") and comes in some pretty fetishistic packaging including a slender tin jar with raised lettering. But this aside, the product works very well for me: It cools, soothes, prevents chafing and its effectiveness lasts a surprisingly long time (possibly the longest of the chamois creams I've used).

Consistency is medium-thin, similar to DZ Nuts. In the jar it resembles the original Noxema face cream I used as a teenager. Ingredients include glycerine, shea butter, menthyl and rosemary extract. However, it smells rather aggressively of pine - which I can't stand in any context other than on actual pine trees. So while I like the cream quite a lot, my dislike of the smell prevents me from purchasing it again. That, and the pretty jar is awkward to carry in my jersey pocket.

Boudreux's Butt Paste is the product Pamela Blalock recommends, so of course I had to try it. I ordered myself a sample and am not sure what to make of it. Not an actual chamois cream but a diaper rash treatment, the consistency and smell are like nothing else I can reference. Ingredients include zinc oxide, boric acid and castor oil. The scent is medicinal and odd; I can't really place it. While mildly unpleasant, it is not overbearing. The colour is tan-brown. Consistency is half way between toothpaste and putty. 

True to its name, this stuff is definitely a paste and not a cream. It feels a little stiff to apply and does not spread quite as easily as actual chamois creams. The upside is that it stays put rather tenaciously. If your saddle discomfort is concentrated in a specific spot, this could be a particularly good product to use because it will actually stay in the area where you apply it. I have not yet decided whether I prefer Boudreux's over the other creams I like, but it is certainly an interesting one. And the fact that it comes in tubes of different sizes is very convenient. 

All things considered, the chamois cream I gravitate toward the most is probably DZ Nuts. It works for me, it can be purchased at several local bike shops, and it's available in a tube. But as with most other products, preferences differ. I like the "euro" style creams with the tingly/cooling sensation, while others cannot tolerate them. Despite being female, I consistently prefer the men's/unisex versions of creams and don't like the women's formulas. I find tubes more practical than jars. And I am relatively indifferent about a cream's consistency and texture, while others have very specific preferences in this regard. Chamois creams differ in their properties and it may take you a couple of tries to find one you like. While some popular names are absent from this review, these are the products I've used so far and I hope my descriptions are helpful. 

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Cycling and Hairstyles: Long vs Short

This morning I received an email from a reader asking whether I prefer long or short hair for cycling. Short answer: Long! 

Last summer I chopped my hair for the first time in nearly two decades. While I didn't do it for the sake of cycling, I did expect short hair to be easier to manage for someone who rides a lot compared to my previously unruly mane. Surely it would feel lighter, be less prone to getting disheveled and sweaty, be easier to comb. Lots of active women have short hair, so this logic made sense. 

But oh how wrong I was. You know how sometimes you have a bad hair day? I feel like I've had a bad hair year. While I like the look of my bob and it was nice to have a change, as far as cycling it's been annoying and fussy. Not long enough to fit into a pony tail, it is long enough to fly into my eyes when I ride unless I use lots of pins. This includes the times I am roadcycling and wearing a helmet - loose strands won't stay under the helmet, but fly in my face unless I remember to pin them down. Post-ride maintenance is harder as well. When my hair was long and it got disheveled or tangled after a ride, I could simply put it up in a "messy bun" and it would look decent enough. With short hair there is no way to hide the mess; looking presentable after a sweaty or windy ride is a challenge.

So while it may seem counter-intuitive, my experience as a cyclist has been that long hair is easier to deal with: With or without a helmet, I can just tie it back or braid it and forget about it. Now that mine fits into a pony tail again, I am ecstatic and feel like I need to write a note to myself with a reminder to never cut it again. I could see how a buzz-cut or pixie cut would be low-maintenance, but my chin-length bob has been anything but. 

What are your thoughts on hair maintenance and cycling? Have you changed or tweaked your hairstyle as a result of riding a bike?

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How Upright Is Upright?

There is a tendency to group all upright transportation bicycles into the same general townie/cruiser-ish category. And when we see the description "upright bike" we imagine whatever it is that fits our own definition of that idea. But differences in what are commonly referred to as "upright" positions can be considerable. Above are three classic examples side by side: a traditional Dutch bike, an Italian city bike, and a French-style mixte - all three of which I have owned and ridden.

