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I See Your Bicycle...

By Maynard Hershon

When I stop, post-ride at cyclists’ gathering places, and see bikes leaned against walls and parked in racks, I often imagine who is riding each of them.

I have a picture in my head of what a genuine rider’s bike looks like. I’m not talking about ones used for urban transport or hauling a trailer. I’m talking about those used for recreational rides, loops ridden for fun or fitness, or as preparation for events or races, bikes used for sport.

If you ride for sport, even if you only want to beat your time in the local charity ride or hang with your buddies on club outings, stand back and look at yours.

Is it a sleek, efficient tool? Does it reflect the fact that you don’t produce unlimited horsepower? Does it help you on longer, faster rides? Does it make riding curvy, bumpy roads a pleasure or is it a clumsy beast of burden, a mule in the Derby?

The first thing I notice about a bike is the seat. Not the particular saddle, necessarily, nor the relative height of it to the handlebars. What I see is the tilt and how high it is off the frame.

Some coaches used to say that there should be a fistful of seatpost showing between your frame and your saddle rails, but that seems conservative these days. Still, if you have less than one handful or more than two showing, ask someone you trust to check you out while riding.

If your saddle is not perfectly level with the ground, in my opinion something is wrong. If the nose angles down toward the front, I’d say it’s set too high and tilted to compensate. Lower it and level it. Remember: There should be a perceptible bend in the knee at the furthest extension of your crank arms while clipped into the pedals.

If your saddle is tilted up at the front, you shouldn’t need me to tell you something is sorely wrong.

If pushed forward as far as your seatpost will allow, again something is amiss. Moving a saddle forward just so you can comfortably reach your handlebars creates more problems than it solves. There are better ways to shorten your reach, ways that don’t disturb your position over the bottom bracket and pedals. Ask someone savvy at a shop to look at your fit.

If your saddle is inches above the level of your handlebars, either you are young, flexible and fit, or something is wrong. Are you riding your kid brother’s bike or was your too-small bike such a good deal you couldn’t pass it up?

What’s hanging from the back of your saddle? I use a smallish seat bag with an inner tube and a pair of plastic tire levers in it. I’ve never needed more, except for isolated instances over the years when I flatted twice on the same ride. When I go on long rides these days, I carry two tubes.

Are you sure you need a seat bag as large as a grocery bag? What will you do with all that stuff? Carry flat-fixing gear under the seat and an ID, cellphone and money in your jersey pockets.

If you do use a huge seat bag or rack bag, maybe it’s because you carry everything in it you could possibly need year round so you never have to think about what’s in there. You’re already packed for your dream tour from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego, even if you’re just doing the low-key Saturday club ride. You’re prepared. This article is not for you.

I don’t need a gigantic seat bag. I wouldn’t do ride after ride with a rack-top bag or suitcase-size seat bag to absorb items I’ve taken off as the day warmed, just as I would not wear a CamelBak on a 30- or 40-mile ride in mild temperatures.

I’ve never needed a chain breaker or multi-tool or whatever else clanks in those bags ride after ride after ride. Bikes are supposed to be quiet, right? If you carry CO2 cartridges instead of a pump, wrap them in cloth and rubber band them. Clanking is just not cool.

I choose clothing I can fold or roll up and stuff into a jersey pocket. I do like to start rides feeling warm, but I seldom shed garments as I ride. I resisted knee warmers for years but now I love them — take them off and they fold up small. I’ve always had arm warmers but seldom use them; if it’s cold enough for them, I wear a thin wind jacket.

The exception of the keeping-your-bike-lean program is tires. I don’t believe in light tires narrower than 25 mm. For me, 25 mm wide tires are perfect for 125-pound people.

Fatter tires, 28s maybe, provide a greater cushion of air to protect your rims. More air volume helps resist snakebike (compression) flats. Fatter tires stick to the road superiorly; they simply ride better and allow lower pressures for comfort and traction on wet roads.

Wider tires are not slower. Skinny tires, in my humble and reserved opinion, are a scam. They make a new bike look fast, adding to its showroom appeal. Skinny tires have no other positive attributes, save weight elsewhere.

I even ride tires claimed to reduce flats, typically heavier because they feature belts under the tread. Maybe you claim you “never get flats.” Or maybe you don’t hate them [skinny tires] because you ride alone, thus never make anyone have to wait on the roadside while you repair your punctures.

As you progress as a cyclist and begin riding with a club or regular group of friends, rethink your attitude about flats and lightweight, skinny tires. If you ride 60 miles, lighter tires could save you 30 seconds, maybe. If you ride in an ad, they surely will, but if you are on the road, they probably won’t.

If you puncture your rear tire with five miles left to go and it takes you seven minutes to fix it as your riding friends stand there for what seems like eternity, and the drizzle turns to rain, what have you gained?

More about this topic coming next month.

Contact Maynard on Twitter @maynardhershon or email him at mhreadermail@gmail.com.