Pilen Lyx: the Pragmatic Romantic

Earlier this summer, I had a Pilen Lyx lady's bicycle in my possession for over a month, on loan from the US distributor BoxCycles. During this time I got to know the bicycle fairly well, and it is one of the more unusual classic bikes I have ridden so far - with a combination of qualities that makes it difficult to categorise. A city bike and an off-road bike in one, the Pilen is attractive, durable, amazingly stable, and is capable of hauling a great deal of weight.



When the blue Pilenwas delivered to me, I was taken aback by its striking looks. I knew that this bicycle was designed to be practical, not pretty. A Scandinavian friend described its reputation as that of a "tank" - resistant to rust, tolerant of neglect and abuse, and indifferent to getting dropped on the ground or crashed at slow speeds - all around "solid." In a region that is no stranger to heavy-duty bikes, that is quite a statement and it led me to expect a purely no-nonesense machine. But in person the Pilen has a romantic quality to it that transcends the practical aspects.



It is not a quaint bicycle. But it is graceful and evocative. My imagination immediately went into overdrive with daydreams of seaside forest trails and lush meadows under stormy skies - the Pilen gliding through them with a stack of firewood strapped to its rear rack. While in a way such flights of fancy are absurd, I think that a bicycle's ability to inspire is tremendously important, and the Pilen inspires.



Aside from the looks in a general sense, I was impressed with the frame construction. I knew that the frame was TIG-welded (not lugged) steel, so I was not expecting to swoon over it. But as far as welded frames go, this is swoon-worthy. The frame joints are beautiful, with the welding marks nearly invisible - visually on par with custom frames.



The curved seat stays are capped and meet the seat tube in the most elegant manner. No shortcuts, no ugly blobs here. The top of the seat tube has a "collar" that completes the quality feel.



The crisp, lugged fork crown balances out the details at the rear. It is really very nicely done and I prefer a frame like this by far to frames where the main tubes are half-heartedly lugged, with a welded rear triangle or a unicrown fork slapped on.



My one criticism of the frame construction, is that while there are details such as a braze-on for the front wheel stabiliser spring, there are no braze-ons for the shifter cable and it is attached along the down tube with black clips. Why not add a couple of braze-ons here?



The Pilen headbadge: "cycles from Malilla." The word pilen means "arrow" in Swedish. The bicycles are designed and assembled in-house, with the frames built in Taiwan to their specifications.



Pilen bicycles come equipped with Brooks B66 saddles (B66S for the lady's frame) in a selection of colours. Frame colour can also be selected - the other options being black, dark green and dark red.



Rubber grips and a Pilen-branded bell. You have to spin the bell to ring it, which can work nicely for those whole finger hurts from trigger-style bells.



The version of the Lyx I had was equipped with a 3-speed Shimano coaster brake hub with a twist shifter. Other possibilities are available, including hand-operated brakes and 8-speed hubs. The bicycle comes with a dynamo hub-powered headlight, which can be attached either below the stem or on the side, via a braze-on on the fork - depending on whether you plan to attach a basket. When the headlight it attached below the stem, the wire is contained within a long spring that attaches to a braze-on on the fork. I have never seen this method before and spent a lot of time examining the spring.



The tail light is battery powered - as is increasingly the trend with many European bicycles that previously used dynamo-powered lighting front and rear. I think the trend is an unfortunate one, and wish the Pilen had a dynamo-powered tail light.



The tires are 700C x 48mm Schwalbe Big Apples, black with reflective sidewalls.



One feature that gives the Pilen its distinct look is the custom rear rack. It is beautifully made, with hand-painted insignia, and is unusually large.



For reference, this is a large pizza box (17"x17").



Jammed under the saddle and held in place with a rat-trap spring. Yup, that's all it takes to transport a pizza on this bike.



This is the only rack I've seen with not one but two rat-trap springs, and they came in handy when devising creative ways to carry shopping bags. I have also attached stacks of large, heavy boxes to the rack with bungee cords, and it hardly flinched. The platform is so wide, that the packages stay very stable. The one downside of a rack like this, however, is that the tubing is too thick for pannier systems that attach via hooks. Ortlieb, R&K, Fastrider and Basil hooks will not fit around it. Only a system such as the one Po Campo uses (shown above and reviewed here) will work with the Pilen rack.



