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Friday, May 17, 2013

It can certainly wait, mom and dad.

I usually don't jump on bandwagons.... (ok, I probably do more than I'm willing to admit.)... whatever.  However, after countless busy months for me, I'm finally back into something resembling a routine with regards to riding to-and-from work.  It feels GREAT... except for one small thing.  Perhaps it's always been there and I've neglected to notice; but, I've recently noticed quite a few folks texting-and-driving in my immediate vicinity during my commutes.  Instead of ranting wildly about it, I'd like to take a moment to get behind the "It Can Wait" program:  originally initiated by AT&T a couple years back and now supported by nearly all the major wireless players and about 200 other organizations, this program exists as an outreach mechanism to end texting-and-driving.  The stats and stories are compelling, and their webpage has it all.  Give it a look.  If you have teen drivers, give it a look with them.  Talk about it... and be a grown-up:  I'll get to that later.

From a bicyclist's perspective, specifically, this represents a message worth spreading.  Just as I don't personally prefer jerseys slathered with corporate logos, I'm not much on bumper stickers, either.... but something like the logo above laminated into a spoke card, or something to hang from the rear panniers comes to mind.  Drivers behind me would do one of two things:  ignore it, the way they ignore everything else cycling-related... including us riders... or, read it in the context of someone usually occupying the area of the road where (I'd wager) 50% of texting-while-driving drivers tend to wander towards when they aren't watching the road.  This is based on the assumption that the other 50% would be slowly wandering toward the center line of the road... at which point, does it really matter WHICH way they're wandering?  If they suddenly over-correct for such a move, they are again aiming for the part of the road we're riding in.  In any of the millions of scenarios and outcomes that come from playing this out, someone's going to get spooked at the VERY least... and drivers, school kids, pedestrians, joggers, the guy edging the median with a line-trimmer, the guy getting his mail from the roadside postbox, and - yes - that guy riding his bike, are all in danger.  You know the rest.

The only beef I have with this program, if I had to pick out an item to critique, is the focus on teens.  Teen drivers, interestingly, do NOT make up the majority of "bad drivers."  I wish I could find the study I recently read - I must have spaced it out - but, from my obviously imperfect sample size and scattered observations from the saddle (ninja-plug!) I have come to conclude that the largest group of offenders in the texting-while-driving category are people that oughta know better.  

Most teen drivers I see, though there are some exceptions, are NOT texting and driving.  they've heard the rhetoric.  They might be within a few degrees of someone that has sadly suffered from the social stigma that is gaining the same kind of traction as smoking cigarettes and drunk driving in teen circles.  Many times I will see them at a stop-light, sitting idle, and checking their phones, yes, ... but upon rolling, they are (apparently) putting the devices down and resuming focus on the task at hand.  In many cases, the appearance of a device in a teen driver's hand has far more to do with changing the music track than it does checking their status or email.  In this age of nerd-chic, "smart=sexy", Mythbusters, and social awareness, and the targeted exposure on TV, radio, pre-movie PSAs, and reverse peer-pressure, teens SEEM to "get it."  

So, who's doing it?  Again, this is MY silly "research," but, each time I see someone actively moving forward in a vehicle while simultaneously staring into their lap, or, with their device-laden hand extended in front of them (as if super-positioning will give them some sort of advantage and prevent impairment), it is someone in their "parenting years", which I'll use for a blanket demographic of late-20's to early-50's.  Soccer-mom's and dad's, on the school run, with their kids in the back (probably with their faces buried in some device or another, too, if not glued to the in-car DVD player's monitor... you know the look:  that bolt upward, glazed over look of a generation doomed to never fully develop the use of their neck muscles.  Zombie apocalypse... will we be able to tell the difference between the truly undead and the just-plain lazy?  I digress....  the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do parenting style still reigns, and it's people that oughta know better who seem to stand out as the offenders.  It's THESE folks that need to be grown-ups about it, and realize how silly it is to facetweet and text while driving the kids to the mall.  It.  Can.  Wait.  Seriously.   

