Babbling Brooks: A Rivet Runs Through It.

It started with a tingle, a burning between my thighs, a sore spot where all that rubbing had chafed me raw.  It wasn't the pins and needles you get after a long, hard gravel ride...

 it was a saddle sore.  At first I thought it was just the garter buckles on my dominatrix outfit, but a quick once-over ruled that out.

(Don't judge me. What do YOU do with your used inner tubes?  Hmmmm?)

No, it wasn't my nocturnal proclivities causing the problem.  It was my daytime ride, Bea bike. That poor Electra's stock parts really struggle to meet the high level of performance I demand from my daily grind. I'm a big, strong girl.  I like to ride long, I like to ride hard, I like to ride fast, and I like to do it every day. When this pelvic region starts pounding it can be punishing.

It was to be expected, really.  It's not the cutting edge of saddle technology, after all. 

Bea's saddle finally cracked.

Seppuku.

 She's had good innings, but it's time to cut her loose. 

When you're hard-on things, it's good to choose quality replacements. And when you've got a beefy bottom end on an upright bike, well, then you want the widest, springiest, comfiest saddle you can find. 

Your genitals will thank you.

And then you'll want to bind it, to ensure it doesn't wander off. Chains are best. 

Be firm, so that it's secure but be careful that you don't secure it too tight. 

You don't want to damage anything, nor leave any permanent marks.

Before you mount, you'll want to massage a little saddle cream into it.  

Don't be afraid to rub it in till it starts to get hot.

Make sure it's well lubed, and then leave it overnight,

you can wipe off the excess in the morning.

Brooks recommends proofide, 

but when it comes to sticking things between your legs, 

babble prefers all natural Astroglide.

And how can you argue with a saddle that comes with its own tool?

Isn't that handy?  Just crank it up once a month or so to keep your ride from getting all floppy and limp.

It's saddle Viagra.

Ladies- get a wrench for your man - he'll be the torque of the town.

Just kidding.  To use a wrench like that on him you'd have to be nuts.

You must always be true to yourself, 

but don't be afraid to experience de seat.

And you're not alone, either.  

It doesn't matter what kind of seat you have,
 you're always going to get it in the end,.``

I'm looking forward to getting intimate with this saddle, to giving it all I've got.  

I'll be spending a good many hours turning its contours into my own
as I explore every nook and cranny of this lovely town.
I hope you'll join me, and then if I babble at you as I hop on,
 it will be the sermon as I mount! 

Speaking of sermons, you know I never mean to rail on,

but did you hear what Cadillac Fairview did?  

They ticketed Molly Millar when she tried to park her bike in the rack at work, and they threatened to remove her bike if she parks there again.  They imposed a fifteen minute time limit if you want to park at that particular rack. Ms Millar didn't like that much, so she went to them and said "WTF?!?" As you would. You won't believe their reply:

"We do like to encourage cycling to work and our tenants to think about being 'green'...but we also need to maintain the professional image of the building," said the response from the property company.

Have you ever noticed how effectively the word 'but' negates the phrase before it?  Remarkable, isn't it?  

BUT "your bike isn't professional enough."  Ouch.  That hurts.

I like to think I'm professional.

I'm an upstanding citizen. I look presentable when I ride, and I always wear a helmet and safety shoes.

So what happens if I park at the Cadillac Fairview building and begrime the neighbourhood for more than fifteen minutes?  Will I get a ticket, too? Will they nick my bike for parking in a bike rack? What if I have an appointment in the building and it takes a couple of hours, what do I do then?  Is there metered parking hiding down the street and around the corner somewhere for us less-than-professional bike schleps?

And now I'm back where I started, with an itch, a burning, tingling, urgent desire... only this time it's a need, and it's bigger than me. We all have a moral obligation to challenge ignorance and wilful discrimination where ever it exists, and man oh man does it exist here.  Beware, ye cultural dinosaurs:  a babbling brook may seem simple and ineffectual, a chattering stream of little matter, but water erodes stone, just as these words will join the growing stream of consciousness and eventually their consequence will  EAT YOU UP, swallow you whole, and spit out all of your outdated nonsense. 

That's it.  Time to whip some dumb-ass.