An optional front rack is also available with the Pilen (shown and reviewed here), but I opted not to install it. This front rack felt excessively heavy, and at 47lb the bicycle was already borderline too much for me to handle without it. I was also told that installing the front rack scratches up the head tube and headbadge, so all in all it did not seem appealing. For all of my needs (workbag, grocery shopping, and the occasional transport of boxes and bulky packages) the huge rear rack was sufficient.



While in possession of the Pilen, I went back and forth between riding it and my mid-'90s Gazelle, marveling at the differences between them despite their superficial similarities. While my Gazelle is a prototypically hardy Dutch bike, it seemed almost flimsy in comparison to the Pilen's visibly thicker tubing, wider tires, and overall "heavier set" looks. The Gazelle's rear rack looked downright scrawny next to the Pilen's mighty platform, and the Gazelle's handling at slow speeds was like that of a drunker sailor compared to the Pilen's unwavering stability. On the other hand, the Pilen was slower to accelerate and more effortful to push for me than my old Gazelle - an experience that seems to be a factor of my size and weight, as described here.



Compared to traditional Dutch bikes or English Roadsters, the SwedishPilen's geometry is not quite as relaxed, and its handlebars are considerably less swept back - positioning the cyclist's hands almost straight in front of them, mountain bike-style. This makes the handling both more controlled and livelier, with the cyclist's weight more evenly distributed between the front and rear of the bike. While I like the lower positioning of the handlebars, I would prefer it if they had more sweep to them - but this is a matter of personal preference.

The thing that impressed me the most about the Pilen's ride quality, is its stability. When starting and stopping, itfeels extremely sturdy and safe. I wrote earlier about all the different things people mean when they describe a bicycle as "stable," and the Pilen is pretty much all of them. It does not want to go down, no matter what - a factor that can be especially important to novices who are worried about faltering at intersections in traffic.



I also soon discovered that the Pilen handled excellently on a variety of off-road surfaces: grass, dirt, gravel paths, even narrow trails with roots and rocks. This is a very fun and safe bicycle to ride off pavement.



All in all, I have probably ridden about 100 miles on the Pilen - most of it in the form of short (< 5 mile) trips. The longest I have ridden it in the course of a single ride is 20 miles. Initially I was reluctant to take a longer trip on this bike, because of how relatively effortful it felt to accelerate. But in the course of the longer ride it "blossomed" and we developed a flow that made it faster and easier than I expected. The bike also did surprisingly well on hills, particularly if given a chance to pick up speed beforehand.



The more experience I gained with the Pilen over time, the less certain I became about how to define or explain it. A classic "swan" frame reminiscent of vintage bicycles, it really handles more like a contemporary mountain bike with upright positioning. The on/off road handling can be especially useful for those who regularly travel through pothole-ridden neighbourhoods, or for those who have access to off road trails for commuting. For those who enjoy touring on an upright bike, the Pilencould be a good candidate as well.



The one size only 56cm lady's frame is best suited for taller women, which is good news for those who have been unable to find step-through frames in larger sizes. Theheavy-duty tubing and wheels are designed for carrying serious weight, which is great for heavier riders and for those regularly traveling with the bike fully loaded. No bicycle is for everyone, but I think the Pilen fills a niche that needed filling: It is a hard-core, elegant transport bike whose mountain bike-ish handling should be inherently familiar to a North American cyclist. Though I would have liked to see a full chaincase, dressguards and a dynamo-powered tail light on thePilen, it is otherwise fully equipped for daily transportation.Having housed it outdoors for the duration of my guardianship, I can attest to the bike'sresistance to the elements and its general durability: There is not a scratch on the powdercoat and the components are free of rust.

Last month I hosted a contest to give away the Pilen to one of my readers, and the winner should be receiving the bicycle shortly. I wonder what she will think of it, and how her impressions will compare to my pragmatic and romantic musings. Many thanks once again to Will of BoxCycles for the opportunity to get to know this bicycle, and for so generously donating it to be given away.

