Cobblestone Madness!

I fully intended to draft a substantive post this evening, but I'm too engrossed watching the best stage of Le Tour EVER!!!  The combination of rain and multiple cobblestone segments has turned Stage 5 into one of the most spectacular sporting debacles (behind yesterday's  Brazil implosion, of course) ever!  Tune in next week for complete, expert, analysis on why prima donnas on $10,000 bikes fall down in conditions bikeist commuters successfully navigate on a daily basis:

Awesome . . .

Still Squeaking

From a biking perspective, this has already been one of my weirdest summers ever.  Whereas I would normally have put in a thousand or so miles by now, I've been in a sort of bike limbo the past couple of months.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still in the saddle just about every day (the beauty of living a bike-commuter, one car lifestyle)  but nature and the powers that be just seem to be conspiring to keep me from racking up my typical summertime mega-mileage.  

Whether the move in May, the job change in June, or my littlest Bikeist's hospitalizations (she's doing great, by the way, almost fully recovered), life just keeps on happening to me.  Then, as you loyal readers already know, just as it felt like I was coming out of the other side of the tunnel, my saddle began squeaking to the point of distraction (for me and anybody unlucky enough to fall in next to me on our Saturday morning club ride).  As previously discussed, after endless attempts to eliminate the squeak through adjustments, oiling, voo-doo, etc., I concluded that the only reasonable solution was to buy a very expensive, solidly constructed, leather saddle.  The Selle Anatomica X got the nod, based upon the opinions of several Crown City Cyclists, some who ride it, and some who noticed it as the sadle of choice for Race Across America (RAAM) competitors.

So, I reached out to Selle Anatomica, which happens to be a San Diego company (how about that?!), and shamelessly begged for a free saddle based upon my prominent stature in the San Diego biking community.  After a little initial confusion ("the bike what?" -- "bikelist?"), they were so blown away by the opportunity to have a bonafide bike celebrity test their product that they offered to sell me the saddle at cost (same as they do for employees).  Score one for the Bikeist!  This blog hasn't made me rich yet, but we're getting there --

In a mere two days, I had a (gorgeous) Selle Anatomica X saddle in my possession:

So pretty!

It happened to arrive on a Friday, so, there I was Friday night, in the garage, carefully installing it to just the right position, with just enough tension (via the easy to adjust tension bolt under the nose) so it would be ready to go as I ser out with my club the next morning.  My minimal testing in the parking lot across from my house led me to believe that the squeak had finally been defeated.  But, much to my horror, as we started to get up to cruising speed on the Strand, south of the Naval Amphibious Base, the dude next to me asked what the deal was with my squeak.  I think I had been in denial up to that point (especially since the saddle, as advertised, was uber-comfortable right out of the box).  But, his observation burst my bubble instantly, and I quickly realized that the rhythmic eee-aww, eee-aww, eee-aww, was as bad as (or worse than) ever!

Unbelievable!  

This, at least, confirmed for me that the issue was not with the saddle, but something else.  The hardware attaching the saddle?  The (brand new carbon) seat post?  A crack in the frame?  Thus, it was time to pull out the big gun -- had to go off-island and employ my secret-weapon bike-mechanic -- the guy who, through trial and error, always seems to be able to solve problems beyond the ken of mere mortal mechanics.  Drawback is that he can't just drop everything for my issues, so I had to leave my bike with him for the entirety of the holiday weekend.  I wound up doing some fun, shorter, rides on the (squeak-free) Urban Assault Bike during my 96 hours of liberty, but missed out on the several hundred I usually do 4th of July week. 

It'll all be worth it if my mechanic gets the squeak out.  Even if he can't, I really couldn't conceive of biking another mile with that incessant, grating, squeak shooting through my brain like a spike.  If he can't solve it, I'm just getting a new bike -- can't take this anymore!

I'll leave you all with a little piece of serenity from this morning's ride up to Cabrillo National Monument.  In the meantime, please pray for my bike . . .  

Where Is The Bikeist?

Sorry Bikeist fans, couldn't post this Monday as I'm at the Spina Bifida Association Conference at Disneyland with my little bikeists and long-suffering-wife.  Interestingly, I have spotted many types of bikes at use within the park, from trikes used by maintenance workers, to the one used by these guys:

Haiku

3rd of July

Watching baseball

On the sleeping porch

With the dog

Transitioning

Went late into the night cleaning out my old office last night, and have officially reported to my new command today, which was decorated with dozens of pictures of dogs on surfboards -- as was the hallway, my nameplate on my door, the break-room, etc.. -- all courtesy of my predecessor who is having way too much fun with the whole "dog blog" thing.

I could be in for a long tour . . .