To a large extent it is the placement of the handlebars that determines how upright a bicycle is set up. But while the Dutch bike's handlebars can be lowered and the bars on the other two can be raised, it's not entirely as simple as that: The design of the frame itself assumes a particular range of positions; the frame geometry is optimised for it.

The Dutch bike is designed to enable a bolt-uright posture. The handlebars are high. The stem is so short as to be practically non-existant, bringing the bars even closer to the rider's body. The seat tube angle is slack. Altogether, the cyclist is "pushed back" on the bike into what almost resembles an armchair position. The epitome of "upright," this posture is not for everyone. But it is supremely comfortable for short trips and it allows cyclist to observe their surroundings from a greater height.

The traditional French mixte is typically more aggressive than other city bikes. The frame design is frequently not very different from that of a road bike - steep angles, head tube not much higher, if at all, that the seat tube, comparatively lightweight tubing. When built up as upright bikes, these bicycles are at their best when set up with long stems and handlebars at or even below saddle level. With the cyclist's weight pushed forward, the bicycle is extremely responsive and maneuverable. But the "upright" posture with this set-up can be quite aggressively leaned over.

Somewhere in the middle, the Italian city bike is really a variation of the so-called "sports roadster" design (the ubiquitous Raleigh Sports and Lady's Sports were examples of these): swept-back handlebars at or moderately above saddle level, combined with a short stem for a generally upright but slightly leaned-forward position. The seat tube is not as slack as that on a Dutch bike, but still relatively relaxed. The cyclist can lean into the bike if they wish to apply more power, or they can sit back. I personally find this to be a very versatile position - though others might call it "neither/ nor" - neither as regally relaxed as a Dutch bike, nor as maneuverable as a roadish French mixte.

While definitions of "upright bike" run the gamut, my personal definition requires that the bicycle pass the Camera Test. That is, I must be able to ride the bike with my large camera staying put on my back, strap worn across my chest, without the camera rotating to the front. I can't do it on a roadbike with drop bars, not even when I am on the hoods or the tops. But I can do it on all three bikes shown in this post, which makes them all different variations of "upright" to me. What do you typically think of as an upright position, and which do you prefer for everyday cycling? 

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Cycling Fever?

I had this question when I first began doing strenuous rides and recently someone asked me the same thing: Is it normal to run a fever after cycling?

The short answer is: Yes. It happens to some people. Not to all, but to some. I am one of them, and I now know a few others who experience this with regularity - always have. The evening after a strenuous ride, I will often run a fever and might even develop a sore throat. While it's happening it can feel very much like the flu. But the next morning all symptoms will be gone, so it is not a case of actually getting sick.

My understanding is that this is a normal reaction that some people simply have to certain types of exertion. It may have to do with how our bodies engage in muscle repair. Or it may have to do with circulation issues. No one seems certain, but it does happen.

Regardless of how or why it happens, I have noticed there are things I can do to alleviate it. For instance: taking a hot shower or bath after a ride, taking an NSAID or acetaminophen concoction, eating warm "comfort food" such as soup or scrambled eggs, drinking lots of fluids, and trying to get as much physical rest as possible. Basically treating it like the flu works for me. It dulls the symptoms while they are happening, so that I can still be productive with the rest of my evening. And the next day I feel good as new - only the muscle soreness remains.

If you experience fever or flu-like symptoms after strenuous cycling, how do you deal with it?

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Upside Down North Roads

During the VCC Northern Ireland Ride last weekend I had the opportunity to ride several bicycles that were fitted with upside down North Road handlebars - classic swept-back bars mounted upside down in order to achieve a lower hand position. Personally, I love upside-down North Roads. Unlike many other handlebar set-ups designed to achieve an aggressive posture, I've always found them comfortable and intuitive. So it surprised me to learn from others on the ride that this set-up tends to be a "love it or hate it" sort of thing, with many falling firmly into the latter category. 

Apparently, those who do not like the bars report that they make a bike's handling twitchy - almost providing too much leverage for comfort. That intrigues me, because that same feeling of leverage is what makes me feel in control of the bike - able to manipulate it and "place it" as it were exactly as I want.

I also like the ergonomics: My wrists just seem to naturally plop down onto the gripping areas as they do on regularly mounted North Roads, but the low placement of my hands enables a much more aggressive position than on a typical upright bike. It's almost like riding with drop handlebars, except with access to standard brake levers in the drops.