I know we'll get there.  Programs like this help raise awareness.  It's needed.  I remember a time where buckling a seat-belt was NOT automatic behavior.  Now, I feel somehow exposed and naked without a seatbelt on in a car, even in the driveway.  Why some people STILL don't do it, it's beyond my comprehension - and can only be explained with the notion that one can't cure "stupid."  But, we will get there.  Preventing forest fires, climbing utility poles, buckling up, friends not letting friends drive drunk, just saying "no"; advocacy and awareness does - eventually - help. 

For the cycling community, heck, the entire two-wheeled community (as if motorcyclists weren't up against enough already, texting and driving is certainly on their minds, too)... You don't need to "pledge", or sign anything... we all know the rhetoric by now.  Live by it.  Don't text and drive.  None of us are above it.  

Especially for the benefit of those NOT protected by a steel crumple-shell, please, spread the word.  


Thanks for reading . . . 

Friday, May 10, 2013

It's Bike To Work Week 2013!

It's that time of year again... which is weird, considering winter just ended.  (HA, local humor.)
Bike To Work Week - a great way to introduce yourself to the satisfying pursuit of riding your bike to work, and replacing car trips with walking, public transport, or cycling.  Do it!
Check out the map link for Overland Park, KS's Bike-to-Breakfast reststops, set up at various points each day throughout the city:  Who knows... you might meet a fellow first-timer, or a commuting mentor-in-the-making.  Sign the log, have some coffee, and grab some swag... it's ON, commuters!  Mount up, and head to the office!


See you out there!


Monday, May 6, 2013

A different animal



I love a good project bike – and it’s been a long time since I've had the opportunity to actually bring something into my stable and do work.  The last decade, instead, has seen a slow progression of bicycles leaving the stable, in lieu of “the one” and various financial challenges.  At one point in 2005, I had no less than 10 bikes in varied states of ride-ability – and at least four that I could grab at will and ride.  I had the commuter-steed, the weekend warrior, the grocery bike, the beer-run/bar-hopper fixie, and usually one “beater” for nasty weather.  Since 2008, however, aside from a rotation of my kid’s bikes as they grew, the stable has held only three:  the do-everything Kogs, my Dad’s ’68 Schwinn, and my Uncle-in-law’s ’74 Peugeot PR-10.  The latter I had restored to hopefully sell for my uncle, but, the bottom of the market fell out before I finished the job.  Neither of the two family-heirloom bikes has been ridden by me, short of a quick test ride on the Peugeot in ’08 just to confirm it was finished and ready for sale.  Since then, they've just hung upside-down, as personal museum pieces. 

However, I have found the bug again, and after some careful negotiations and a fair price determined, the Peugeot is no longer my uncle’s, in storage; it’s become my own.  Sure, I could just leave it as-is.  After all, purchased new in ’74 in Holland, the bike has rare French parts on it that simply don’t exist anymore, from Lyotard, Normandy, Simplex, Ideale, MAFAC, Atax, and Stronglight.  Riding it, though most would argue that is what it was made for, just seemed out of the question for me, personally.  The frame, however, is the weak link.  With nearly 25 years of garage-wear, scratches and dents on it, caked in grease upon receipt, the frame and paint have seen far better days.  Most would consider it “totaled”, based on the top-tube dent alone.  It’s not the gold-standard PX-10 model (the kind that Merckx rode to victory on a few occasions).  The PR-10, its lower-rung step-child, is still made from good, light tubing; but it’s lacking the finer, collectible touches of the bespoke PX models.  The lugs look like they were cut with a hack-saw and doped-together like household plumbing…but, it’s still lugged steel, baby.  From the standpoint of the frame alone, my mental plan started to make some sense:  remove all the interesting French bits, keep an eye out for an actual PX-10 frameset someday, and use THIS frame for a project bike. 

Yeah, yeah… that’s the ticket….

Similar to the project bike I so dearly loved from circa 2003-2005, dubbed “IT”, I wanted to approach this one with the same money-saving outlook.  My uncle had been very, very kind on the final offer to acquire the bike – which basically amounted to “time-served,” a couple chores, and a handshake – so, I approached the task with a goal of spending as little as possible, unless it was something I just flat couldn't replicate myself.  .  If I don’t have the parts, I’m going to make them, scrounge them, or dumpster-dive them.  However, a dip into the parts drawer filled nearly all the gaps, and a recent “garage sale” purchase yielded the biggest piece I’d need:  a rear wheel.  So far, total investment is right around $25.  I bought a roll of reflective tape, and discount-rack bar tape in a nasty neon color… which seemed somehow fitting, anyways, so it worked out.  Everything else was already in the garage, amassed slowly from other failed and abandoned projects.  Even a spare battery headlight and taillight lay waiting… now back in use, instead of hiding in a box. 

