2009 Century #2 and Leather Saddles (again)

The confusing title means that I did another 100-mile ride last week, this time from Empire (MI) to Traverse City, out the Old Mission Peninsula, and back. I am working up to the two 100-mile days that would be necessary to ride from Empire to Lansing in two days. I think I could do it. (Obviously, I would need to take the shortest route, M-115, between here and Clare. Although M-115 is fantastically busy, I'd ride it on a week day, and the second half, between Cadillac and Clare, is almost entirely brand new, with very wide shoulders.)

The Old Mission century was very nice. I left at 7:30 and returned at 4:00, so about eight and a half hours. Not too bad for an old guy. The route is fantastically hilly, cutting across the north-south glacial moraines the run up the peninsula. I tried to take nice back roads, but I took a wrong turn outside of Traverse City, and so I found myself on Cedar Run Rd, which is unpleasantly busy and narrow.

The peninsula itself is glorious riding. The coastal roads are flat and beautiful, with little traffic (particularly on the east side). The middle is hilly, but not too hilly, and very beautiful. I'd recommend the peninsula loop to anyone.

And now to rehash the saddle question: All stylish, retro, country-bike, randoneurish, Grant/Sheldon/Velo-Orange-Guy followers know that leather saddles are the final word in comfort. Gotta be. Everyone says so. Everyone who wants to fight the forces of racing and their wannabes knows it. I know it. Really.

I strayed from the straight and narrow and leather. I put on Avocet touring saddles, stretched leather (or even vinyl) over (GASP!) padding. I rode a little mini-tour with such a saddle. I was very comfy the whole way, but I know it was wrong. (But at least the saddle on my touring bike has a leather cover. That makes it a little OK.)

So to try to redeem myself, to make my heroic stand against the forces of padding and plastic, I laced up one of my B17s (to make it less saggy) and put it back on the Rivendell. How did it feel? Well . . . OK, I guess. Sort of comfortable. Virtuous, though, definitely virtuous. And cool (not temperature cool--totally with-it and hip cool). I decided that I would ride it on my century.

How was it? OK. Not horrible. But here's the deal. I found myself wiggling almost constantly, from the very first mile to the last. That must use energy, all that strategic placement and replacement to minimize the uncomfortable hot spots.

Finally, as I rolled in to town after 100 miles, I was forced to admit that it's just not very comfortable. There are too many hot spots where my butt bones contact the unyielding leather and form welts on my tender skin.

I put the plastic Avocet WII touring saddle back on, and voila! no more wiggles. I can plant my fat ass on the saddle and ride 25 miles with nary a twitch.

So here's the new measure of comfort, dear readers: The W Factor. (W for wiggle.) It's a simple ratio: The W factor = the number of pedal revolutions per butt wiggle. (Significant, true position-shifting wiggles, not just micro-wiggles.) I found on my long ride last week that my W factor was approaching 1. That is, I squirmed and adjusted every single time the pedal went around. No matter how loyal to my gurus I am, I'm forced to conclude that a saddle with a W factor of 1 is an uncomfortable saddle. Even in the middle of the fourth day of my mini-tour this summer, my Avocet padded touring saddle was nowhere near a W of 1. (Understand that these touring saddles are hard: the padding is a perfect combination of yield and firmness. No squishy raspberry butt saddles here.)

And for short 25-mile rides, my plastic Touring WII saddle has a W of several thousand. That's a comfortable saddle.

On the first century of the season back in April I rode the Avocet, and I recall that its comfort was a non-issue. That is, I didn't think about it, which tells me that it was fine.

So I'll leave my B17s on the shelf and keep riding my woman's padded touring saddles. Not cool, perhaps, but comfy.