A Big Pain in the Ass

 

I’ve always loved pedal powered things. Whether it was my first Big Wheel, my orange Huffy two wheeler with the banana seat, or all of the other numerous bicycles I’ve gone through over the years, I’ve always felt at home atop a bike. I even worked in the bicycle business for a good portion of my career. It’s my sport, I love it, and it has one big honking problem.

In all of my many years of riding bikes, I have NEVER found a bicycle seat that is comfortable to sit on. There is something fundamentally incompatible between my ass and a saddle. They just don’t fit together. Some are too soft and squishy, some too hard and rigid, some feel like there is no seat at all, just a post. But overall I’ve never been able to get to the point where the seat just disappears under me and I can ride without thinking about how much my ass hurts.

It’s not for lack of trying. I’ve bought countless saddles over the years. There’s a big box in the garage known as the seat graveyard, filled with failed attempts at comfort. I even had a custom fitting where they actually measured my ass. I was told that it (my ass) was quite normal and they fitted me into a nice Specialized saddle that now lives in the graveyard with all the others. Some of my purchases were more tolerable than others as I did continue to put miles on, but it was always a never ending quest to find that elusive comfy perch.

Then it all changed.

I was down in Tucson, AZ for the winter months and wanted to keep my cycling going as well as have another activity to enjoy in the beautiful sunshine besides the hateful game of golf. (There were issues with my game.) I had a road bike that was on it’s fourth seat and I just couldn’t get it to work. Frustration ensued and it was time for drastic action. Enter the recumbent.

As a lifetime cyclist I was familiar with recumbents in the general sense but had never had any interest in one for myself. They always seemed weird, cumbersome, slow, and, most of all, not as slick and cool looking as a true road bike. I’d dismissed them as the nerds of the bicycle world. 

But desperate times call for desperate measures, so I started researching them online – reading reviews, looking at manufacturer web sites, and seeking out testimonials. The funny part was that true road cyclist publications and riders treat recumbents like the dog poop stuck to your shoe of the bicycle world. No self respecting roadie would be caught dead on the nerd cycle. 

I kept at it, digging deeper, and started to find others that were faced with the dreaded ass to seat incompatibility that afflicted me. And, according to many, the recumbent bicycle was the miracle cure. It spreads your body weight out over a larger surface area rather than a tiny leather torture device that passes for a modern road saddle. The converts had all returned to riding and were doing it without pain and discomfort. I was intrigued.

Bike shops that deal in recumbents are few and far between, but as luck would have it there was one in Tucson. I went over, tried a number of different ones, and left. Too nerdy I told myself. I went riding the next day on my old bike expecting different results, but still came home with a sore ass and an even sorer disposition. That clinched it – I went back a day later and bought a Bacchetta Corsa recumbent.

The first few rides were a bit shaky as I basically had to relearn how to ride my bike from a laid back position. But I kept at it and, lo and behold, after the first measurable outing I came home feeling great! No sore ass, no tingly hands, no neck pain, no back pain, just the feeling that I had ridden some miles and it was fun. I went out a couple of days later for a longer ride and experienced the same result. To say I was amazed is an epic understatement after years of discomfort. 

Of course there are some annoyances with the recumbent, transportation being the biggest one. They are much longer and wider than a traditional bike, so you need a specific rack/vehicle combination that can handle it. They also attract a lot of attention, so if you don’t like to be noticed you probably won’t appreciate the oohs and aahs that come from people you encounter on your travels. And finally, traditional road bikers won’t give you the time of day as you go by. I think they’re too busy bent over in pain trying to remove their saddles from their colons to smile and wave but that’s just me.

So now I ply the backroads of wherever I happen to be, cruising happily atop my nerd cycle. Wave if you see me go by. Unless you have a tiny seat stuck up your ass.

Epilogue – the recumbent lasted a number of years as my main steed and still resides in the bike stable. Two years ago I got frustrated with the cumbersome qualities of the recumbent (mainly storage and transport) and started looking at traditional road bikes again (gasp). Credit perseverance or just stupid luck, but I found a very comfortable Trek Domane that I have ridden thousands of miles on. Yes, the seat is not as comfortable as the recumbent, but my ass is shaped like it now and it works for me. Happy cycling!