The fenders, however, are gonna get me – and I may end up paying for a commercial product here.  The corrugated plastic campaign yard-sign vs. wire coat-hanger prototype currently fitted is pretty sloppy, and VERY wobbly… even mild pavement joints introduce enough jiggle that the only thing stopping the side-to-side oscillation of the home-made fenders are the tires they keep smacking into over and over.  Extra coat-hanger stays, duct-tape and zip-ties here and there, another lap around the block… still not quite what I had in mind.  I’m hacked off at myself, because after retiring and selling-off the Redline Monocog I’d used a couple winters ago, I can see myself shrugging my own shoulders and haphazardly tossing its fenders into the trash bin.  Ugh… the things I save, compared to the things I don’t save…. Sometimes I confuse myself!  By the time I buy stainless rods – even a pre-fab replacement stays kit from Amazon, cut, trim, and fashion to the hacked campaign signs… yeesh, how much is my time worth again?

Other considerations:  I wanted to use a much taller stem for this bike; but the Franco-centric oddball quill diameter killed that dream really quick.  Getting the Stronglight crankset and bottom bracket out of the frame dang-near put me in the hospital:  Traditional crank-pullers don’t fit… they’re too small to engage the larger diameter spider threads on the French stuff, and trying to hack something together is a great way to ruin the crankset.  Sure, there’s a tool available… for nearly $50.00… and, sadly, the shop that used to have one in their tool-box has long-since closed its doors (RIP, ACME).  The solution ended up being patience and brute force… but, I finally freed the cranks from the bottom bracket spindle, after nearly splitting my skull open when the non-drive side arm finally let go.  Head meets top-tube… at high speed.  TONG!!!!  Felt great.  The bottom bracket, too, has oddball wrench flats/notches which also require a special tool… so, being the special tool *I* am, I fiddled for nearly an hour devising a way to bypass the French “connection” to the frame… ultimately winning, with sore hands and lungs full of chromium dust.  As much as I’d like to curse them, I can’t really fault Peugeot for trying-on this particular business model – though I’m fairly sure it ultimately played a role in the demise of that company’s bicycle production.  It worked for Schwinn for far longer, in this country, but keeping to a common standard represents a better way to guarantee continued success – Raleigh, Cinelli, even Cannondale in some respects (Lefty shocks, anyone??) -- many bike companies find out too late, it seems, that proprietary goofiness is not a good way to keep customers.

Why’d I spend so much time restoring it, if the frame was such junk??  Yeah, I know.  Wishful thinking?  My 2008 brain is not my 2013 brain.  There’s a reason it never sold! 

Finally, Japan has a firm foothold on the old French frame – re-used older Shimano bottom bracket, beat-up Sugino VP cranks with a single no-name 42 tooth chainring, crusty old ACS single-speed freewheel (need to find a cheap fixed cog somewhere), random old KMC chain, spare 700c front wheel from an old Trek, from-who-knows-where road drop handlebars with the nasty neon bar wrap, and enough reflective tape to see the bike from space.  Headlight mounted, taillight mounted, old Blackburn rack mounted.  A pair of my used Panaracer tires pulled off the wall, and tubes reused from the bike’s original 27” wheels from when I restored it.

Playing on how I used to pronounce the last syllable of Peugeot when I was a kid, The “Poo-Goat”…. lives!

                (cue death metal theme song: key of  F minor)
Bahhhh!!!!!! 
(Four-count high-hat count-in)
rrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrRRRRR!!!
Poo-goat, poo-goat, poo-goat
I made you out of steel…
( Insert face-melting guitar riff)
Poo-goat, poo-goat, poo-goat
Sit Ubu, sit, good dog…
RRRRRR-AAHHHHHHRrrrrrr….
(insert double bass pedal solo)
Human shield!
Human shield!
Human shield!
Human shield!
Mosh!!!!
Diamonds.....and rust…

“Thank you” & cityname & “, goodnite!”