Interestingly though, I noticed that all the upside-down North Roads on the VCC ride were set up with the gripping areas pointing down, whereas in the US I usually see them set up with the gripping areas more or less parallel to the ground. I cannot tell which I find more comfortable.

Setting a bicycle up with upside-down North Roads is the best method I know of achieving an aggressive yet ergonomic hand position without resorting to drop bars. I am curious what your thoughts on them are. 

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Seatpost Setback and Related Matters

A couple of days ago I replaced the seatpost on my Rivendell Sam Hillborne with one that has zero setback, and the change has been interesting. Before I go any further, I will warn you that this is a continuation of the long top tube post. So if that one gave you a headache, please stop reading now and save your sanity! Or, continue at your own risk.

For those new to the concept of setback, seatposts come with different amounts of it. One of the things the setback does is move the saddle clamp back, thus altering a bike's effective seat tube angle. Say your bicycle frame has a 74° seat tube, and you buy a seatpost with 2cm of setback. Unless you counteract the setback by moving the saddle forward along the rails, your bicycle's effective seat tube angle will be 2° slacker, making it more like 72°. And you can make it slacker still by pushing the saddle further backward. By contrast, a seatpost that goes straight up with no setback leaves your frame's natural seat tube angle unaltered. Seat tubes today tend to be steep, so it is rare that anybody wants to make them steeper still. But with a zero-setback seatpost, it is possible to make the effective angle a bit steeper by pushing the saddle forward on the rails.

The other factor influenced by a seatpost's setback is the reach from saddle to handlebars. The more setback a seatpost has, the further the saddle moves away from the handlebars. Here it is worth noting that bicycle fit experts typically warn against messing with seatpost setback and saddle positioning in order to alter reach. Instead it is advised that one's saddle position preference should be fixed in relation to the bottom bracket. At least that is my understanding.

Getting back to my bike, it has a 52cm seat tube and a 57.5cm top tube - the latter being unusually long given the former. Additionally, it has a 71.5° seat tube angle, which is atypically slack. In previous posts I explained that when I ride this bicycle, I feel as if my body is not sufficiently forward. The long top tube will not allow me to fit the bike with a stem longer than 7cm, and the slack seat tube puts me further back still.

Originally the bike was built up with a seatpost with generous setback, making the effective seat tube angle even slacker than its natural 71.5°. Eventually I replaced it with a seatpost that had only minimal setback, but even that did not feel as if I were sufficiently forward. I was reluctant to go with a zero-setback seatpost, because everyone I spoke to acted horrified by the idea. "Zero setback? What are you trying to do, turn it into a racing bike?" However, after the "long top tube" post I came to the conclusion that a zero setback seatpost is the most obvious solution. Far from making the bike "racy," it would simply continue the frame's already slack seat tube angle without slackening it further. Or, I could move the saddle a tiny bit forward and make the effective seat tube angle a rather normal 73° (as it is on my other two bicycles with drop bars). So, that is exactly what I did.

The welcome side-effect of the new saddle position is that the long top tube problem seems to be resolved. My reach has been reduced considerably and I can get a longer stem if I want. But even with the current stem I already feel myself positioned significantly more forward on the bike than before. The subjective sensation of this is greater than I would have predicted: I feel more in control over the steering, and I feel that the bicycle is distinctly faster to accelerate and to start from a stop. Although visually the saddle comes across as being too far forward now, its relationship to the bottom bracket is actually quite normal for a roadbike (off-the-shelf road frames in my size typically have 74-75° seat tube angles). I need to take the bicycle on a longer ride before I can say more, but I think this setup may be just the thing.

It's been exactly two years since I received the Sam Hillborne frame as a holiday gift, and this bicycle has given me over 2,000 happy miles. I've changed a lot as a cyclist over this time and the Sam's frame is quirkier than I initially realised. But I am going to try and make it work for me - hopefully learning a thing or two in the process.

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Long Top Tubes and Drop Bars

I was reading the Rivendell blog today, where Grant Petersen revealed a "mystery bike" that has been in the works for some time. It looks like this. And aside from the obvious oddities, it is endowed with an unusually long top tube for its size: a 62.5cm top tube on a 54.3cm frame. Apropos this geometry, Rivendell notes that the bicycle is "basically a flat-to-rolling land bike that, by virtue of it’s superlong top tube ...locks you into a sweeepyback bar." In other words, it would be difficult to set this bike up with drop bars due to the excessively long reach that would create. 

