Sunday Worship, I Mean, Bike Ride

After seeing Saving Private Ryan, someone suggested that I'd make a good chaplain.  I said that it was one of the most ludicrous suggestions anyone ever made to me.  After all, I explained, I'm not religious and don't know how I could be.

"Oh, but you are.   You have more beliefs than you realize.  And you have your rituals, and your form of worship."


"But I haven't been to church in..."


"That's not important.  You have your religion, and your bike rides are your form of worship."

Today--so many years, and almost as many life-changes, later-- I realize she may have been on to something:

Until I take my next trip to Rome, this is probably as close as I'll come to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. And, quite frankly, even though Michelangelo is one of the best (and one of my favorite) artists who ever lived, the light I saw in this scene means more to me than the stories that are depicted in that ceiling.  Plus, I didn't have to deal with the crowds in the Chapel.


Here is one stop on the route of my "pilgrimage": 

And then, I try to re-orient myself through signs, er, landmarks:

As the journey continues, there is only light to follow:

Sometimes the journey involves a crossing:

In the end, there is the revelation, in the form of light piercing the darkness:

It leadeth me to the still waters.  Well, all right, maybe they're not so still.  But even if hope and belief are eternal, rituals and liturgy are not. And I will "worship" again next Sunday.

The Saddle Saga Continues

I've decided that I really don't like my Terry Falcon X saddles.  In fact, I don't think I like the "donut" saddles at all.  Maybe I'm still carrying residual male chauvinism or something.


Back in the day, I tried what was then the newfangled saddle:  the Avocet Touring II.  An Avocet saddle was different from any other available at the time because it had two "mounds" on the rear, which made for a center "groove."  You might say it was the inverse of today's "donut" saddles.

    Avocet Touring II women's saddle, circa 1980.   Note the "bumps" or "mounds":  They were intended to  lift the cyclist off her perineal area.

Ironically, the Terry saddles (I've also been riding a Butterfly on my Helene.) feel much like that Avocet saddle, at least to me.  On the Terrys (Terries?), the edges of the cutout rub against the inside of my perineal area.  So did the edges of the raised ridges on the Avocet.  But I think that, if anything, the Terry saddles feel worse to me than the Avocet did.  Well, maybe it's not a matter of the saddle itself.  I think that what's being rubbed is softer tissue than I had back when I was riding the Avocet.

Below:  Terry Butterfly, an example of a "donut" saddle.  The rationalization for the cutout in the middle is the same as that for the "bumps" on the Avocet:  relief of pressure on the perineal area.

Plus, I really don't think that the tear in my vaginal wall was caused by the Brooks Pro saddles I had been riding.  They may have exacerbated a condition I already had because it has more of a "dome" shape than some other saddles, which are flatter.


Another common dislike I have of both Avocet and Terry saddles is that they don't allow me free fore-and-aft movement.  Contrary to popular belief, highly technical mountain bikers aren't the only ones who like to slide forward and backward on their saddles.  Back when I first started to ride distances, almost every serious rider did the same.  And that is the reason why I had to give up, however reluctantly, an elegant suede saddle I rode for a time.  (I don't know of any suede saddles that are being made today.) I now realize that saddles with smooth, flat tops are most conducive to my riding style.


That's the reason why I'm going to try the Brooks B-17.  I'm thinking of riding the narrower version, which is about the same width (which I liked) as the Terry Falcon X , on Arielle and Tosca.  And I'll probably use the standard version on Helene, as it is actually slightly wider than the Butterfly.

Brooks B-17 

I believe (and hope) that the flatter shape of the B17, combined with its firmness, will keep me resting on my sitbones and relieve some pressure from my perineal areas.  And, of course, the saddle will become more comfortable over time.  


I'm going to ride the men's models.  Their width is right for me:  In spite of my surgery, my sitbones didn't grow further apart. (That's normal.)  Also, women's saddles are shorter than men's.  As someone who, as I mentioned, likes to slide forward and backward on her saddle as she changes position, I prefer the length of men's saddles.


Finally, I am happy to put Brooks saddles on my bikes again.  Neither Brooks nor anyone else pays me to ride the company's offerings, so I apologize if I sound like an advertisement.  But I'll say this:  Very few, if any, other bike parts are of as high quality as Brooks saddles.  Plus, what saddle is more appropriate on a lugged English frame made from Reynolds tubing?

To Play Or Pay Mechanic: Which One Becomes A Lady?

My old Peugeot PX-10E came with this toolkit.  It was actually quite nice for its time, but the lack of Allen wrenches limits its usefulness on modern bikes and components.

The owner of a shop in which I worked once said, "You know what would make me rich?  Selling more bike tools!"


He wasn't referring to the money he would make from the tools themselves.  The real profit, he explained, would come when customers would try to use them.  Let's just say that the results sometimes weren't pretty.  When he was in a particularly grumpy mood, he'd tell a customer who mutilated his bike, "Play mechanic, pay mechanic."


Reading Velouria's post today in Lovely Bicycle! got me to thinking, many years after the fact, about what that owner said.  (Going to that post is worthwhile for the photos of her bike alone, not to mention what she says and how she says it!) Velouria raised the question of just how beneficial it actually is to do one's own bike repairs or modifications.  She astutely points out that it's not a matter of saving money:  In fact, beginning do-it-yourselfers routinely spend far more money on the wrong parts or tools, or by ruining said parts or tools through misuse or mis-installation, than they would have paid for a shop to do their work.  And, if you have no inclination or desire to do, or learn, bike mechanics, you probably won't do a very good job.  


On the other hand, she points out some very good reasons for some people to do their own work.  They include some of the reasons I do my own:  I have several bikes, I often change components and accessories, and I have taken, and plan to take, trips into places that don't have good bike shops, or any bike shops at all. Plus, I've ridden enough that I know what I want on my bikes.


And, interestingly (and disturbingly) enough, I am glad to have acquired my skills before undergoing my gender transitions. While the guys at Habitat have been helpful and honest, as some other mechanics and shops are, there are still others who try to take advantage of, or simply denigrate, female cyclists.  And, I have to admit, when I find shops and mechanics who employ double standards, I feel a kind of smug pride (as shameful and dangerous as that can be) when I ask a question and they either try to mislead me or simply hide the fact that they don't know the answer.

I must say, though, that some shops are trying to change.  I saw the owner of one when I was on my way home from work one night, and he asked why I hadn't stopped by.  I told him that the last time I was there, the sales person tried to sell me something that not only wouldn't have fit my bike, but would have been dangerous.  He apologized and I have since returned to that shop.  It's nearer than Habitat to where I live but doesn't have the same selection.   However, they are handy when I need a tire or chain or some other part for a next-day ride.


Anyway....Back when I was teaching myself basic repairs from the first edition of Tom Cuthbertson's Anybody's Bike Book, how could I have guessed that I would get paid to play a mechanic, and that those skills I was learning as a teenaged boy would help me to become an independent, confident...middle-aged woman?  How could I have predicted that the middle-aged woman would be riding bikes he put together?