First impressions:  though some of it may be the difference in frame material compared to the Kogs, I had forgotten how smooth and fast the Panaracer tires felt….and it makes me wonder, almost immediately, why I’d switched to the Specializeds.  After a few block-laps, I hopped back on the Kogs for a quick comparison… not really a difference?… so maybe it’s just the way the single-speed transmission, higher spoke-count wheels, and larger volume tires feel compared to what I’m used to.  The Kogs is just as smooth, and fits better.  The Goat’s road drop bars are okay… but I feel really stretched out, despite the frame being nearly spot-on-measure with the Kogs.  Maybe some North Road style bars, or a simple flat bar from a mountain bike?  …at least a shorter stem, perhaps.  The vision:  the Goat will likely be a bad-weather bike… primarily to mean bad winter weather, because the BEST improvement over the Kogs involves tire clearance.  Combined with the slight diameter savings between 630 and 622 (27” to 700c) wheels and frame design of the period, there is more than enough clearance for Nokian’s 700c variety studded tires and fenders.  That part alone makes the time spent in the garage worth it – and I’ll gladly spend the cash on those tires if it enables ye-olde excuse-eliminator next fall.  If I can fix the stretched-out feeling with more upright bars, we may have a winner.  Fenders, too… I’ll end up spending some coinage on these accessory items, and that’s okay.  Even then, the Goat is definitely not a cash-vacuum so far, like some of my previous projects.

Other impressions:  having one gear ratio and silently whooshing along – feeling a marked difference in the way the drivetrain seems so directly connected to the earth – my immediate notion sounds a lot like history repeating:  the Kogs should be single-cog, too!  Not so sure I’ll go there, for a few reasons… but I had forgotten completely how amazing single-speed riding feels.  Sure, show me a couple big hills and I’d probably change my tune – but, there is definitely something sexy about it.  So light, so clean, so quiet, so ZEN…. It makes me wonder if I should intentionally keep the long-reach ill-fitting handlebars on the Goat in place, so I’m not tempted to start riding it too much.  Hmmmm….

For now, leaving well-enough alone… with the Kog’s vertical dropouts, whatever I do toward a single-cog conversion there will end up kludgy and compromised – unless I were to get extraordinarily lucky enough to find the perfect combination of chainring and cog to drop right in, without mods, chain tensioners, or eccentric hubs/bottom-brackets: speaking of cash-vacuums….it’s FAR better if I just not invite that particular monster out of the closet.  The Kogs is great, just the way it is – always has been.

…but, I also know myself well enough that knocking off a 200k with a single-speed under me again… that might be great for the soul, and fun, and the Goat may be just the animal for the job.  Limiting it to salt and ice alone just doesn’t seem fair. 

(Pics coming soon – bet on it!)


Saturday, April 27, 2013

Leather, Canvas, and Aluminum-Gallium-Arsenide

  Checking in from the news desk this morning, instead of from the open road... where, arguably, I *should* be right now, heading north into a non-existent headwind toward Iowa and some terrific scenery.  Alas, another month of "what-happened-to-my-life?" has passed, and school/work/school/school/work has kept me off the bike since the 300k wrapped up; which, still - no matter how many times I think it was only a week ago, it's indeed been nearly a month already.  Still, the smarter money sat with skipping the 400km ride to Iowa today -- as much as I love that route and reeled in delight at the finally favorable forecast, I don't have the miles in me, and there is another factor to consider - which I'll address in a moment.

Not really lamenting here... seems like it, but all things are good, honestly.  My attentions have been temporarily diverted toward other, worthy tasks... but, in the narrow focus of this web-page it feels like I haven't been doing much of anything.

