REVIEW: Pearl Izumi Kit Goes From City to Singletrack

A few weeks ago, a special delivery arrived at my front door containing some items from Pearl Izumi. A discerning shopper, I have been carefully evaluating it all ever since. So if you're thinking about updating your cycling wardrobe, I can say with authority that Pearl Izumi is a great place to look. Here's why:

On the "Canyon" Shorts (pictured in "Silt")


Pearl Izumi calls these their "Go anywhere, do anything" shorts and it's true — they're flexible as all get out. On the outside, they look like a nicely fit short that casually goes from commute to trail ride. On the inside, there is a removable chamois-short that makes them oh-so-comfy (it's the same "3D" chamois technology as the Symphony shorts reviewed below, so read on!). But the best part? When it's time for the chamois to hit the laundry pile, I can easily just throw on my Symphony shorts or another chamois-short and keep the outside layer going. This is important stuff because I wear them almost every day, now that there are mountain bike trails between me and the office. I feel a lot better about showing up in this kit rather than full-on spandex. The one thing I would change? A little zipper or velcro on one of the pockets. Then again, the fabric is so soft and silky and hangs so nicely, I'd worry that bulking up the pockets would interfere with a really nice athletic fit. So jury's out on that. (Photo: amazing limited edition graphics on LTD MTB Jersey and adjustable waistband on the Canyon Shorts)

On the LTD MTB Jersey (pictured in "Peacock") 


Besides featuring limited edition graphics, this jersey has a lot going for it. First of all, full-zip. Yes. All jerseys should be full zip IMHO. Next it's got a great lightweight feel to it, and the waist is free-moving enough that it doesn't get bunched up around your middle. It looks great fully-zipped, which is a must during gnat season and hey, it even matches my backpack! (Photo, clockwise from top: Super comfy "3D" technology on the Canyon Shorts chamois liner; Me outside my office, going from singletrack to city ... and back again ... showing off my LTD MTB Jersey and Canyon Shorts; handy snaps to keep the liner and outer-shell of the Canyon shorts moving in sync.)

On the "Symphony" Shorts (in Black and Safety Orange)

The chamois and trim are bright orange, making them easy to spot in an overflowing cycling shorts drawer. Important, because if they're in the clean pile, they're the ones I'm reaching for. I've worn these shorts a lot in the month+ I've had them and the chamois is one of the best I've enjoyed, ever. It's as supple as they day I took them out of the box, and it wicks sweat away as promised so it's very comfortable to ride whether it's 30 minutes to work, or 3 hours out on the trails. The grips on the cuffs are great — I've had grips that actually cut into my leg (you know what i'm talking about) but these ones have nice round grippers (they remind me of the stoppers on cabinet doors to keep them from slamming) that I hardly notice at all while they keep my shorts firmly in place. Although not a functional feature in any way, I love that they're grey on the inside, while black on the outside ... attention to detail is always well-received, and a sign that Pearl Izumi is on it. Length is also good; not too short, not too long. There are a TON Of colourways available too which makes these fun to stock up on.

On the "Transfer Lite Racer-Back Baselayer" (in the picture above ... but you can't see it)

I also picked up a great racer back undershirt for these early season rides that has already come in handy more than once. Sometimes you need that "just enough" layer to keep you going and Pearl's is the most comfy I've tried. The neck even comes up high enough to keep those spring gnats out of your sports bra. And that's a huge plus. (gross. gnats.) And the tail is long enough you don't get mid-section bunching. Very sleek.

So ... if like me, you find yourself in a cycling wardrobe update year, I highly recommend the offerings from Pearl Izumi. You can get it at many fine Toronto retailers or enter your postal code to find a shop near you.

Happy Trails!

$100 for 100km

Paul's Dirty Enduro -- It's officially on my calendar. 100km of singletrack for me, 100 dollars raised for others.

I think it's the 15th time this race has been run, but it's my first time to line up. Here's hoping I can even ride all 100km of singletrack ... in a row.

But if the going gets tough, there are plenty of inspiring things to pull me through. First of all, Paul's story, and the love and support he still inspires today.

Paul was a young man who loved to ride bikes -- mainly in the Ganaraska Forest where this race is being held. According to his friends, he'd gather up fellow-riders and rip the trails all day long. He'd always say, "Let's do 100km!" but they never actually did.

He passed away by taking his own life in 1996. This event is run by his friends and family who come together year after year in his memory. They raise money for the Canadian Mental Health Association, put on a full day of activities and from all accounts, everyone has a good ol' time.

If you want to read more about Paul, his sister wrote a beautiful article in the Globe and Mail you should check out. I posted it below as well.