This got me thinking again about my own Rivendell bicycle: a Sam Hillborne that is a 52cm frame with a 57.5cm top tube. That is also an unusually long top tube, given the frame size. Aside from the standover, the 52cm frame fits like a much larger one - possibly too large for someone of my stature to set up as a roadbike. 

When I first got the bike, I could not ride with drop bars and so we did everything possible to ease me into it. The bike was built up with an extremely short stem (5cm) and the bars were set up considerably above saddle level. I rode it that way at first, gradually lowering the bars until finally they were level with the saddle. That felt fine for a while, and then came a time when I was ready for a longer stem (the 5cm was always meant to be temporary). The typical stem length for a roadbike is 9-11cm, but I soon understood that this range was out of the question given the long top tube - I would have to be lying down over the bike in order to reach the bars. So we replaced the 5cm stem with what we thought was an 8cm, but was actually a 7cm - and even that feels like a stretch. Now I find myself in bike fit purgatory: From the standpoint of how the bicycle handles, I feel as if I am not forward enough and would like a longer stem. But from the standpoint of reach, even the current stem is too long (and I have already shoved the saddle forward and replaced the seatpost with one that has as little setback as possible).  

According to Rivendell's sizing guidelines I belong on a 52cm frame, if not larger. However, it seems to me now that these guidelines are optimised for setting the bicycle up with upright handlebars (even though they do not explicitly say that). Otherwise I do not know how to interpret the sizing.  

Long top tubes are good for eliminating toe overlap. They are also ideal for fitting a bike with swept back handlebars, so that the bars don't hit your knees. But if you plan to set up a bicycle with drop bars at or below saddle level and use a standard length stem, a long top tube could be problematic - unless you have a long torso. If you own a Rivendell and have it set up as a roadbike, I would be interested in your take on this. 

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Discussing Our Bodies in Mixed Company

image via kaputniq

Yesterday I came across a series of delightfully entertaining illustrations by kaputniq, modeled after a Victorian instruction manual for lady cyclists. "Women Wheelers! Don't say 'Feel my muscle,'" warns one. "Don't ask 'Do you like my bloomers?'" admonishes another. While things have changed since Victorian times, in some ways maybe not so much. When I wrote a post on female saddle discomfort some time ago, I received comments and emails from male readers indicating that they were made uncomfortable by the topic. To a lesser extent, the same happened when I brought up the subject of bras in a recent post, and likewise whenever I mention my leg muscles or (heaven forbid) butt in the context of cycling.

During the time I have spent around those who ride bikes, I have observed that male cyclists are not shy about discussing their bodies - be it in real life (conversations that take place in bike shops and at various cyclist gatherings) or on the internet (discussions in forums and blog comments). Thanks to this, I know all about their "taint" and their infertility worries, and how they have to move stuff out of the way when dismounting a bike with a tall top tube, and so on. No big deal. It's a good thing that men feel free to share such things. 

However, female cyclists are unlikely to discuss their bodies in a similar manner, except in the vaguest of terms. Until very recently there was virtually no public internet dialogue about female-specific bicycle discomfort, and I rarely hear any such talk out loud. I don't think I'd be out of line in saying that it is still considered inappropriate in our society for women to be "immodest" - which is how discussing our bodies in mixed company is perceived. If a female mentions her toned legs, let alone her private parts, even in the context of cycling it can easily be interpreted as flirtatious or sexually provocative - whereas if a man does the same it is interpreted as merely clinical.

Despite the double standard, it is clear that female cyclists want to discuss these topics - and to do so using concrete terminology instead of polite abstractions. There is a growing feeling that information is unavailable to us because of our own embarrassment to share that information with each other, supplemented by a palpable male discomfort (or excitement - which is more intimidating?) when we do share it. While I am not the right candidate to spearhead a revolution in this regard, I am relieved to see that there is one underway. From the frank discussion of yeast infections on bikeskirt, to Elly Blue's article on menstruation in Grist, to an entire compilation of female writings about their bodies and cycling coming out in zine format (Our Bodies, Our bikes - order your copy here) it's as if a floodgate has opened, so to speak - mixed company be damned. Let's hope the trend continues. It should not be any less socially acceptable for female cyclists to discuss their bodies than it is for male cyclists.