A few of my "2nd quarter" resolutions, however, should take care of things.  More riding - even if it's short duration.  More commutes, because I miss doing it.  Finally pre-riding a 100km route, for finalization of RUSA certification of such.  Putting a few more positive changes into the diet, as I finally creep below the body-weight plateau I've been hammering since December (yea!).  More posts about commutes... since that's the namesake of this blog in the first place, and since I find myself with good things to say about the former "drudgery" of commuting (it's all about attitude... and after months of driving, I'm approaching the activity with new eyes, lately).  All worthy goals... but, nothing too lofty.  On the rando front, I am still targeting a 600km ride in July to satisfy that month's R-12 requirement... so, perhaps a couple longer permanents in May and June are appropriate.  Time to keep that 300k streak going, perhaps?  We'll see.

On the equipment front, I have marvelled recently at some interesting taillights.  I've spent the last couple years in a technological holding-pattern, fat and happy with my 2010-vintage generator-based LED lighting system and associated solid-mode taillight.  I've always stood by Busch + Muller's design philosophy with lighting equipment after having invested in a generator hub over a decade ago, as they have never rested on their laurels.  Many thought the transition from halogen to LED across the bicycle lighting market marked the end for generator lighting - but, it only took them a bit longer to work out some bugs.  A smart company, B+M never looked at LED battery lights as a threat as much as an opportunity, waiting patiently for the right emitters and circuits to accompany their superior optical platforms.  Steadily, B+M has held pace and (in my observations) has consistently out-performed other companies' battery LED bicycle lights, simply through the use of optical reflecting and focusing.  Combined with the obvious world-killing feature of never having to charge or replace batteries, generator systems remain relevant, smart, eco-friendly, and an ultimately economical choice for bicycle lighting.  However, where B+M lathers the competition in the embarrassing bright bluish-white glow of their headlights, they have not quite met with world standards in the taillight department when it comes to the United States market.

Certainly as B+M is a German company, their first directive would clearly serve their immediate non-export markets - and, in their defense, B+M makes the best European taillights you can buy:  battery OR generator-powered (in this reviewer's opinion).  They have specific color, brightness, and distance requirements to satisfy for European road-worthiness, and during the darkest night, the heaviest rain, or the thickest fog here in Kansas, I have never been left wanting for more when it comes to B+M taillight products.  Above all else, B+M also consistently provides a feature that many other companies have long-since relegated to the antique-box:  the retro-reflector.  On that point alone, B+M will likely remain my go-to product as a primary rear light.  Equipped with a good reflector, if all else fails, a car with headlights will still see a cyclist on the road - and that's a fail-safe any rider can appreciate.

What has seemingly taken the place of smartly-integrated retro-reflectors in this part of the world, however, are brighter and brighter LED emitters.  The Race Across America (RAAM), in which I was a crew participant last year, had added rules which dictated the use of at least a 1-watt rear light for all bicycles entered in competition, a product that - even 12-months ago - was barely available.  If I recall, only two products had been listed on the recommended-product list, and phone calls to nearly every local bike shop along the route didn't yield a result until we'd reached central Arizona.  Barely a year later, most manufacturers have at least one offering which hits the "1-watt" market yardstick, with a few leaping to "2-watts."

Techy-sidebar:  
I put the wattage figures above in quotes, as bicycle LEDs create the same consumer-friendly rating challenges that CFL and LED household lightbulbs do:  A 60-watt incandescent bulb truly uses 60-watts of power to generate its light output:  for the sake of argument let's say it's 800 Lumens.  A compact florescent light (CFL) will produce the same 800 Lumens while only using 13 watts of power to do so, and a household LED bulb will produce that same 800 Lumens while only consuming 6 watts of energy.  All three will light up a bedroom nicely, with roughly the same quality of warm white light - but, the efficiency of each is best told through how the light itself is created.  An incandescent filament actually glows because of the current passing through it, which heats it up.  The emission of energy produces visible light, but also waves you can't see, like heat - which are lost.  CFLs are slightly better, but still produce a spectrum of invisible waves and heat.  LEDs, while still producing some heat, are far more efficient and generally only throw out visible light waves in a very narrow bandwidth - so narrow that one needs specific LED emitters for specific colors - thus, far less power is wasted; yet some heat is always a byproduct of an electrical circuit.  So, while consumer packaging requirements are changing, and the term "Lumens" is entering the vernacular of the every-man lightbulb purchaser (despite having been on light-bulb packaging for as long as I can remember ANYway, albeit in very small print), the popular marketing benchmark remains wattage-based.  The discussion on watts vs. Lumens vs. Lux vs. candlepower is lengthy, but - the short story:  a true 1-watt LED would put out a LOT of lumens... so, rating taillight LEDs in watts isn't really an accurate rating, and not really an indication of how much power a device is really using to generate that output.  You can figure out how much your taillight uses with some math, but I won't bore you with that here.  The bicycle world tends towards tech-savvy people, however, and many packages are indeed headed in a Lumens-based marketing direction.  Having apples-to-apples figures helps buyers make smarter choices, and gives a better indication of a product's actual performance - and you can see that trend in the marketplace.  Just about every bicycle headlight manufacturer shows a lumen-rating on their products these days, which is helpful.  Taillights will likely follow suit, slowly.

