Never Say Never

I really never have saddle problems. Usually my back is the first thing to give me trouble. That's what I tell people when they ask, 'doesn't your butt hurt riding all those miles'? I tell them 'no' because it's true. Or, at least, it used to be.

You know that arm twist thing that kids do to each other? Someone grabs your forearm with both hands and twists their hands in opposite directions? When I was a kid, we called that an 'Indian Arm Burn'. I'm sure that there is a newer non-denominational name for it these days. Whatever they call it, I'm sure it still feels like having the flesh torn off of your arm by a fat kid named Buster. Well, imagine someone doing that to your ass repeatedly for hours.

The pain started somewhere toward the end of yesterday's ride. By the time I got to the next motel, I was pretty swollen. I can't pinpoint exactly why this happened. Of course, I might be able to pinpoint it had I not been stupid enough to introduce multiple variables into a system that used to work just fine for me.

Going into a new riding season, experienced riders stick with the tried-and-true clothing, saddles, and riding positions that have proven to be comfortable. The beginning of the season can be especially hard on butts, so you don't want to go changing anything during those first few weeks. That is, of course, why I changed everything before my first tour.

A few weeks before leaving for camp, I replaced my 143mm Specialized Alias saddle with a 130mm version of the same saddle. I did this because I was trying to get even more comfortable (long sidebar story) and save weight. I put about 300 miles on the new saddle before coming to camp. I didn't have any problems with it, but I never rode it for more than a couple of hours. So that's one change. Secondly, I moved the saddle back a few centimeters. I don't even remember why I did that. Lastly, I wore some bike shorts that I don't use very often. I did this because they had a more 'modest' look, meaning that they let less skin tone show through in the more controversial regions of the body. I didn't want to be 'that guy' at camp with a bunch of strangers.

So, with these three new variables, I cannot pinpoint the problem. There are, actually, two additional variables, albeit beyond my control. A lot of the roads out here have a much rougher texture that the roads I normally ride in New York. That creates a lot of movement that I'm not used to. And, the route this week is very flat. With less climbing, that means less time out of the saddle and more weight toward the front of the saddle.

On today's ride, I went back to my usual shorts. Hell, if any crowd can handle the display, it would be this one. Besides, it's not like I'm sporting a Prince Albert. I also added a thin gel seat cover to the saddle. I know, I know, you are saying 'why introduce a new variable'?. Because without that cover, I'd probably be bleeding right now. For tomorrow, I'll move the seat a bit forward. I actually had about an hour long stretch of the ride today where I felt better. If I don't improve tomorrow, I may have to punt and try changing saddles. I know, more variables, but desperate times require desperate measures.

OK, enough about my ass... Today we rode to Gila Bend. Most of the scenery was pretty dull, except for a 20 mile stretch of RT 238 West where the road actually had bends and rolling hills. I rode alone all day -- staying away from the few small pacelines. As a result, I managed to keep my heart rate a lot lower than yesterday. My power output, however, was very erratic because I keep shifting on the saddle and standing. Normally my power curve (downloaded from my PowerTap) looks fairly smooth. Today, it looked like an EKG.

Speaking of rawhide, I passed about a dozen dehydrated cow carcasses along RT238. Each was all alone -- probably at least a mile between them. Some were laid out in a relaxed pose, looking a lot like their former live selves. Most, however, were bunched up in a cube-like shape -- as if they had been run through a car crusher. Since I did not stop to take a closer look at them, I really can't explain why they may have looked that way. Even though I eat more than my share of cow, it was sad to see them lying there all dried up and so far from the ranch. I guess some cows never come home.

Gila Bend is a pretty nothing town. It looks like it grew out of a motel and a restaurant. That drew a laundr-o-mat, and few other random stores. Then they stopped before the gene pool got too large. Luckily, nature compensates for that danger with immigration, or as some of us now prefer to say, 'intelligent fiscal migration'. We are staying in that original motel -- the 'Space Age Lodge and Restaurant'. It was created during the Sputnik years by a local magnate. Take a look. It really is space age -- it has wireless Internet. Lucky you.

Lessons Learned

Mistake: The whole business with the saddle.

Lesson: Once you get it right, leave it alone.

Mistake: Providing minimal instructions to the Denny's waitress. For breakfast this morning, I ordered a plain omelet, rye toast, and a side of pancakes. What I failed to do, however, was to specify that the kitchen not put four tablespoons of butter on each of the items.

Lesson: Better to be an annoying customer than train on a breakfast of twelve tablespoons of butter.

Ride Summary

Distance: 67 miles
Avg Speed: 16 mph
Riding Time: 4 hours 10 minutes
Total Time: 5 hours 15 minutes
Average Power: 123 watts
Max Power: 615 watts
Calories Measured at Wheel: 1852
Avg Heart Rate: 150

Total Distance This Year: 683 miles