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Selle AnAtomica: My Impressions

[Edited to add: This review is of the older generation Selle Anatomica Titanico; the review of the current model can be found here.]

Some time ago I bought a red Selle Anatomica Titanico saddle, initially to go with a vintage bicycle I had at the time. But when I was loaned a Seven roadbike earlier this summer, the Selle Anatomica migrated onto it instead: It promised to be more comfortable than the bike's native racing saddle and was a perfect match for its red decals. This is how I had the saddle set up on the bike, and I put about 700 miles on it.

Founded in 2007 by the now deceased avid cyclist Tom Milton, Selle Anatomica is a small American manufacturer of leather saddles. The company is now run by the founder's sister, Meredith Milton Evans. Notably different from the other leather saddles on the market, Selle Anatomica offers several potentially attractive selling points. One is the long "anatomic" cut-out, which they claim allows the two sides of the saddle to move independently, thus relieving pressure on soft tissue. The other is the "watershed leather," which refers to the saddle's treatment with a waterproof top layer. The saddles are available in a variety of colours, and there are separate versions rated for heavier and lighter riders. You can read more about the design and specs here.

I purchased my saddle in Spring 2011 and since then a couple of changes have been made that I find somewhat confusing but will try to summarise. Selle Anatomica now advertises being made with cro-moly rails, so I am not sure what the rails on my saddle are made of. They also changed the weight criteria, so that what were formerly called the "Clydesdale" saddles and recommended for persons weighting over 180 lb have now become their regular saddles and are recommended for persons over 140 lb. If I understand these changes correctly, then what is now called the "Titanico" model is a slightly different product from the saddle I own, and the version I own is more comparable to what is now called the "Titanico Legacy." However, based on my conversations with the manufacturer I am not entirely certain of this, and I hope that she might clarify in the comments.

My impressions of the Selle Anatomica underwent several stages. Initially, the saddle felt so comfortable that I could hardly believe it. The tension of the leather was just right, there was no pressure anywhere, and the cut-out slot worked as advertised. The leather was softer, more pliable and more "hammock-like" than other leather saddles I'd tried and I could feel it moving with me, as opposed to my body moving against it. There was no chafing or soreness what so ever, and there was no breaking in period. It was almost too good to be true.

Then, after about 100 miles, I began to feel a sharp pinching pain in my "soft tissue." The pain would come and go, seemingly at random, and felt as if someone took a pair of pliers to a fold of skin along my crotch. Eventually I realised that the slot somehow began to close in at its narrowest part, pinching my skin right through the padded bicycle shorts. Soon after that I also noticed that (after only 150 miles), the saddle had sagged dramatically. At the time we were unable to determine whether it was the actual leather that sagged, or whether the bolt controlling the tension had unscrewed. But in retrospect it seems to have been the latter, because once we increased the tension and screwed the bolt in tightly, it did not sag again nearly as much.

We assumed that tensioning the saddle would also solve the pinching problem, but the occasional pinching persisted. We tried bending the leather inward in the part of the slot where it pinched, but that did not help. After some investigation, it turned out that a few others reported this same problem with Selle Anatomica saddles, and the recommended solution was to use a knife to enlarge the slot in the spot where it pinched. Just as we were debating whether to do this, the pinching suddenly stopped on its own around mile 400. I kept waiting for it to return, knife at the ready, but it did not. With no explanation, the saddle suddenly felt as good again as on the day I got it. For the remaining 300 miles I rode on the saddle, there has been a gradual and slight loss of tension, but no further problems.

Having ridden with this saddle in the rain multiple times on a bike with no fenders, I can confirm Selle Anatomica's claim that the saddle is absolutely waterproof. The rain just rolled right off without getting absorbed into the leather. However, the "watershed" layer eventually began to wear off - not from the rain, but from my contact with the saddle. You can see this in this picture, which was taken after 400 miles. On the manufacturer's website, it is suggested that the top layer could wear off over time as part of everyday use, and that eventually the owner may need to send the saddle back for re-waterproofing (which is done for an extra fee, as far as I understand). It is not specifed for how many miles the "watershed" leather is designed to last before the top layer needs to be reapplied.

