No mystique here: a fuzzy peach dropped on the kitchen counter gets bruised. Dropped again and again just makes me weep. Now imagine the exquisitely sensitive area repeatedly bounced on a bike saddle--oh, momma, pack me a popsicle ‘cause I need a chill.
|Comfort rating on this saddle: |
It's ok. What else have you got?
Finding the right biking seat is akin to finding the perfect prom dress: you can’t describe why it doesn’t work, you just know it’s squat. So it was time to stop pussyfooting around and do some serious shopping. We packed up our junk and headed to our favorite toy shop: Wildside Adventure Sports in Baraboo.
The first saddle was ok, it was an improvement over the saddle Sue had been riding, so it got us a little excited. But we didn't quit there. No need to get shafted when there were plummier rides to try. We snatched the moment and aimed to bag a better fit.
|A smooth-looking test saddle turned|
out to be a muffin mangler.
The next three saddles were beefy and slick; real lookers but they didn’t make it out of the parking lot. Comfort was the goal, not bone-hard pains in the patootie.
Nuts, a fourth saddle had the balls to call itself "gel," pretending to be softer on the gender bits, but it looked sort of dorky so didn't even qualify for a test.
|St. Brian of Wildside patiently|
replaced saddle after saddle.
The winner came with a package was practical, honest, and had a sense of humor. It called itself the “seriously comfortable Planet Bike A.R.S. Anatomic Relief Bicycle Saddle.” It fit, felt right, and allowed for a great ride. And what a bonus, it didn't stress the wallet.
|The winning seat: like Goldilocks, |
Sue found one that is just right.