Thanks to a last minute cracked fork on my recumbent, I rode almost 100km on a mountain bike with knobby tyres this weekend while Ms Canada and I stayed at Meeniyan with friends.
As a result, parts of my anatomy that are really only of fleeting interest to doctors making prostate examinations* are complaining even as I write. Why people put up with normal bicycle saddles I do not know. Most of the time I was able to find a position that resulted only in severe discomfort rather than actual pain – but only most. I ended up raiding a dumpster in Leongatha and swathing the seat in carpet underlay.
(* the alternate title for this post was to have been “cracked fork leads to forked crack”, but that is just smutty.)
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