Climbing at Rogers Rock: Little Finger (5.5)

(Photo: View of Rogers Rock from Lake George.)



I have long dreamt of rock climbing in the Adirondacks.



But until recently I could never work it out to climb up there at all. It has always seemed impractical. It is too far for a day trip from NYC. And when I get the opportunity for several days of climbing in a row, I always end up picking more glamorous destinations that are further away, like Red Rocks.



This summer, however, I finally got my chance.



My wife's good friend Greg has owned a house on Lake George for the past few years, and we planned a weekend in early July when my family could visit his family there.



As we prepared for this visit, I tried to sell Greg on the idea of climbing with me up the classic 500 foot, three-pitch route Little Finger (5.5), which ascends Rogers Slide, the slabby east face of Rogers Rock. The route would be easy for us both, I told him.



I was really psyched about climbing in such a beautiful setting, on a cliff that rises straight out of the lake. Another bonus is that the route requires an approach by boat. I knew that Greg owns a small motorboat so I thought this would be easy for us to manage as well. I figured it would be a quick ride to the cliff from his house near Bolton's Landing. We could tie up the boat, run up the route, and be be back before our wives and children even noticed we were gone.



Over the months during which I've been proposing this little adventure, Greg has made supportive noises, but I wasn't sure he was entirely serious about doing the climb with me until just before our visit. I told Greg I had a harness, a helmet and a belay device for him, but that if we were going to do the climb he'd need to get some climbing shoes. I was thrilled when he actually went to Paragon and bought a pair of La Sportivas. I could hardly believe it. We were really in business.



Now as you may have gathered, Greg is not a climber, although he has worn a harness before, and has even belayed a few times in a gym setting with an ATC. Prior to our day on Rogers Rock he'd never climbed outside.



When I talked up the climb to Greg, I always emphasized how safe we'd be. I told him he'd always be on toprope, and that I'd build super-safe anchors for us. I also told him that this climb was very easy and that there was basically no way that I would call upon him to catch me falling on it.



I said these things because I wanted him to feel like doing this route with me would be a safe, reasonable thing to do. So I had a selfish interest in saying them: I wanted Greg to agree to do the climb. But I wasn't trying to sell Greg a bill of goods. I really did believe the climb would be easy for us. It is 5.5, after all.



The only hint of concern I had at the back of my mind as I reassured Greg was that Rogers Rock features slab climbing, which is not my strong suit. I have very little experience in slab and I don't feel very secure in the discipline. But the guidebook says that Little Finger is not typical of the slab routes on Rogers Slide, in that it follows a vertical crack which provides great pro and positive holds.



With that information I felt fine about our prospects.



When our weekend visit arrived, it looked like we were going to have perfect conditions. It was rainy towards the end of the week but the forecast was good for both Saturday and Sunday. I proposed that we climb on Sunday so as to have the best chance for dry rock; also we could plan out our logistics on Saturday and prepare. The day before the climb I had Greg try on my spare harness, and I gave him a quick primer on making sure the harness was doubled back. Then I gave him a refresher on belaying with the ATC and told him the few things he'd have to remember on the climb:



1. Feed me enough rope-- do not pull me off of the rock!



2. Never let go of the brake strand.



3. Do not take me off the belay until I say "off belay."



4. DO NOT DROP YOUR ATC!!



After just a little practice I felt like we were good to go.





(Photo: approaching Rogers Rock by boat in the early morning)



We got an early start on Sunday, leaving the Bolton's Landing area by 6:30 a.m. I wanted to get there early to make sure we were the first party on the wall, and to ensure we didn't take up too much of the day.



There was a slight wrinkle that arose from the fact that I know nothing about boats.



I was assuming Greg and I would just park the motorboat somehow and leave it at the base of Rogers Rock. It turns out that this is impractical. Typically people approach by canoe or rowboat and pull the boat up onto the small bit of land that sits at the base of the cliff. Greg's motorboat is too heavy for that, and apparently-- who knew??-- if there is no place to moor the boat it can't just be left unattended at the base. So Greg's wife Peggy had to get up early to drive us in the boat to the rock. (Sorry, Peggy.)