Overall, my impression of Selle Anatomica is a positive, but somewhat frustrated one. If the tension remains as it should and the slot does not pinch, it is the most comfortable saddle I have ridden on. If the watershed layer remains intact, it is the most maintenance-free leather saddle I have experienced. However, neither of these factors has been stable for me, and so I would describe the saddle as high maintenance and rather unpredictable. With its price on par with mid-range Brooks and less than Berthoud, personally I would buy Selle Anatomica again and would be willing to fuss with it just to achieve the level of comfort I know it is capable of giving me. But be aware that this is an unusual saddle, and that user experiences tend to be varied - even more so than with the other leather saddle manufacturers. I hope that Selle Anatomica remains in business and continues to streamline its product. With its unique design, it is a welcome alternative to the other saddles currently on the market.

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Adventures with Padded Cycling Shorts

"Should I wear padded bicycle shorts?" is one question I get asked a lot by women, especially since photos occasionally reveal my wearing them. As with most comfort issues, there is no straight answer here. Everybody is different, and the best I can do is provide feedback about my own experience.

When I cycle casually or for transportation I do not wear cycling shorts. It is crucial to me that my transportation bikes be comfortable and upright enough to ride in regular clothing, and I do not ride them strenuously. I also do not find that padded shorts are a solution for saddle discomfort. If a saddle causes me pain, the shorts can at best mask it for a brief time, but the saddle itself will still need to be addressed.

I began wearing bicycle shorts when I got into roadcycling. In that context, I find them beneficial, in that they provide just the right amount of compression and cushioning. It is difficult to explain why this is necessary, until you yourself get to the point where it makes sense. For a while I rode wearing non-cycling-specific leggings, but ultimately did not find them sufficient. The tight, stretchy fabric of bicycle shorts - unflattering as it may be - makes the muscles in my legs feel better when I pedal vigorously. The slight padding (and minimalism is key here) creates just enough of a buffer zone between me and the saddle during active rides.

I have owned several pairs of cycling shorts so far. The first one I bought was by Pearl Izumi. Everyone kept saying to me "But how do you know that you can't wear synthetics? These high-tech fabrics have come so far!" And so I tried. You won't see a picture of the Pearl Izumi shorts here, because they made my legs look like overstuffed sausages and it's just too traumatic for me to share that. But the bigger problem is that I really do have a sensitivity to polyester and wearing these things gave me a disgusting rash along the back of my legs. Also, despite Pearl Izumi's promises of being wicking and temperature regulating, they were nothing of the sort. Sweat pooled in every skin fold, and words can't describe what an unpleasant experience it was to wear this garment. I got rid of them a month later, struggled with my cotton leggings again for a bit, and then finally bit the bullet and bought a pair of wool Ibex cycling knickers.

I have been happily wearing the Ibex El Fito wool cycling knickers since last August, and have since also bought a pair of their Seree shorts. I think the version of the knickers I have is last year's model or older (I bought it from a discount retailer), because the currently produced version features a new pad design that is less noticeable from the back.  In both the new and the older design, the padding is minimalistic and feels comfortable. Overall, I am happy with the Ibex shorts and knickers, and I alternate between them depending on the weather and on which pair is clean.

Now let's be honest: no cycling shorts are flattering unless you are super-slender with sinewy thigh muscles. But all in all, these are not nearly as horrific as other cycling shorts I've tried and the "sausaging" effect is very slight. At least I am willing to post pictures. A wider and softer waistband would make them more comfortable around the middle, but that is my only real complaint. The wool does not feel especially thin to the touch, but I can wear these things in 95F heat and they feel wonderful. No skin sensitivity, no pooled sweat.

More recently, I got a pair of Harlot Scarlet X Tech knickers via a trade with the manufacturer. These knickers are stretchy nylon and spandex (to which I am not sensitive), and are meant mostly for mountain biking. I thought they could work nicely for touring because of all the pockets and the relaxed tailoring.

The elasticised waistband is soft and comfortable and the styling is that of casual capri pants. They are formfitting throughout the hips and upper thighs and loose around the knees.

The padding is not visible. There is a meshy panel that runs along the inseam, providing ventilation. Decorative white piping runs along the outside seam (more pictures here).

