Ortlieb Mud-Racer saddle bag: a review

I've been using this saddlebag for four or five months, on a road bike. Overall, it's an excellent bag, definitely better than any other saddle bag I've used before. But I was expecting truly great things from Ortlieb, and it let me down. Overall score: 4/5.

If you want deailed specifications, 3D views, etc., go here. I bought mine online, at wiggle.co.uk, I can't remember the price.

I love the looks and overall quality feel. This bag is basically a pod with a semi-hard shell, with two halves joined by a zipper. (Again, look at the pictures.) The upper half is protected by a silicone wrap that covers the zipper. The silicone piece, by the way, is not as shiny in real life as it looks in the pictures.

You will need to attach a plastic piece to the rails of your saddle. The bag comes with another mounting piece, that slides into the saddle piece. A locking mechanism prevents the bag from sliding back a forth. The bag is fairly easy to attach and remove, but that will depend on your saddle. (It's a bit annoying on my Arione, because there's very little space for my finger to push the locking button.) The saddle comes with a strap to tie it around the seatpost, which would prevent the bag from falling off in the event that it became detached from the saddle. (I removed the strap because I refuse to let a lowly velcro strap hug my aristocratic Thomson seatpost. The mounts that attach the bag to the saddle look secure enough and so far have been secure enough.)

Size matters. I own the middle size, which is actually called "small" by Ortlieb. (The smallest one is called "extra small" and the largest one is called "medium." And you thought that Starbucks was the only one trying to confuse you with its sizing...) In this bag I can fit at least: three road tubes, two or three CO2 cartridges, three tire levers, a chain tool, a spoke wrench, a patch kit, and two or three Allen wrenches, and I still have some room for additional things (small things, not a wallet or a thick cell phone, for example). I'm tempted to recommend that you buy the smallest one. But the capacity of that one is 24.4 cubic inches, as opposed to 42.7 for the one I have. Almost twice as much! And the difference in weight is only 30g. So it comes down to whether you mind the bulky appearance of the larger one...

As I said, I like the bag overall, but it has disappointed me in two ways. The biggest letdown is that it is not waterproof, in spite of Ortlieb's claims to the contrary, and the spotless reputation of its commuter bags. I can't figure out where the water gets through, but believe me, it does. On the other hand, I've never had a saddlebag that is completely waterproof, and the Mud-Racer does not perform worse than others. It's just that, if you were expecting to find your tools bone dry and rust-free at the end of a rainy day, forget it, pistolero!

Just recently I became aware of another flaw. The saddle, which had been almost completely silent till now, has started to rattle when I go over rough road. After inspecting it closely, I have discovered that the inner shell of the bag has cracked around one of the bolts that tie it to the mounting piece. The shell is fine around the other two bolts, and it looks impossible that the shell would eventually decouple from the mount and fall off. But, it rattles, and rattling noises from anywhere on a bike are so pedestrian...

A mysterious saddle

Cyclocross is coming, and J and I are busy putting together a machine worthy of this rider. So we're going to Target tonight. No, just kidding. The machine is way too good for me, but isn't that always the case?

I'll give you the full specs and pictures when the bike is all put together, hopefully by the end of July. For now, suffice it to say that the skeleton is made by Dolan. Tati Cycles got one the other day and I must say: the photo does not do justice to this frame. Really bad-ass looking. Just wait till I have it built.

But today I wanted to call your attention to the saddle that I'm putting on this bike. Two numbers: 224g, $29.90. If you're still unimpressed, let me drop a name: WTB Devo.


As you can see in the photo, the sitting portion is almost perfectly flat, and it comes with CrMo rails. It's got very little padding, but the shell flexes quite a bit when I try to bend it with my hands, so it could actually be comfortable. If you want something a bit cushier you should go for the WTB Deva, which has the same shape and construction, but a slightly thicker padding. (Yes, the Deva is meant for women, but I doubt it will make you guys grow boobs or anything.)

For those of you unfamiliar with off-road saddles, the WTB Devo has a great reputation among riders. Currently WTB only makes a version with titanium rails, which tips the scales at just below 200g, and is sold for $120-$150. And yet, somehow, somebody on eBay is selling this saddle for a third or a fourth of the price. So, what gives?

Well, as I said, mine has CrMo rails and it's an out-of-production model. But still, 224g... This thing should be selling for at least $80. One possibility is that it's a copycat. That would explain why you only can buy it on eBay, and only from one seller, who ships from Hong Kong... On the other hand, the item is not available any more... So this could actually be one of the few existing units of the CrMo Devo...

My skeptical self tells me that this is too good to be true, and that a hasty remount will crunch this seat in less than two months. Any bets? Stay tuned.

Elgin road race

What would you call a 25-mile race with countless turns, nary a straight road, a 180-degree turn, two or three chicanes, a fast descent with an off-camber turn, a couple of short and steep hills, mostly through residential streets, on a 5-mile course? Circuit race? Long noodle twisted into itself? I would say "crazy fun." (Think about the twilight crit in Winfield, but with steeper hills and a much, much longer course.)

That was today's Superweek "road race." Eric N. and I drove down to Elgin for the Masters 30+ 4/5 race in the afternoon--great amenities and organization, by the way, as usual in Superweek.

