*Bike nerd alert*

From what I’ve been reading, handlebar comfort for the touring sect is as important as a comfortable hiking shoe for the backpacker. I’m pretty sure this is true. I do know from riding around town, once I hit the 40-mile mark the neck and upper back pain set in and then get progressively worse with each mile. It’s like clockwork. I don’t even need a cycling computer; I can gage my mileage from the level of neck pain. The pain was partly due to the slightly undersized geometry of my Bianchi (my Butt Ugly Single Speed which I have recently retired) and partly due to the positioning of my hands. I only know this because when sitting up and riding without hands the pain was greatly relieved. Thus began a handlebar quest; not unlike the many other quests, i.e. my famous chainring quest.

So this is where I’m going to get some flak from the racers and tourists out there and that’s okay, I feel good about it: after a year of switching from drop bars to flat bars to bullhorns to strange bendy anatomic craziness, I realized that the uninterrupted 40-mile stretches where few and far between and so my priorities changed a bit. I was getting more adapted to riding in the city and found that if you want to go fast in New York City you need to be able to get between and around traffic with confidence and an even greater commitment. So out came the hacksaw.

These were the bars that I had used for the last two years or so, cut down from an unusual type of road flat bars.

The reasoning behind the hack-job is that the width of the handlebars is the same as the width of your shoulders, which are roughly the same as the distance between your peddles outside edge. This allows you to fit into some tight spots, such as between a bus and a panel truck. Also your ability to negotiate a path between two very close objects at high speed is greatly enhanced when it is your body that needs to fit and not your bike. I know it sounds crazy but somehow my brain is faster at processing something like, “You know what, dude, our legs are not going to fit between those two cars,” rather than, “You know what, dude, those handlebars are not going to fit between those two cars.” Trust me, my brain completely ignored quite a few rearview mirrors when I had normal handlebars.

Now wait! Hold on there, you crazy kids. Don’t run out and cut your bars just yet (and for god’s sake, please don’t jump on your bike and ride down the middle of Sixth Avenue) there are some disadvantages with the short bars. First of all, if you find yourself dancing on the pedals more often then not, well then the short bars are not for you. You can’t get any leverage on these things while standing up and riding. Second, if you’re covering some distance everyday during your urban commute, then drop that hacksaw and step away. On long rides the lack of hand positions will ultimately drive you insane. Which brings me back to the whole point of this entry. Choosing the perfect fully loaded touring handlebars.

Nitto Trekking (Butterfly) Bars

Many hand positions, almost too many for me. I’m a minimalist… sort of.

Nitto Moustache Bars

Quite a few positions only not the right ones for me. Considered maybe putting them on backwards although not sure where to put the brake levers.

Nitto Bullhorns

I’ve had great success with bullhorns in the past. They are also great for climbing. This is a pretty standard bullhorn bend and I may want a few more position possibilities.

Nitto Drop Bullhorns

Now we’re talkin’. The only concern is, again, the brake levers.

You may notice that there are no drop bars listed. Drop bars have never really worked for me. However, I think I’ll start with the drop bullhorns and perhaps work my way back.