We left our return plan tentative. Luckily there is pretty good (Verizon) cell phone coverage at Rogers Rock. We decided we'd call Peggy later and tell her whether we were going to rappel (meaning we'd need a pick-up by boat) or top out and walk around to the campground (requiring pick-up by car). Greg and Peggy had both heard from locals that people usually top out and walk off after climbing Rogers Rock. Greg preferred the idea of walking off to rappelling, but I was skeptical that topping out would be practical from Little Finger. This idea about walking off was just one of several things they had heard from neighbors about climbing on Rogers Rock, and I didn't have to climb on the rock to know some of the other things they'd heard were false. For instance, they had also been told that the whole route is protected by fixed pitons, a notion I knew to be ridiculous.



I read in the guidebook that the original Little Finger route had gone all the way up, and I saw from the topo that some other less-frequently climbed routes on Rogers Slide do actually top out. But I also knew that Little Finger as it is now typically done stops after three pitches, well short of the top. It is unmarked in the guidebook past the rap anchor atop pitch three. I told Greg that if I saw an obvious scramble to the top I was all for it, but I suspected we'd be rapping off.



The water was calm as we approached Rogers Rock and we had no trouble jumping out of the boat and onto the rocks at the base with my big backpack. I quickly got my rack and ropes out and tossed my pack back into the boat. ("You have to bring all that crap with you?" Peggy asked.) And then, after a tiny bit of engine trouble, Peggy motored away and we were alone at the base of the cliff.





(Photo: My inexperienced but totally trustworthy partner Greg. Reader, I belayed him.)



The start of Little Finger is easy to find. A little to the right of center of the huge slab, the unmistakable vertical crack of Little Finger seems to rise forever. As I stood there beneath it, the angle seemed reasonable and the crack looked very positive. I was very excited to get going. (Peggy later said that in the boat I'd seemed like "a kid in a candy store.")





(Photo: Trying to look heroic at the base of the climb. You can see the vertical crack of Little Finger rising just to my left.)



The first pitch is only 5.4. It is long, though: 180 feet. The guidebook claims, accurately, that after some early difficulties, the angle and the climbing ease as you head up to the anchor.



As I ascended the early bits, I felt a little tentative. A number of things were roaming around in my brain.



I didn't want to burden Greg with too much gear removal, so I tried to limit the amount of pro that I placed, and I avoided placing many nuts. It killed me to eschew the nuts, since the route follows a vertical crack. So I had to place a few. This climb eats nuts! But I tried my best to avoid it. And since I was placing mostly cams, I had to run it out a bit in order to conserve them, which made even easy moves seem serious.



Also, the fall I'd taken just the previous Tuesday on Ground Control (5.9) in the Gunks couldn't help but enter my mind. My confidence was a little shaken, and the two fingers I'd sprained on my right hand were still rather swollen. I tried not to use them. On such easy climbing it was usually no problem, but it still required some mental effort.



Finally, I don't think I was climbing the route terribly well. I'm sure I could have pasted one foot on the slab at all times and comfortably walked up the stupid thing. Instead, since even easy slab climbing scares the crap out of me, I basically crack-climbed it, keeping my hands and feet in the crack almost all the time. This forced my body into positions that, while secure, were likely more awkward than necessary.



Eventually, I just admitted to myself I was a little nervous, stopped and placed a cam, and rested. Then I got over it, resumed climbing, and everything was fine.





(Photo: Looking down pitch one of Little Finger (5.5).)



As I neared the first belay station, at a slightly lower-angled scoop in the rock, I began to really enjoy the climb and the beautiful surroundings. The rock was good and the view was spectacular. There was pro available in the vertical crack pretty much whenever I might want it. The day was pleasant, sunny and not too hot.



I reached the belay and found a fixed cordelette tied to a nut and a couple pitons. I used this station as one leg of a three-piece anchor, adding two cams of my own to make the anchor crazy-solid.



"Greg," I shouted. "I'm off belay."



I watched as Greg took the ropes out of his ATC.



Then he violated rule number 4.



"Uh oh, I dropped the ATC!"



Oh crap.