As for the race, I'm told it's 100km, mainly singletraick, never the same trail twice. I hear there's poison ivy, and its winners are worshipped like royalty. And I'm also looking forward to a promised hot lunch (which will probably be a cold dinner by the time I actually [literally] crawl over the finish line.)

If you want to show your support I'm trying to raise $100 for the event. I gave myself a head start with $20. Link to my fundraising page, follow the directions and be sure to print your tax receipt.

Then wish me luck on the 18th! Oh, and if someone could come and drive me home, that would be awesome ;)
KL

By Mary Lou Archibald

Globe and Mail

Friday, Mar. 12, 2010

My brother’s life is a dirty and exhausting endurance race that never ends, despite the fact he committed suicide 14 years ago today.

Every September since Paul died in 1996 at the age of 34, family, friends, mountain-biking enthusiasts and greenhorns have gathered in the Ganaraska Forest near Peterborough, Ont. We honour Paul’s life, sustain his passion for racing and the Ganaraska trails, and talk about the mystery and heartache of knowing that someone you can’t live without thought you would be better off without them.

On the one hand, Paul Rush was a rough-and-tumble mountain biker who could always be counted on to pull ahead in the home stretch during 24-hour relays with his biking buddies. He was a humble and hard-working cyclist, the strong and often silent type with broad shoulders, solid legs and a heart that could climb the steepest hills without missing a beat.

Paul loved to ride the trails, the more offbeat and rugged the better. His dream was to do a 100-kilometre endurance race, not to prove he was better or stronger or faster than anyone, but because it was a new challenge and adventure. It was inevitable that the Dirty Enduro race that started because of him includes a 100-kilometre trail that winds in one big loop with a new view at each twist and turn, which is exactly the way Paul would have wanted it.

On the other hand, Paul was a real character with an offbeat sense of humour. He had twinkling Irish eyes that reflected his appreciation for a good time with family and friends. Women loved Paul, not just for his charm and good looks but also for his sensitivity and vulnerability.

He had four older sisters who loved to spoil him, and a couple of girlfriends who probably would have married him in a flash if only he had popped the question. Yet he remained the eternal bachelor. I questioned this many times, and he always told me he was afraid of getting married and having kids because he might screw it up. I should have known this was a sign of his insecurities, but he always said it with a chuckle and such casual flair that I thought he was pulling my leg.

Paul was a big tease with everyone, especially kids. Nieces, nephews and friends’ children could not wait for him to shower them with attention. Young ones and even too-cool tweens would sidle up to the friendly giant, knowing that when the moment was right he would scoop them up and twirl them, bench press them with his big “muskles” or cart them around the block on the back of his bike.

His love and affection were unconditional and unencumbered. You could be yourself with Paul, and no matter how shy or quiet you were, you always knew he had no expectations. And he made a mean pizza from scratch, turning the kitchen into a cheesy disaster area, but the results were mouthwatering and the cleanup with Paul always fun.

Unfortunately, Paul was also a man who lived with the “black dog” of depression for years, a dark secret we live to regret.

Paul was raised in an era when boys were taught to deal with their anger or frustration by scrapping, or shutting up. Going to the doctor was for pregnant women and old people. And talking about it was something you were only allowed to do in the church confessional, to ask forgiveness for feeling this way when you should be grateful you have a roof over your head and food on the table.

So when Paul had thoughts of suicide, and even attempted it unsuccessfully, as we later discovered, he sucked it up because that was what real men did. When he told us that stray dogs were chasing him during his solitary bike rides, little did we know the animals that were really haunting him were in his mind.

Paul lost his job, and he told us it was because his boss was a jerk. He probably was, but what we didn’t see was that Paul’s anxiety, in the days before employee mental health was a sincere consideration, led to behaviour that was typically dealt with by pushing the difficult worker out the door.

In the end, it was not the stray dogs or the tough terrain that took Paul’s life, but his own desperate desire to end his pain.

So every year we gather, and what started with a few close family members and friends and a pot of chili 14 years ago has become a big event with hundreds of riders and volunteers, and more than $17,000 in donations. The funds are used to raise awareness about suicide, especially among young people.

The cause has become a potential source of healing instead of pain. Family and friends would much rather see Paul leading the pack in the 100-kilometre race year after year. Instead, we gather annually to watch others continue the race, and it is a bittersweet ride. Whether they participate for the thrill, or to honour someone who suffers from mental illness or tragically took their own life, the participants at Paul’s Dirty Enduro continue his life journey on his behalf.

Mary Lou Archibald lives in Brantford, Ont.