While the Harlot knickers are well-made, flattering, and do a good job disguising the padding, I have not been wearing them much after the initial "Oh, neat" reaction. I think the reason is that I have no need for this particular style of cycling shorts. If I am going to wear something padded, then I am going to be roadcycling and I want the shorts to be tighter, more stretchy, less constricting, and without any extras such as pockets. Likewise, if I am commuting or just cycling with a friend in the park, then I don't need cycling-specific attire at all. But if you can use cycling shorts that are made like regular capri pants, only with padding, knickers such as these and the ones by Chrome I wrote about earlier, could work nicely.

As I see it, padded cycling shorts and knickers are one of those "If you need them, you'll know it" things. If you are comfortable without them, I think that's just fine and there is no need to question yourself just because other cyclists are wearing them. And while cycling shorts can look silly, they are designed that way (tight, padded) for a reason, and changing that design in order to make them look like regular pants can also reduce their functionality. That's my take on it at least, for the time being.

Do you wear padded cycling shorts? What kind and for what type of cycling? I am especially curious about any experiences with Smartwool, Icebreaker, and other wool cycling shorts - particularly for women.

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Drinking and Cycling

Yesterday I did a 40 mile ride in 97 degree heat and high humidity. As someone who is sensitive to hot weather, normally I would not go outdoors on such a day at all. But when the temperature is like this on a daily basis, the choice is either to stop riding or find a way to deal with it. One experienced cyclist I know suggested drinking large amounts of water starting early in the morning, and then a dose of coconut water right before the ride itself. I did just that, and it helped: I  was able to do the ride without feeling faint or headachy. Earlier in the week I tried to do the same ride and turned back 15 minutes later, nursing a migraine for the remainder of the day. I don't know how much the hydration regimen had to do with the improvement, but it made me curious about the relationship between drinking and cycling. 

Take, for example, water: I've always been one of those weird people who doesn't like the taste of water and does not usually feel thirsty, so drinking so much of it was an entirely new concept when I began cycling. At first I had to practically force myself to do it, but at some point it started to become more natural and I developed the thirst mechanism I hitherto lacked. Those who've known me for a while are surprised that I now actually crave water, even when off the bike. 

On the other hand, juice and energy drinks make me feel sick when I cycle. They are too sweet and I only feel more thirsty afterward. Things like Gatorade and weird chemical energy powders I just can't take at all - it goes straight to my head and makes me feel dizzy, as well as leaves a disgusting taste in my mouth. So in order to regain electrolytes, I've been eating bananas and putting a tiny bit of salt in my water. Coconut water was suggested as an alternative, and I was surprised to read about its electrolyte content: It is basically a natural sportsdrink. I still find it slightly too sweet and the aftertaste a little weird, but manageable - and it seems to work.

Then there is the question of coffee. I am addicted and drink more cups per day than I care to count. I like to drink coffee before a ride, because it makes me feel more energetic. However, some warn against doing this - claiming that it's bad for the heart to have coffee right before exercise. Are cyclists who caffeinate dooming themselves to early heart attacks? Seems unlikely to me, but I do wonder sometimes as I drink my nth cup.

And finally, alcohol. I am not a big drinker by any means, but I like an occasional white wine or martini. Sadly, I've discovered that I can't drink if I plan to go on strenuous rides, not even a little bit. Maybe I am worse at processing alcohol than most people, but if I have a martini in the evening and then try to go cycling the next morning, I can smell the gin coming out of my pores and just don't feel 100% on the bike. That's after just one drink. I cannot imagine how some cyclists manage to guzzle beer during races, or stop for lunch with wine in the middle of long ride; I can't do it.

What's your practice with regard to water, energy drinks, coffee and alcohol when cycling?

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Everyone Wants Stability

In discussions of a bicycle's ride quality, one thing that always comes up is stability. We want a bike that is stable and we complain when it is not. Of course the problem with "stability" is that the concept is largely dependent on our skill level and cycling background. Those who are unaccustomed to riding roadbikes will often find them unstable at first, while those who ride roadbikes exclusively will often find upright bikes unstable. This does not mean that either is actually unstable, but rather that the two cyclists are used to radically different means of weight distribution. Similarly, what's "unstable" to one cyclist can be "responsive" to another. It seems that perception of stability has at least as much to do with the person riding the bicycle as it does with the bicycle itself. How useful is it, then, to tell a salesperson or a framebuilder that we want a bicycle that is stable? And how useful is that term in reviews? Clearly we need further qualification.