During the night-time leg of the 300km ride last month, I rode with Del from central Kansas - a long-time bicycle tourer, he's keen on good gear by consequence of the challenges he pits himself against.  In keeping with this, he'd mounted Cygolite's latest offering - the Hotshot taillight.  MY review can be summed up in two words:  Good Lord.   I simply couldn't ride behind his bike with the thing on.  After some re-aiming, however, thanks to a narrow beam-width, the situation improved ... but, it's nearly comical how bright this taillight is.  I can't give a full review, as I don't own it (yet.), but, it's made my list as a potential candidate for a foul-weather beacon and backup taillight for longer rides.  It has a built-in, USB-rechargeable Lithium-ION battery, and a variety of settings for strobe/flash/solid modes - as well as the ability to vary the light output on steady-mode and speed-up/slow-down the flash frequency in the strobe/flash modes.. which, I think is a product-first.  Self-contained, small, and not too expensive at $40 MSRP - which, though spendy by taillight standards of 3 years ago, is a bargain when pitted against something like a Dinotte taillight set-up. Now, this is not to do Dinotte poorly - their taillight product is truly in its own class, is far brighter, and runs for far longer - but, instead should demonstrate the value of a product which places super-high output LEDs into the hands of a wider audience.  I may have to give the Cygolite Hotshot a try... but, perhaps only if I'm riding alone.  Short of being separated from traffic by biblical fog and falling bricks, I don't think there is any atmospheric condition this light couldn't punch through.  Just don't stare at it unless you want 30-minutes of floating purple dots.  Therein lay the only negative mark I'd give it:  it's a terrific way to get rid of wheel-suckers in a paceline.  This may not make sense to many, but, it's so bright on-axis I can almost "hear" it.  Wow.  Just wow.

One method to keep your drafting partners happy, should you use this bright of a taillight, involves hiding it from close-proximity view underneath a seatbag - like the included seatpost mount would facilitate.  From 20 feet back, the taillight remains perfectly visible for approaching traffic; yet, from 10 feet or less, your riding buddies won't be blinded.  This may not be practical for all applications, however, as I find for myself with one of my recent purchases.  Looking backwards through time for my forgotten successful approaches to longer distance randonneuring, I have recently invited something from Nelson, England back into the stable - namely, a Carradice bag.  Correcting an old misgiving, I've procured the smallest saddlebag they produce - the popular Barley model - trying to steer clear of the old adage that having a large bag inspires one to try and fill it (read: with stuff one doesn't need to carry along).  I've grown accustomed to travelling light on brevet, so emptying my back pockets remained the only real improvement I could make to my otherwise successful rando setup.  Now, my relatively heavy phone, a few discarded layers, energy gels and a couple bags of powder will all go inside the waterproof cavern behind me, improving rider comfort and eliminating the fatigue multiplier of having a close collar, sagging jersey, and tender lower back after mile seventy.  The back pockets will remain free for quick eats, discarded layers that haven't made it to the bag yet (but will at the next control), the cue sheet and tiny iPod perhaps.  Returning to a bag also yields faster controls: a couple of buckles undone, toss, and go.  Reverse to add layers later - instead of racks, carefully rolled bundles, and toe straps.  That latter system has worked well - but, it has proved time consuming and limiting.  Now, I can carry along the extra layer I'd been wishing for these last few rides, without worrying about where to put it.  Weight penalty is negligible.  I'm honestly not worried about weight.  I have more to lose from my midsection - so, I'll soon negate whatever I've added to the bike, and the added flexibility will more than compensate.  After toying with camera bags and rack trunks, and repurposing this-n-that for various trial runs --- even partially finishing a Kent Petersen-inspired campaign-sign, duct-tape and zip tie rack box --- I decided on Carradice:  I know their stuff works from past use.  They make a handsome, bespoke product, which I appreciate.  Aesthetically, it keeps with my lugged-steel, knuckle-dragger mojo.  It has smart features which I don't have the skill or patience to replicate.  Finally, I got a good deal on it.  The only mistake I see is having sold off the one's I've had in the past -- but, again, those older ones were too large for what I needed to do, so, forgetting my tendency to make poor financial decisions, this has ultimately become a wise purchase.  The Barley model is perfect -- big enough, but doesn't invite the kitchen sink.  Good to have one of these in the stable again.  Review coming?  Probably not... I envision the bag doing what it had done in the past:  it disappears behind me, is three-fold faster at controls than the stuffed back pockets and clothing-roll routine I've used for the last 2 years, it's waterproof, durable, and will provide decades of reliable use.  That's Carradice - and, in my opinion, it's worth every bit o' quid the conversion rate yields its proprietors.