Dog With a Bike Blog

One of the quainter aspects of being in the Navy is our love for our storied traditions.  One of my personal favorites has always been the Hail and Farewell, where the wardroom comes together to send up those who are departing the command and mildly embarrass the newbies by calling them up to be introduced to the assemblage.  Well, it was my favorite until Friday I think.  As I'm in the midst of changing commands (don't panic Bikeist fans, I'm staying in San Diego!), I have been going through a whirlwind of farewells from my old command and one, unfortunate, hail from my new one.  Don't get me wrong, the hail was a perfectly nice event, and a great opportunity to get to know my impressive new shipmates.  The problem was the whole indignity part --

As I've seen at dozens and dozens of other such events, the hailee is called to the front of the room to be "introduced."  As is standard, you supply the MC (usually the XO or Chief of Staff) with an info sheet before the event for her or him to use as fodder to make you squirm a bit.  No big deal for me, as I actually enjoy the whole ordeal and have no problem with being the butt of any joke or prank.  But, messing with my blog is a whole different story!

In my case, I provided the standard information about my family, including reference to my "useless backup auxiliary Boston Terrier/Chihuahua, Benny." (You're welcome CoS!  Nothing funnier than a big, bad guy like me owning such an ineffectual pooch!). Then, under the "Something Interesting About Me" category, I of course, proudly, revealed that I write a bike blog under the pseudonym "The San Diego Bikeist."  Fascinating, right?  Who wouldn't be instantly impressed and enthralled to have a legitimate celebrity in their wardroom?  We'll never know --

It started out well enough, the CoS -- who looks and seems like he could be the love child of James Duvall's "Great Santini" (complete with flight suit) and Jesse "The Body" Ventura --

-- pointed out that I devoted more space in my info sheet to my dogs than my own daughters.  Good stuff -- squarely hitting the softball I provided.  Then it got ugly.  "And, as if that's not enough, this guy spends his free time writing a 'Dog Blog'!"  That's when everything just became a blur to me.  Witness accounts report that I clearly mouthed "It's a bike blog!" through the look of supreme anguish and befuddlement that instantly wiped the stupid new-guy grin off my face.

Really?  A dog blog?  Instead of an ultra-cool bike enthusiast, my new shipmates have now been given the first impression that I'm one of those dog people.  Sure, I love dogs, and most animals, but NOT more than people.  More importantly, I don't think that they are people, and certainly wouldn't devote an entire blog to them.  I mean, "dog person" is just one, very small, step above "cat lady."   I obsess about frames and saddles and pedals, not paws and whiskers --

I have very little memory of the rest of the evening, except shaking the hands of lots of folks in flight suits and muttering "It's actually a bike blog" over and over.  Pretty sure nobody heard it over the din, though.  

Not sure if I'll ever recover from this.  Might be time to start seriously considering an alternate form of employment.  Wonder if any local kennels  are hiring . . .

"Squeak, squeak, squeak . . ."

Apologies for this extremely late edition of The Bikeist.  The problem is that I've been distracted to distraction by my squeaky, creaking, noisy saddle all week. Tried to replace it with a Specialized Toupe, but the brand new saddle creaked even more!

A quick Google search by my crack research team revealed a plethora of riders with identical complaints about Specializes saddles.  The big problem, though, is that almost all riders, noise or not, rate Specialized Body Geometry saddles as the most comfortable they have ever ridden.  I have to agree.  After decades of gutting out numbness, pain, and tingling, my Specialized saddle has made all of that go away like magic.

I have tried everything with my current saddle:  readjusting the rails, oiling them, untightening and re-tightening everything, slightly varying the saddle position.  Yet, there it is whenever I begin to apply the slightest bit of torque -- a rhythmic "eee-aww, eee-aww, eee-aww . . ." not unlike having a minute donkey trapped in my saddle-bag.

Guys at the shop recommend I try a Fiz•ik saddle, like a lot of pros ride, but they're pretty expensive, and I've read complaints about them being uncomfortable (comfort being the #1 feature we should all look for in a saddle, with unsqueakiness running a close second).  Some of my friends say I ahould break down and get a Brooks leather saddle.  

They are soo beautiful and well made (the Cambium, non leather, model I have on my urban assault bike never squeaks, but is too hard for long rides).  But, they can take a year to break in and are ruined if they get wet.

This problem is so typical of the problems faced by avid bike riders.  When you spend so much time in the saddle, you become very particular about your bike and how it performs.  So, a small thing like a sqeak can just about drive you insane.  Even more maddening, though, is that, even though bicycles are refined machines, there never seems to be an obvious, scientific, black and white answer to these sorts of problems.  I'd be better off going to a psychic than to a bike mechanic to figure this one out.

So, after months of experimentation, I decided to seize the opportunity to pester all my cycling club friends at once last night at the farewell we held for one of our legendary riders (and avid member of The Bikeist's fan-base), Chris.  And the near consensus was that I should go with the Selle Anatomica:

It's a leather saddle, that incorporates the modern, Specialized-type approach to relieving pelvic pressure, that riders claim is comfortable right out of the box -- so no prolonged break-in period!  

I'm sold!  Hopefully, it will be more solidly constructed than the plasticky Specialized saddles I've been riding and trying out.  I'll be sure to let you know.