Issue with Saddle and Shorts
05-03-05 | 04:08 PM
#1
Thread Starter
"I love lamp"
Joined: May 2004
Posts: 427
Likes: 0
From: Dirty Jersey
Bikes: 06 Fuji Track with upgrades, 06 Redline Flight Monocog, 01 Trek XO1, 2003 Cervelo P3, 2006 Bianchi San Jose monstercross
Issue with Saddle and Shorts
Ok so I figured I'd post this here as I am know many of you ride around in street clothes. Ok so I did a 47 mile ride on Sunday, threw a pair of bike shorts on then threw some cargo shorts on over them. I get home and find my rear covered in black marks. I washed and the black marks didn't come out. I am using a Selle Italia Turbo by the way. I am pretty annoyed because I love this saddle and I like wearing cargo shorts when riding so I can carry stuff in them. Anyone else ever experience this?
Thanks,
Scott
PS. I know I am opening up myself up to be the butt of some jokes (look I even made the first one).
Thanks,
Scott
PS. I know I am opening up myself up to be the butt of some jokes (look I even made the first one).
05-03-05 | 04:31 PM
#4
hang up your boots
Joined: Aug 2004
Posts: 1,574
Likes: 0
From: San Francisco
Bikes: 84 Pinarello, Trek Liquid 30, Torker CX 24, Gromada Track
Cut back on this stuff:
Black licorice
Blueberries
Iron supplements
Lead
Bismuth (Pepto-bismol)
Black licorice
Blueberries
Iron supplements
Lead
Bismuth (Pepto-bismol)
05-03-05 | 04:35 PM
#5
How old is that saddle? Have you treated it with anything? I had an old Turbo that I "rejuvenated" with some rather heavy doses of Neatsfoot Oil. The result was a tendency for the saddle to leach.
I finally wound up giving it a couple good scrubbings with Simply Green and topped it off with a good waxing.
I finally wound up giving it a couple good scrubbings with Simply Green and topped it off with a good waxing.
__________________
This is Africa, 1943. War spits out its violence overhead and the sandy graveyard swallows it up. Her name is King Nine, B-25, medium bomber, Twelfth Air Force. On a hot, still morning she took off from Tunisia to bomb the southern tip of Italy. An errant piece of flak tore a hole in a wing tank and, like a wounded bird, this is where she landed, not to return on this day, or any other day.
This is Africa, 1943. War spits out its violence overhead and the sandy graveyard swallows it up. Her name is King Nine, B-25, medium bomber, Twelfth Air Force. On a hot, still morning she took off from Tunisia to bomb the southern tip of Italy. An errant piece of flak tore a hole in a wing tank and, like a wounded bird, this is where she landed, not to return on this day, or any other day.
