I Should Be Windsurfing

It's windsurfing season here on the Leelanau Peninsula, the time when my covetous gaze once turned ever lakeward, the better to gain a peep at the piping breeze. 

"Wind's up!" I would cry and then drive frantically to the beach, rig, wade in, sail for sometimes as little as 15 minutes, then wade out, unrig, drive home, and get back to my life, only to keeping peeping lakeward to see if maybe I missed the best wind of the day. It consumed every waking minute.

Now I windsurf a lot less and bike a lot more. And I worry that I'm cheating myself out of the pleasure of regular sailing. But yesterday as I was grinding up the hill at the south end of Glen Lake I decided that I get equal pleasure in biking, in being able to grind up that hill and cruise at 19 mph in the flats and easily ride 30 miles as my daily outing. My legs felt good, the bike was smooth and responsive, and the scenery was lovely. Not Alpe d'Huez, not TdF speeds, but lovely and fun. Perhaps I am trying to ride away from old age; perhaps I won't like biking as much with old weak legs and gaspy lungs. But for now, it feels OK to neglect windsurfing in favor of biking. It's nice not to obsess as much.

B17

I've been trying to get back to the B17 saddle. Wonderfully comfortable leather, but the hard interface with my ass has caused welts in the past. So I slid the saddle forward (contrary to rivish philosophy, which holds that the saddle can't be too far back), which helps me use the wider part by rolling back onto my natural (ahem) cushion. Quite comfortable (relatively speaking, which means not actually comfortable but better than other saddles), and no welts thus far.

Interesting (and not often discusssed) how a saddle's comfort depends in part on the height of the handle bars and the relative forward placement of the saddle.

Update:

Nope. At the risk of TMI, let's just say butt boils are back. There's discomfort and then there's discomfort. The nicely padded saddle is back.

It has nothing to do with sweat or bacteria or chafing. It has everything to do with a bony butt on a hard leather saddle.

Enough said.