Issue #14: The Road Less Traveled

To chamois or not to chamois?

By Zachary Morvant

A quick disclaimer: while we’ve placed this story under our “Safety” column, it’s a bit more about health (which is arguably related). That said, none of this is medical advice — simply an exploration of two different approaches to comfort and longevity on the bike. I’m not a doctor. Nor am I a lawyer. I’m not quite sure why I’m here, to be honest. (Editor’s note: Because Zach’s spent too much time on the saddle learning tough lessons about what that can do to an underside.) Anyway, enjoy!

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To chamois, or not to chamois, that is the question: whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous saddle sores, or to take arms against a sea of friction, and by opposing, end them?

Thank you, I’ll see myself out.

For those of us who regularly don lycra and perch on carbon-railed saddles, there seems to be little debate: when you’re training or racing, you wear bibs or shorts that have an integrated chamois pad. However, as someone who’s gone down the rabbit hole of bikepack and ultra distance racing, it’s hard to ignore the “no chamois, no problems” camp. While intrigued by their arguments, I’ll admit I haven’t given it a try. Perhaps I’m stuck in my ways. (Or I hate the feeling of my leg warmers slipping off.)

Let’s take a look at the reasons why cyclists wear a chamois in the first place — and then explore the path less padded. But first, a quick etymol­ogy lesson, because I thought it was interesting.

Why’s it called a chamois, anyway?

If my internet research is to be believed (no, I didn’t entrust AI with this task), cyclists in the early 1900s needed an additional layer of protection when riding on hard saddles. The solution was using leather made from the chamois, a species of goat-antelope native to the mountainous regions of Europe and Western Asia. Leather pads were stitched into their wool shorts et voila! The chamois pad was born.

Sometimes comfort equals performance. Photo: Jeff Vander Strucken.

Why should we wear one, and how do they work?

One might quickly ascribe this to the many other seemingly inane traditions cyclists follow. Which, fair; there are plenty of those. Yet the primary reasons to pad up are very real: preventing friction and chafing, managing moisture, and relieving pressure.

Friction is reduced by the chamois’s soft, seamless construction. The tightness of the attached shorts keeps the pad and fabric from moving around too much, minimizing the tiny movements that can cause chafing and saddle sores.

Moisture is managed by the ability of the chamois material to wick perspiration away from the skin. Additionally, modern pads have antimicrobial treatments to prevent bacterial buildup — crucial to preventing game-ending saddle sores and skin infections over long rides.

Pressure relief is perhaps the most obvious benefit of a good chamois. A well-made one is thin but dense in all the right spots, directly supporting one’s sit bones (or “ischial tuberosities” if you want to dazzle your friends with anatomical lingo).

Despite all the claims about chamois pads, they’re not a silver bullet for everyone. Many riders (myself included) also find the need to regularly apply chamois cream (and perhaps re-apply mid-ride on a long enough day) to prevent any painful bumps from developing.

The path less padded

To certain folks in the bikepacking and commuter set, a chamois is more trouble than it’s worth: when you’re riding self-supported for days on end, chamois pads can get gross and be very difficult to clean.

Lael Wilcox — perhaps the world’s most famous self-supported ultra-endurance cyclist — focuses on having a good saddle, good hygiene, and high-quality, seamless wicking underwear. This sentiment has been echoed in articles across the internet.

Saddles are a highly personal thing. If you’ve ever treated yourself to a professional bike fit (which I believe is one of the best investments you can make for both performance and injury prevention), you’ve gotten a taste of just how different everyone’s saddle interface (where your butt meets the seat) can be. Sit bone width, optimal saddle angle, reach, and many other variables come into play when choosing a saddle — so choosing the right one may require some effort and testing. But when you find The One, damn is it a game changer.

Cleanliness is non-negotiable for the chamois-free rider, especially since you’re without the antimicrobial properties of the pad. Wash your underwear and saddle area with soap and water, then let them dry completely, ideally daily on multi-day tours. Some riders also like to use talcum powder or cornstarch before a ride to absorb residual moisture and reduce friction.

On the underwear front (or should I say bottom?) seamless merino wool is highly regarded. It does a great job of managing moisture, dries reasonably fast, and has natural antimicrobial properties. As for what you wear over them? Shorts or pants with gusseted crotches are one way to go, particularly for commuters, since they remove the bulky seam that runs down the middle. Other folks go with mountain bike-style baggy shorts, which are great for breathability. The downside I’ve seen is that they won’t do anything to hold up your leg warmers (if the temperature drops and you throw some on).

Which will you choose?

Frictionless, aerodynamic performance, or robust simplicity and self-reliance? I’ll admit to being intrigued by the latter, but still stuck in my ways of the former (if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, eh?). Maybe as I attempt more multi-day events this year I’ll change my tune. Whichever you choose, may the joy of your ride never be interrupted by the torment of an unwelcome saddle sore.