#365daysofbiking That’s some hammock:
November 12th – Back in Redditch and an ageing Dawes Ultra Galaxy – a classic British tourer – caked in the bike shed.
I don;’t know who this fine stetted belongs to, but I noted the nurse’s lock and Brooks leather saddle.
However well ridden and looked after, though, one thing stands out: That saddle. The tension has never been adjusted, and that is more like a hammock.
Bet that’s an interesting ride…
March 18th – A bit of a tip for the Brooks saddle owners with a sheared tension bolt, as I suffered last week.
If your saddle hasn’t stretched much, it can be particularly hard to get the replacement bolt in – in the factory, the saddles are stretched on a hydraulic jig, so fitting a replacement can be a struggle to the home mechanic.
The problem is made worse because the pin isn’t threaded all the way up – and an extra 2mm of thread could make all the difference, and did on my saddle.
To make fitting a replacement easier, I took the adjusting nut from the new pin, and turned 2mm off the head on the lathe at work. It’s a steel nut, so there’s plenty of material left, and that 2mm allows the nut to be wound back clear enough to fit the pin with minimum leverage.
If you have this problem and don’t have access to a lathe, just find a handy local engineering company where someone will probably do this very quick task for a pint.
It could make the difference between doing the job yourself and having to return the saddle to Brooks.
March 14th – Brooks Saddles. Made and broken in the Midlands.
I love a Brooks leather saddle – made in Smethwick for a century or more from real leather, they’re a marmite thing amongst cyclists – you ether love them or hate them. I adore them; I’ve ridden on a Brooks for tens of thousands of miles and I’ve never found anything that fits my ample arse better.
However, some aspects of them are not great. the ‘Brooks creak’, where at an indeterminate point after breaking in, the thing squeaks noisily for 400 miles or so no matter what you do to relieve it; the sometimes middling build quality can be disappointing; but both of these pale compared to the real annoyance – poor quality tension pins.
The two metal objects above should be one piece. This bolt sits in a yoke from the saddle rails to the nose, the nut adjusting the tension of the whole thing. It rarely needs adjusting, but it takes the entire weight of my resplendent girth.
Until it fatigue-snaps on the way home.
They are a bugger to replace, and cost a fiver a time. To snap like this (and it’s a common, longstanding moan with Brooks customers) the component is poor quality. It would be easier to fit were it threaded to the boss. The whole thing is weak and shoddy. That’s very poor for a £60 saddle.
It left me with an uncomfortable, rattly ride home and a horrid workshop job to do.
But I still wouldn’t entrust my posterior to any other brand.
Brooks you muppets, sort it the hell out. Please.
April 15th – I seem to be going through a mechanical rough patch. It happens, I guess, but it’s frustrating. My bikes are never the cleanest around, but I like to keep them mechanically tip-top. Thus when you have a rash of failures, it can be really disheartening. Following a spate of punctures last week, and the bizarre failure of the crank, yesterday the tension bolt on my saddle snapped, making for an uncomfortable ride home.
I use Brooks saddles – traditional, made in Birmingham, they’re the best thing I’ve found for my bum, and they give years of service. Lauded and hated equally by the cycling community, there are all kinds of myths surrounding Brooks saddles; you need 500 miles to ‘break one in’, they need constant oiling, they’re ruined if you adjust the tension.
A saddle is a saddle – it either fits your arse or it doesn’t. If a Brooks doesn’t feel nice when you first get on, it’ll never fit you and you’ll hate it forever. But if it does fit, wearing it in will make it fit even better. I oil mine using Proofide once a year. I occasionally nip the tension up a half-turn when it gets a bit hammocky to ride. Again, about once a year.
I have never been as comfy on a bike as I have with a Brooks between me and the miles. I love them. I can ride all day (and often do) and never feel sore on them. But that’s me.
Always try a saddle before you buy it.
My only criticism of these posterior wonders of comfort is the tension pins are crap. They snap usually at the point where the thread finishes, as this one has. The head fits in a socket at the nose of the saddle, and there’s a nut (not shown) that tightens against a shackle acting against it, and the rails. This takes most of my weight, and fatigues. The threaded part above has been filed to enable me to get the nut off without damaging it’s threads.
Easy enough to replace, this is the second time this pin has broken on this saddle in it’s ten year lifespan. What’s annoying is they’re a cheap £4 replacement, but postage doubles the price. Fortunately, last time this happened, I ordered a spare, too.
I love Brooks saddles. But they ain’t perfect and they’re not for everyone…
December 8th – I was stuck in doing paperwork most of the day, but skipped out late to do some shopping and take the air. Stopping at the dreaded Tesco in Brownhills for my fix of posh doughnuts, I noted I wasn’t the only occupant of the bike rack. There was a rather fine Mongoose hybrid parked up, with traditional Caradice long flap saddlebag and a rather splendid Brooks B33 fully sprung saddle. Man, that thing is the equivalent of a sofa. That really is being kind to your bum. Whoever owns this steed is very fond of it and loves traditional British cycling gear. And to whoever they are, I doff my hat… Chapeau, sir!
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