The Brooks Swift saddle. This is the version with Titanium rails.

I recently went old-school and purchased a leather saddle – a Brooks Swift Ti saddle. The hope is that it will be the answer to discomfort that’s plagued me when riding all the plastic and foam new-school saddles I’ve tried.

The main argument for leather saddles is that eventually, the leather stretches and gives in just the right areas to conform to your unique anatomy. Most that have tried such saddles say they are ultimately the most comfortable saddles you can own. Some like to say that such saddles “age like a fine wine.”

So is this true? Will my new Brooks saddle age like a fine wine? And how long before that happens? Reading other people’s comments on the web, the break-in period ranges from right away, to 400 miles, to a year, and for some, apparently never.

Recorded below is my experience of having ridden a new Brooks Swift saddle for 500 miles, over the course of one month. In case you’re wondering, no sour grapes so far.

Miles 0-28

The saddle’s maiden voyage:

Time 00:01

Ouch! This saddle is hard as concrete. And that nose feels like a piece of rugged granite.

What my saddles feels like when I first get on. (Photo “borrowed” from the web. Don’t remember where it came from.)

Time 00:02

Hey! This saddle is slippery!

With nothing but smooth leather and remnants of the Brooks Proofide conditioner that I applied the day before, I’m sliding all over the place.

Time 00:15

Stay away from the nose, bud! How many times do I have to tell you?

Time 01:00

Getting used to the slipperiness. And am thinking this is going to be a good thing. I feel no pinching or catching or chafing issues whatsoever. Admittedly, I am only one minute into the ride. Ha-ha!

Time 10:00

Interesting. Saddle is mellowing a bit. There is a place where my sit bones can sit with relative comfort – amazing since I’ve only been riding for ten minutes. Maybe this saddle is breaking in a lot sooner than people say.

Or maybe, my body is learning very quickly where not to sit, and is avoiding those places like the plague …

My legs feel cramped. Really need to move the saddle back a bunch.

And I keep creeping up onto the nose. That’s not a good thing! Ow, mommy!

Time 45:00 (after ten miles)

Wow. I forgot for a moment I’m riding a new saddle. Maybe there is hope.

But now that I’m paying attention, perhaps I spoke to soon about this saddle getting more comfortable. It’s true, I don’t have any of the weird sit bone to saddle interface issues that plagued me all spring and summer, but “the boys” aren’t any too happy.

And I have way too much pressure on my hands. Need to rotate saddle up.

But that might mean more pressure on “the boys.”

Will there be a happy compromise?

I glide back into my home driveway, after 28 miles. In some ways, the new saddle is already more comfortable than the old – at least for my sit bones. But for the rest of my anatomy? Eh, not so much. I’m glad to be off the bike.

I spend some time dialing in the position. I end up moving the saddle all the way to the back.

I’m out of rail.

Saddle back as far as it will go. A whole lot of cantilevering goin’ on, there bud!

I was afraid of this, due to numerous comments on the web about these old-school saddles on new-school bikes. In the olden days, most bikes had relaxed seat post angles — which meant the seat/post connection was further back — in comparison to modern race bikes which have steeper angles. The upshot is that with the Brooks saddles, you may not be able to move the seat back far enough before running out of rail. That’s certainly my situation.

(Note: I bought the Swift model over the Team Pro, because, supposedly, the Swift has longer rails. I don’t know whether that’s true or not.)

I adjust the height and rotation of the saddle, trying to find that sweet spot of comfort. I’m not too successful, but I do notice that all it takes is mere millimeters and just a degree or two of rotation to feel significant differences.

I learned a long time ago that it takes surprisingly little in the way of saddle adjustment to reap major benefits on how a bike feels, but on these Brooks saddles, that effect is magnified.

In the end, I decide where the seat is now is maybe as far back as I’ll need it. It’s not that far off. But I keep wondering what it would be like if I were able to sit back further. That’s where my bottom wants to go. If I put it there now, I’m riding on the huge copper rivets on the back. That can’t be good.

I do more research. I discover that my Bontrager seat post has 20 mm of offset. I discover that finding seat posts with more offset than this is difficult. There are few models to choose from. Some have 25 mm offset. Fewer still have 30 mm of offset. All told, that’s only 5-10 mm difference from what I have now. Would that be enough? Hard to say, but then again, mere millimeters can make all the difference in the world.

Perhaps it’s best not to spend more money on a new seat post just yet. Maybe it’s better to let the saddle break in before jumping to any conclusions.

Miles 29-78

A few days later I go out for a 50 mile ride up the hills of Via Linda in northeast Scottsdale. Saddle feels good at first, and then, not so good. After 20 miles, it settles down and feels okay, though I have to keep shifting on my seat constantly in order to relieve pressure.

After 40 miles? Not so hot.

After 50 miles? I’m ready to be off the bike.

Miles 79-110

I go for a short 32 mile ride. Saddle is so-so. I feel promise with this saddle, but it’s got a long ways to go before being entirely comfortable. It’s also clear I need to do more dialing in of the position. I decide to leave it alone and let stretching leather take its course.

