A popular pastime amongst recent visitors to the RCUK newsdesk has been to rap sharply with the knuckles the top of my new Gilles Berthoud leather saddle to elicit a satisfyingly hard and hollow sound. The timbre matches precisely the sensation gained by pressing the saddle, the two combining to convince the rapper that riding the saddle for more than a mile must be an act of folly.

In fact, just a couple of hundred miles in and Gilles is already beginning to soften up and take shape. The gently convex arc of the brand-new upper surface, with its threat of pressure on the wrong part of the perineum, has inverted near the mid-point just as the two areas pressed when riding by the sit bones are beginning to become pliant without yet appearing indented.

Indeed, so rapid is the breaking-in process of a leather saddle at this early stage in its life that I had to readjust its height several times on one short ride. As the leather begins to soften and sag, the support it offers the rider slumps ever lower to the point where the new owner may feel that the seatpost is sliding down inside the frame. Inspection of a small mark previously left on the post shows that this is not the case and that the saddle has made its first few steps on the long journey to being the acme of comfort .  

Atr the same time, several thousand miles in and the Brooks leather handlebar tape on my 1999 vintage Roberts PBP Special is unlikely ever entirely to take any other shape than the one it has now but, unlike bar tape of any other material, has shrugged off crash damage and the usual wear and tear to acquire a real patina of age and comfort.

While it may not offer quite the prospects of a well-tended leather saddle, it looks good for a few years yet and, while twisted into a shape it will not easily relinquish, will happily come off and go back on the bars should it need to be removed. Expensive? Yes. But only on initial purchase – and the same applies to leather saddles.