Leather saddles.... yikes.  I've tried twice with Brooks, and have been left unsatisfied afterwards.  That's no fault of Brooks - each of the two times I'd trialed the fine leather saddles (B-17 and Team Pro), it became a gut-wrenching ordeal letting go of something so gorgeous... but, they proved too expensive to hang on the wall.  Afterwards, I simply put my trusty Selle Italia Flite T/A back in place, and rode on.  Lately, however, over the past 18 months or so -- either I'm changing, or the saddle is.  While the pain has been mild so far, I have transitioned toward reappearing saddle sores and numbness - where previously there had been none.  Photographs also seem to indicate a clear change in saddle profile shape, very slow - but, still, it's there.  A few tweaks, spaced 6 months apart, did yield some improvement - but, the last four brevet-distance rides have left me wondering if 12 years on one saddle is too much.  I have again thrown my hat into the leather saddle ring.  First, I like the IDEA of a leather saddle... that knuckle-dragger's mojo again ...but, more than looks, I appreciate offerings from companies like Brooks because of their staying power.  If you rode a bicycle in 1918, and it had a B-17 on it, you can dust yourself off and start riding again in 2018 with the same saddle (in theory, of course... though if one should live so long, it would indeed be possible, but only assuming the 1918 Brooks had fallen into disrepair.)  My biggest complaint about Selle Italia (my current saddle's manufacturer) is the constant churn of product and design, and, while they could be applauded in some circles for marching ever-forward and advancing the art, being unable to hit their webpage and simply purchase a new-in-box Flite Trans-Am hurts more than the saddle sores my old one has created.  The designs they, and many other companies, offer today depart too far from that which I am familiar - so, I need to start auditioning saddles that I know I can obtain ten years from now -- either via replacement parts, or as complete saddles... (or, purchase two of them when I find the right match).  Further, oft-discussed on many blogs elsewhere, leather saddles have long been the randonneur's choice, and while I don't always follow the trends, if it is ME that has changed, and not my trusty Flite, then perhaps trying a few variations of leather is a good choice now - even if it hadn't been before.  Combined with a 6-month, no-questions, no-problems guarantee, I have partnered up with a popular internet shop near the Gulf of Mexico to begin the process of mount/ride/tweak/repeat.  I figure I have six permanents to figure out if this latest --- and possibly the most-drastic ---- change to my bicycle equipment will work out.  So far... I copy Steve W.'s assessment of his recent leather-club membership:  "Why did I wait so long??"

I'm hopeful, if not a little leery of the break-in period... so, I'm keeping the manufacturer and model in the bag for the moment.  If I do end up trying multiple models and makes, look for a comparison post in the future.  While saddles are ridiculously personal items, and most forums posts concerning them therefore nearly rubbish, I tend not to read saddle reviews...at least not the "this feels amazing!" sections.... so, I'll try to offer readers the courtesy of not gushing too much when I find "the one."  

For now, thanks for reading ---- good things to come!