Miles 111-136

It’s my first group training ride on the new saddle, a brisk 26 miler with the TriScottsdale group through Paradise Valley. I’m using different shorts today, ones with more padding – and gel at that.

I’m not all than enamored with gel padding. It feels better at first, but in the long run, I find it is not. But I figure it’s worth experimenting with different materials just to see what happens.

I notice, while climbing Hummingbird hill, that this saddle feels good when I pedal upwards. But pedaling feels awkward – more evidence I haven’t got the position right.

My legs are sore the next day, especially the muscles just above the back of knee – a telltale sign that the seat is too high. I adjust it down a millimeter and go for a short test ride. Big difference!

Miles 137-164

An easy spinning 28 mile ride. Saddle is feeling better everyday, but I wouldn’t call it a paragon of comfort just yet.

My hands are feeling too much pressure while riding, and same muscles in the back of the knees are sore afterwards. I rotate the saddle up another degree and adjust the height down another millimeter. I go for short ride around the block. Again, big difference on how the saddle feels with these minute adjustments.

This Bontrager seat post has markings making it easy to tell how far you’ve actually rotated the saddle.

Interestingly, I’ve had absolutely no saddle soreness afterwards on any of the rides so far. None whatsoever. I realize now that my old saddle always caused issues with pinching and chafing. That’s all gone.

Miles 165-207

I go for a 43 mile ride with friends up into the hills of Via Linda. Saddle feels good on the climbs. I can hunker down and spin with no discomfort at all. I haven’t been able to do that in a long time. I can spin with efficiency too – evidence that maybe I’ve dialed in the seat height.

But I can’t ride comfortably in the drops. I would need to rotate the saddle down to do that – which would result in more weight on the hands. What to do? Best I can think of is to leave things alone and let the saddle break in further.

Though the saddle feels decent after 20 miles, by the 40 mile mark – not so much.

However, a correct saddle height is confirmed afterwards when I have no soreness behind my knees.

Miles 208-270

I go for a metric century ride (100 kilometers, or 62.5 miles) down to Gilbert and back, all by me lonesomes. Saddle does not feel all that good at the beginning, but by 20 miles, it’s feeling comfy.

So comfy, that as I’m spinning eastward through the streets of Mesa, I start having thoughts about riding further east, all the way to Tortilla Flats. This would make a trip of over 100 miles for the day. And why not? The weather’s great. It’s sunny, 75 degrees, and only a light wind.

But I don’t go further east. I turn south and stick to my pre-planned route.

It’s a good thing, too.

By 40 miles, that comfy saddle feeling turns into “meh.” Discouraging thoughts roll through me, as I realize this Brooks saddle now feels a lot like the Fizik Aliante saddle I rode years ago: Comfy for sit bones, but not so much for the nether regions – and with a narrow range of places to sit. It feels almost like sitting in a hammock or cradle. While that old saddle had some good qualities, I did ultimately move away from it, and have no desire to go back to the way it felt. Did I make a mistake buying the Brooks?

By 50 miles, I want off the bike. And I’m glad to see the driveway of home after 62 miles.

But again, absolutely no “saddle soreness” afterwards. I can’t tell in the slightest that I rode 100 kilometers.

Miles 271-318

I go for another 48 mile ride up the hills of Via Linda with friends. It’s chilly (45 degrees) – time to get out the tights. The saddle feels very nice at first. Is it that extra millimeter or two of padding from the tights?

But later, one of the other riders makes a comment to me, after I’ve taken a pull for a few miles, that I’m hard to draft behind because of my erratic pedaling.

I’m pedaling erratically due to having to coast and shift in my seat every ten seconds or so, to relieve pressure.

I sure wish I could move the seat back further. That’s where my bottom wants to go.

Miles 319-400

A long ride today, 82 miles in all, 70 of those on the McDowell Mountain Century ride. (I did the metric version.) Saddle was okay – better than on last weeks metric century, and I did manage to up the ante to 82 miles.

No consequences afterwards for having upped the miles.

Miles 401-474

Two more rides of 33 and 41 miles. On the last ride, there are moments when the saddle feels like “a pillow.” Is it finally breaking in?

Hmmm. Now that I’m looking at it, no wonder my saddle feels like a pillow. Ha!

Miles 475-496

Saddle feels good from start to finish for the first time. Admittedly, I only rode 21 miles.

Miles 497-555

A nice Thanksgiving day romp covering 58 miles. Though I can’t tell by looking at the saddle (they say you’ll start to see dimples where your sit bones go – and yes, that earlier picture was a joke), I think the saddle has broken in. Felt like a pillow for first half of the ride, and only the slightest discomfort towards the end. Still need to do some fine tuning in order to ride in the drops comfortably, but even that is improving.

So far, I’ve never had any soreness afterwards on any of my rides. That’s encouraging.

Conclusion

I suspect this saddle will continue to get better. Will it age like a fine wine? Who’s to say. But one thing is for sure, it appears it’ll never leave a bitter aftertaste.