I envisioned bringing him up and having to give him my device, and then belaying him with a Munter hitch for the rest of the climb. Then I'd have to take the device back, lower him off from the top of the climb, and rap down to him...



"Can you reach it?" I asked. "Did it go in the lake?"



"It didn't go in the lake, but I can't reach it."



We had only about ten feet of rope left to play with, and it wasn't enough for him to walk down to where the ATC was sitting. I had tied Greg in; he didn't know how to tie a rewoven figure eight knot for himself. I didn't see a safe way for him to escape the system and retrieve the device. I was about to tell him to just forget about the device when he came up with the obvious solution.



"I'm going to get out of the harness for a sec and go grab it."



This was perfect. He knew how to double his harness back; he'd done it himself already before we got started. I knew I could trust him to do it right.



Once he got the device and put his harness back on, he did fine. He climbed the pitch and removed all the gear, looking for all the world like someone with much more experience. No falls or hangs.



Pitch two was shorter, 140 feet, with a 5.5 bulge not far off the anchor. Probably I was just more relaxed, but this pitch seemed easier than the first one to me, and Greg felt the same way. I even busted out a few slab moves on this pitch. The early bulge was easily surmounted and then lower-angled climbing led to a small stance below a roof, where there is no fixed gear. I built a three-piece gear anchor in a couple good cracks.





(Photo: Looking down pitch two of Little Finger (5.5).)



Again Greg had no trouble following the pitch or cleaning my gear.



As he followed pitch two I looked at the pitch three alternatives. The usual finish to the climb heads right from the second belay, continuing to follow the vertical crack, diagonally avoiding the roof, and then heading up to the finish. It is another long pitch of 5.5, 180 feet.



The original finish heads straight up over the roof instead of heading right. It is a more difficult alternative, rated 5.7+. The guidebook describes this as the best pitch on Rogers Slide, and says it is well-protected. Once over the roof the pitch heads straight up and eventually moves right to the same finishing anchor employed by the 5.5 finish.



I was aware that some leaders will place a piece at the overhang as a "French free" alternative for partners who are not up to free-climbing the overhang. The second can then pull on the gear to get through the crux. I felt sure we'd have no problem with the roof pitch, but I decided not to push Greg. He was doing very well, and seemed to be hiding any fear he was feeling, but I wanted him to finish the day with an air of accomplishment, not failure. 500 feet of 5.5 was probably a big enough test for him today.





(Photo: View of Lake George from the top of pitch two of Little Finger (5.5).)



So I told Greg I thought we should just do the 5.5 regular finish, and he seemed relieved.



It turned out that the first part of the third pitch, even when you go the easier 5.5 way, is still the crux of the whole route. There is a traverse on good but slabby feet (the mental crux) and then a couple steep steps up (the physical crux) before the angle eases again, leading to cruiser climbing to the finish.



There isn't too much gear for the traverse, but I tried to place as much as I could. I warned Greg about the swing potential. There is bomber gear before you move much sideways (I think I placed two pieces after I left the belay), and then it is a couple steps to the end of the overhang on the right before you get anything again. Before moving upwards through the physical crux moves you can get a great cam over your head. After those moves it is an enjoyable romp up the rest of the way to the bolted final anchor.



I could tell as I was doing the crux moves that this part of the climb might be tough for Greg, so I tried to talk to him about exactly what I was doing as I did it, and pointed out some of the holds I was using.



Once I reached the anchor I could no longer see Greg down below the roof, so I could only cross my fingers and wait. As he began the pitch I breathed easier with each inch of rope I pulled in. After a couple minutes he shouted up that he thought he might fall, but as I looked down I was relieved. I could see his hand, which meant he'd cleared the traverse, so even if he fell there wouldn't be any dangerous swinging. He'd fall a foot or two at most.



And as it turned out he didn't fall. He managed to pull through the crux and finish the climb without a single fall or hang. And, even more amazing to me, we didn't leave any stuck gear. Greg was a great partner. I'd take him along again on a climb in a heartbeat.





(Photo: rapping off.)



From the bolts atop pitch three I could tell there was no easy way to the summit. Up above was a big overhang. It wasn't too far to a bushy gully on the right end of the slab, but it did not appear to me that there was a trail over there.