About 1 1/4 laps into the race I got popped off the back of the field. Being all too familiar with this situation, I took a sip of resignation medicine and told myself: "Ok, finish up your noodle and go home." And that I did. As usual, I joined a small group of other laggards, which always makes the penitence easier--in those situations I like to fantasize that I am in a breakaway group, escaping from an imaginary pack barely two corners behind.

The hairy moment of the day came when the pro/cat1 field, which was on the course at the same time, passed my little posse at the worst possible moment: on a fast turn at the bottom of a long hill. Those guys were coming at 1,000mph, and I had to put my foot down and get off the course to avoid a collision. Thought: I don't think that having two races at the same time is safe on such a short course. I'd like to hear what the pros thought.

Overall, though, I'm glad I went because this is a super-course.

"I've done those climbs!!!!" or "Reminiscing"

I was looking at the profile of today's and tomorrow's stages and I just noticed that I have actually done two of the climbs that the TdF riders are doing.

The first one is listed as "côte de Montserrat" and it is just 20km from my house in Terrassa. I've done that climb dozens and dozens of times, although the Tour probably skipped the topmost 1.5km to take the road that continues north towards the Pyrenees. As a cat4, according to the Tour, it barely registers in the profile of the stage, but I guarantee you that it can be damned hard. My best time on that climb is just below 25 minutes (over 8.5km) and I typically use a 39x16 to 39x21 during most of the climb, with a 39x25 for a short wall near the top. I bet those guys did it in 15 minutes and in the big ring...



The second one is tomorrow's first climb, up the Envalira. I've done this monster only once, in the course of a 100-mile ride in the mountains two or three years ago. It's classified as a cat1 and it's the longest mountain pass I've ever done: 24km of climbing is a lot of climbing in one sitting... That was a truly epic ride the day I did it. It started with rain, all the way from the start of the ride to the base of the climb, in Andorra. Then at the top of the Envalira, the wind was so strong that it ripped off some traffic signs. I swear I saw one flying over my head as I started the descent...

Ahhhh, so many memories...

Report from Whitewater road race

Less than one lap to go. Loren, Rory and myself on a neat single file, powering up the hill. Nobody in sight in front of them; a couple of soon-to-be corpses hanging in the back. Atop the hill, the coroner signs the death certificates, and it's just the orange clockwork in its finest hour! The three Tatitos take turns pulling, share their water, and work together as an army of one towards the finish line. And indeed they stay away and cross the line! Not holding hands (my teammate Jesse wouldn't approve), but one after the other, very far ahead the nearest competitor. What a wonderful sight!

This actually happened this Saturday at the race. The only detail is that the three musketeers were, errr, off the back.

How it unfolded

This was a 40-mile road race. Seven laps on a course with rolling hills, a bigger hill and a fast descent. I think I started pretty well. I saw three Get a Grip guys at the front at the start line. I thought they might be up to something, so I got myself right behind them, and off we went! The first lap was wonderful: the gag fellows setting the pace and me sitting pretty smug right behind their preppy kits. Life was wonderful back then. I swear I saw unicorns and rainbows and birds chirping...

Then the second time up the bigger hill I get a text message from my legs:

legs: "we cannot do this"
Francisco: "what"
legs: "dude, u r a jerk, u have been abusing us 4 2 long. its over btwn us"

And that was that. To make matters worse, I lost my concentration for a second and I bumped shoulders with somebody. I swerved a little bit and I got yelled at. The next thing I know I see the entire field passing me, with Rory and Loren in it, and the expectation of 5.5 laps of solitary riding. Fortunately, two other fallen riders soon joined me. One was a Pony Shop guy with tattooed calves, and the other one was an MS Project rider who rode... a bit strangely. The two guys had something in common: they were very strong on the flats and rolling hills, but somehow I would beat them on the hill. And it's not because they were big guys or anything. As if gravity had put a spell on them or something.

Anyways. We rode together until some time in lap 5 or 6 when we pick up Loren, who was riding in the privacy of no-man's-land by then. And then inside lap 7 we picked up Rory, who had gotten dropped from the main field in lap 4. At some point we also picked up a tall guy with an unsightly jersey. The rest you already know more or less. Rory, Loren and I dropped the other guys up the last big hill. As we were getting rid of them, it was pretty amusing to hear Loren scream "We got a gap!!! Go! Go!" as if the Tour de France depended on it. I mean, it was amusing considering that all that was at stake was a 20-something placing.

The last half lap, for me, was an encounter with the Spanish Inquisition. Battered. Dehydrated. Hungry, almost bonking. With a headache. My legs had been replaced by mushy noodles, and I grew mortally afraid of a sprint. I really did not have a sprint in me. Not even against my grandmother. I really did not. So I was relieved when we gapped Loren and he yelled: "You guys go! Don't wait!" So I squeezed a pitiful drop of power out of my battered legs, gapped Rory, and kept going till the finish line. Anything but a sprint. Please, God, do not make me sprint today! Rory crossed the line next a few moments later, and then Loren.

Placing: 22, 23 and 24. The results sheet didn't have anyone listed after us, but I swear by Coppi that Mr. MS Project, Mr. Tattoo, and Mr. Ugly Jersey were behind us. WE WERE NOT LAST! WE WERE NOT!!!!!