Refurbishing Leather Bicycle Saddle.

As more of a "How-To", this post is a bit of a deviation from the usual family update theme of this blog, but oh-well.

It all started when I decided to fix up an old Royce Union 10-speed frame I found with an old leather saddle (similar to a Brook's Saddle, but I'm pretty sure it was some other brand). The leather was badly weathered... This old leather broke the third time I rode it, leaving me without a leather saddle.

New leather bicycle saddles tend to start around $60 (the Brooks Titanium Swallow is $500), and I'm cheap, so I didn't want to spring for a new one. A plastic seat on this bike just didn't look right, so I decided to replace the leather. Here is what I did...




Here's the broken seat.









I pulled the old copper rivets out by unbending their back sides.







This is what the frame looks like without the leather on it. The leather gets stretched from back to front creating a sort of natural 'suspension' system.




Next, cut-out the new piece, using the old as a stencil. After a little investigation, I found that you probably want at least 8 oz. leather (this indicates how thick it is) as a minimum. 10 oz. leather is probably ideal. Most places aren't in the business of selling a single 6" x 12" piece of leather, but if you look around, you should be able to find the right seller, eventually.



Now lay the new leather over the frame and get it into position, making sure it's a good fit. Punch new holes in the leather to align with the holes in the frame (don't worry about prepping the three holes on the little front piece until you have the back part completely finished).






I found these #9 copper rivets at my local hardware store for $.27 each. I got larger washer that would slip all the way down the rivet (the #9 washer is made to stop just a fraction of the way down the tip of the rivet). Push the rivet through the leather & the hole in the metal frame, and then slip the washer on the back side.


Now it's a matter of peening the rivet (no photos for this part!). This just means that you smash the rivet's point with a hammer until it's all mushroomed and disfigured so that it won't & can't slip through the washer again, ever. It's a little tricky to peen the rivets with the seat's rails getting in your way, but you'll find the right combination of tools that were meant for something else, to make it work.



Here is the final result. NOTE: in order to keep the whole seat from flattening like a pancake, I punched a couple of holes in each of the sides and laced them together underneath. This gives the leather much better form & structure.

For more general information on leather bicycle saddles, check out Sheldon Brown's page

Daily Commute

I have been bicycle-commuting for almost half a year*.

My bike of choice...is a brand new Surly Pugsley with a 100mm wide bottom bracket, 135mm rear hub o­n the front wheel, 3.7" Endomorph tires, Truvativ crankset, Avid BB7 disc brakes, a Cobalt headset, and Mallet pedals. That's my bike of choice. Of course, I don't have one. The bike I have (and ride) is an old Trek Multi-Track with a loose headset, that Sally got when she was in Jr. High. I painted over the pink/purple frame and threw some fenders on it. My head light is a Petzel Tikka headlamp, strapped to the handlebars with Velcro. Push its button four times and your on 'blink' mode! The 'saddle' was found in a thrift shop's sporting goods bin, among plastic hockey sticks and old bowling balls.

As tired as it is, for the last six months this bike has faithfully carried me the three miles to work and the three miles home again, each day. Only twice have her tires fail me, on glare ice, sending me 'down'.

Last week was very cold. It may end up being the coldest week of the year. My coldest morning commute was through -33 degree air. That's the actual air temp, the good old mercury - no factoring for the 15+ mph 'wind' I was generating as I rode.

This week has been balmy...well above zero.

I'm not sure why I do it. Some probably suspect I have a D.U.I. and a suspended license (riding, not by choice but by necessity, through Minnesota's winter), so I try to make a point of mentioning to people at work how "I drove to..." here or there over the weekend. I guess the main reason I ride is so that Sally and Arthur are not stranded at home all day. I certainly save gas too, and sometimes I think I save time (St. Cloud's rush hour is horrendous in a car). I also get consistent exercise out of it too. And I always show up to work awake.

- MG

*I drove a motorized 4-wheeled vehicle 4 or 5 times in six months.

"My wife's in labor!"

I had always wanted to be like the men in the movies who, at some urgent point, get to exclaim to a stranger: "...my wife's going into labor!" For Arthur's birth, I got that chance. I wish it had been a cop in his squad car, but it's hard for me to get pulled over on my bicycle.
After that initial adrenaline-jolting phone call with Sally on that fateful morning, I notified my supervisor and quickly tied up all my loose ends at work - ready for a few days off. It had rained that morning, so before slinging my bag and heading out to the bike rack, I had to don my rain gear, barely dry from my commute in just 2 hours previous. Working the bike lock and fastening my front wheel was like playing 'Operation' with sausages for fingers. As soon as I mounted my Bianchi, I knew something was wrong. There was a notable resistance coming from the bike and the back end felt a little 'wobbly'. Sure enough, I had a flat tire. Of all the days! Splashing through downtown's puddles I jogged my bike, holding the saddle as I ran, to the local bike shop a few blocks away. At 11:07am there was no other customer in the store. I was welcomed with
"Hi, how's it goin' today?"
"Well, OK. I have a flat tire...and I'm in a bit of a hurry...my wife's going into labor!"
"Oh boy! Let's get it in this stand-"
He threw it into the stand, clamping it by the seat post as on we chattered. The mechanic was clearly 'frazzled' by this unusual pressure to perform quickly. He shot off a slurry of abbreviated questions - straight to the point:
"How did it go flat? Was it a 'pop' or a slow leak"
I informed him it leaked over the course of 2 hours - the amount of time I'd been at work.
"Are you going to the St. Cloud Hospital?"
I let him know that yes, we were going to go there, but that my wife was at home, which is just over a mile, and I should probably go there first to pick her up.
The mechanic filled my tube with air, gave it about 2 seconds to show any sign of leakage and quickly asked,
"Do you want to try it just like this? Do you think you'll make it?"
I thought so, so I gave him the nod and out my bike came.
Before I knew it I was running red lights in the deserted downtown streets, climbing curbs, and making my usual way through parking lots and alleyways to Broadway, which takes me most of the way home. My whole exchange in the bike shop probably lasted about a minute but I'm sure that mechanic loved that he could tuck that story away in his back pocket for some lull in that evening's conversation with friends. Then again, he still doesn't know if I made it home on that tire or not - maybe he won't be telling anyone.
And that is a little piece of the story of Arthur's birth.