Once Greg joined me at the anchor, however, I thought it was worth a look, so I had him put me back on belay and I went right to the gully just to check it out. I found a lot of loose rock on the little ledges heading over to the gully. And once at the gully I saw that it is very steep with enormous exposure. It would not be at all difficult to slip and fall hundreds of feet. With no obvious trail to the summit in sight, I went back to the belay and told Greg I thought we should call the wives and tell them to pick us up by boat. We would be rapping off.



And even though rappelling wasn't Greg's first choice, I think it was the much more convenient escape, and a much sexier one besides. Three double-rope raps to the lakefront and a waiting motorboat? That is some serious James Bond action! It sure beats a slog down a long, hot trail to a parking lot.



Later that day at Greg's local beach on the lake, his neighbors seemed shocked and delighted that we'd actually climbed Rogers Rock just like we said we would. Greg too seemed to have had a positive experience. I don't think Greg's climbing shoes will be seeing too much more use, however. He repeatedly described the climb as something he's really happy to be able to say he did once, and only once.



I told him our next target should be Deer Leap, another cliff on Lake George that the guidebook authors describe as the "biggest chosspile in the Adirondacks." With an endorsement like that, how can we resist?

California :: Moving On

My stay with Kathryn Doyle was a very pleasant and much needed “break” and I am indebted to her and her husband for their hospitality. I was also able to finally view the television series “American Faces” and “Who Do You Think You Are?” and thought that they were both well done and quite interesting. Thank you very much, Kathryn!

Leaving Oakland, I took the much despised Interstates south, heading for a rendezvous with my friends Sue and Fred at the Grand Canyon. Sue also happens to be my 3rd cousin once removed. Her great-grandfather, Luther Marion Joslin (1852-1930) was a brother of my great-great-grandmother Malissa Mariah Joslin Brubaker Bower (1849-1937). They were the children of Lysander and Lydia Robison Joslin. Sue's uncle, Irwin Joslin, was the first to make contact with our branch of the family (in 1968).

I allowed several days for the drive from Oakland to the Grand Canyon – it was much further than I had thought, about 850 miles. I didn't make any sightseeing stops along the way except for a slight detour to the Antelope Valley Poppy Preserve, however I didn't take the time to walk any of the trails. It was almost impossible to get a good close-up shot of the poppies because of the wind, but they were absolutely gorgeous!






Photographs taken on April 8, ...

First real day on ice

Sunday we spent the day at our favorite ice playground. We were joined by Dr. Bob, Regina, Felipe, Chip and several others. The weather was reasonable holding at about 10 degrees with some snow showers throughout the day.

Everyone eyeing the conditions

Routes are coming in nicely, but most big lines need a little more time. The crew decided to drop top ropes on G-Gully WI4+, Final Obligation WI5 and Son of Beast WI5+. Everyone enjoyed pumping out and running laps on the early season, steep, candlesticked lines.



While the others rigged ropes, etc. Laura and I started our season with Called on account of security WI4. Its currently in very nice condition and but took mostly short screws. This year, there's even some ice at the start making it easier than its usual rock start. Here are a few photos that I took of Laura on our first ice route of /11. We both enjoyed the line very much. Apparently Laura really had fun as she was giggling and smiling as she reached the anchors.

From the belay, Laura coming up Called on account of security WI4

Further up the route - Called on account of Security WI4

Final lip of Called on account of Security WI4

By next weekend we should have some really steep filled in lines. We all had a blast despite Felipe's tooth incident. Good Luck on your climbing trip to Thailand Felipe. Hope your tooth is OK. See you when you get back.

Review of Three Wool Cycling Jerseys: Ibex, Icebreaker and Swobo

I started buying wool cycling clothing last summer and I now own three bicycle jerseys. What I like about cycling jerseys - as opposed to regular t-shirts - is that they are well-ventilated, elongated in the back (good for a leaned-forward posture), and have built-in pockets, making them convenient to wear on a roadbike. Here are some details about the three I own:



The first wool cycling jersey I bought is this one by Swobo. I heard good things about these and they were on clearance. The entire line is now discontinued, which means that you can find these jerseys on sale at various online outlet stores. The colour of mine is "tree mud."