When I talk to new cyclists who are uncomfortable operating their bikes, instability is often cited as the problem: It can make a bicycle difficult or scary to ride, making the cyclist feel not entirely in control. In the process of teasing out what exactly is meant by this elusive concept, I've identified a number of distinct points that I would like to share, and see what others think: 

Starting from a stop

Some bicycles are described as shaky when starting from a stop, as if the front wheel is wobbly and wants to turn just as the cyclist is trying to get the bike rolling forward. This is a complaint I hear a lot from women about vintage mixtes that came with dropbars, but have been converted to upright bikes and also, interestingly, about classic Dutch bikes. The feeling is sometimes referred to as "light steering" or a "light front end," and has to do with a complicated combination of the bicycle's geometry and the height of the handlebars. With some bikes, I have found that lowering the handlebars helps - in particular when it comes to the mixte conversions - but ultimately it is a matter of getting used to it. Some cyclists do get used to it, but others can't and feel inherently uncomfortable with the bike. 

Cycling at slow speeds

Similar to the above, only extended to cycling at slow speeds: The bike wants to weave (i.e. feels "squirrely" or "twitchy") when the cyclist attempts to ride slowly, making it difficult to control. Aggressive roadbikes are known for this quality, but cyclists report the feeling about some upright bikes as well (albeit often they are upright bikes that are roadbike conversions). One thing I have found useful when riding bicycles like this at slow speeds, is to pedal in slow motion while feathering the brake, instead of coasting. I would be interested to know whether this works for others. 

Cycling at fast speeds, downhill

When riding at fast speeds, and particularly downhill, some cyclists are alarmed to notice that the font end of their bicycle will begin to vibrate in the region of the stem and handlebars. Assuming that nothing is loose on the bike or mechanically wrong with it, this is known as "shimmy" and there are ongoing debates regarding what causes it, whether it's a problem, and whether it is even a real phenomenon. This is something that a cyclist either gets used to, learns to avoid by abstaining from high speeds on that particular bike, or deals with by getting a different bike. 

Turning

When cyclists describe a bicycle as unstable on turns, they can mean a number of things by this. One type of complaint is that the bike turns too aggressively or, "too much," overreacting to the turn. Another type of complaint is the opposite: that the bike keeps trying to straighten itself while the cyclist is still continuing the turn. Either of these qualities can make turning stressful, with the cyclist struggling to make the bicycle follow the course they would like it to follow. How to deal with this, other than developing handling skills in line with the bicycle's tendencies (or getting a different bike) I cannot say.

Rough surfaces

To some cyclists it is important how stable a bicycle feels when going over rough or uneven surfaces. While wide tires play a role, at least to some extent this seems to be also about the bicycle itself - with some bikes seemingly "unfellable" off road or over potholes, while others relatively easy to wipe out on, especially for novices. In the realm of upright city bikes,  there is an increasing number of manufacturers (Pilen, Retrovelo, Urbana) infusing classic transportation bicycles with mountain bike characteristics in a way that works well in this context. Converting an old hardtail mountain bike to an upright bike can work as well. Upright roadbike conversions on the other hand, tend to be problematic in this respect - particularly for beginners. 

Tire width

Whether on smooth or rough surfaces, I have noticed that tire width can have a lot to do with a novice cyclist's perception of a bicycle's stability: Narrow tires are simply more difficult to balance on across a wide range of circumstances. If the bicycle's clearances allow for wider tires, this is an easy way to improve the feeling of a bicycle's stability. 

Cycling with a load

Finally, whereas a bicycle might feel perfectly stable unloaded, some notice that introducing weight in the front basket or on the rear rack can disrupt that stability. Most of the time, this happens with a front rather than rear load: the bicycle begins to weave or wobble if the front is overloaded. There can be a myriad of causes for this, and subsequently a myriad of ways to deal with them. Generally speaking, carrying weight lower on the bike (i.e. not mounting a basket on the handlebars) is said to improve stability. But some bicycles are just not intended for a front load no matter what.

While it might be difficult to express what we mean by stability, breaking it down into specifics can be helpful - both in communicating with others and in gaining more insight into our own preferences. In attempting to understand the nuances of ride quality, it continues to amaze me how the same idea can be echoed by so many people, yet mean something slightly (or even not so slightly) different to each. Does a novice who finds their bicycle unstable need a different bike, or merely wider tires? Could be either.

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