TheSwobojersey is styled like a vintage cycling jersey in everything from overall design to texture, featuring a classic front zip collar and side panels.



Medium-lenght polo-style short sleeves.

The wool is on the thick side. It is much softer than vintage wools, but similarly bulky. This makes the Swobojersey not the most flattering on female bodies - especially in the tummy and upper arm areas. It is cut with practicality in mind.

The back of the Swobois long and features two very deep pockets, each large enough to fit things like a camera, wallet, phone, sandwich or apple.

I wore this jersey frequently during our stay on Cape Cod last September, and it is especially good for cooler weather and for cycling in the wind with occasional rain. A durable and practical jersey, but not the most flattering or lightweight fabric.

After the Swobo, I purchased this GT jersey by Icebreaker. I wanted a lighter-weight alternative for warmer weather, and was also hoping for a more flattering fit. The Icebreakeris great on both accounts. This is a "multi-sport" model and I bought the previous season's version, on clearance from an online reseller (forgot which one). The current production model is styled a little differently, but it's same general idea.

The wool fabric is almost gauze-thin and 4% lycra, which makes it stretchy. The result is supremely flattering.

This might be hard to see, but there are panels made of a perforated fabric that run along the back and sides of the jersey. These provide great ventilation and contribute to the flattering styling. The back is quite long, and the stretchiness keeps it from riding up.

Mock turtleneck collar, reflective zipper, perforated panel under the chest, and elongated short sleeves that can be pushed up or pulled down.

The one flaw of the Icebreaker jersey is the pocket. Because it is not a cycling-specific garment per se, the pocket is on the side. This works so-so in a leaned forward position, but is not ideal because whatever you put in it will add more weight to one part of your body than the other and will pull forward. If you're carrying just a credit card, bills, or folded-up directions then it does not matter, but heavier things like keys or a phone may pull uncomfortably on a bike with dropbars.

I wore the Icebreaker jersey a lot at the end of last summer, and am starting to wear it again now that it's getting warmer. With all the perforated vents and the long zipper, it keeps me extremely cool.

My latest wool jersey is from Ibex, received as part of an equal-value trade directly from the manufacturer. Last summer I bought a pair of Ibex woolcycling knickers (shown in all the pictures here) and I love them so much that I was happy to get anything else Ibexmakes. The Indie Mountain jersey did not disappoint. It is flattering and lightweight, and while Icebreakerachieves its flattering look via adding lycra for stretch, Ibexdoes it via careful tailoring.

The elaborate multi-panel construction is almost architectural. It cinches the jersey at the waist, expands it over the chest, and drapes it over the tummy in a way that hides the treacherous folds that can form there.

The elegant Mandarin collar makes the jersey look almost dressy.

The short sleeves are finished so that they are loose around the upper arm, as opposed to cutting into it. This is more flattering than typical cycling jersey sleeve designs, especially for those of us who do not have upper arms of steel.

The one thing I could do without on the Ibexjersey is the cherry blossom/ crane rendering. It's just too girly for me, and I also think that it makes what is otherwise a subtle Asian theme way too explicit. This jersey is beautifully styled; it didn't need cranes and flowers.

The rear pocket is on the small side, but fits my smaller camera and zips up, so no complaints.Overall, this is a versatile jersey good for both warmer and cooler weather, and I've been wearing it more than my other two since I began cycling this season. (Ibex: Could you make just some plain versions without the drawings, please?)

The three jerseys described here are very different from one another, and I think either could be a good choice depending on the cyclist's needs. Several serious local cyclists I know swear by the Swobo jerseys, but I am not in love with the bulkiness. Icebreaker's performance range is paper-thin, flattering, and offers excellent temperature control - but consider a cycling-specific design instead of multi-sport if you don't like the side pocket, and notice that some of the models are made with a touch of lycra. With its impressive tailoring and soft, thin 100% wool fabric, Ibex would be my perfect jersey - were it not for that drawing on the back. Hopefully this was a useful comparison, and I'd love to hear which wool cycling jerseys you've tried and what you thought - especially the ladies, as there seem to be far fewer choices for us in that regard.