Joey rides rain or shine.

Dear Diver,

The Iron Horse is a few days away and already my backside is dreading it. Each year, it seems no matter how many hours I spend in the saddle tanning my hide, so to speak, it ends up like mincemeat. I’ve tried everything – chamois butter, baby powder, vaseline, Goldbond, even a double-wrap of Fruit of the Looms. All to no avail. Please, Diver, how to keep my chassis well-lubed to Silvertown?

– Chafed and confused

Dearest Chafed,

You’ve been going about this all wrong. This whole time you’ve been adding layers to your backside, when the answer is subtracting layers. Let’s face it, the typical roadie Lycra superhero suit only looks good on the exceedingly few cyclists that have superhero physiques. Most road riders are just showing off their beer bellies, muffin tops and overly full moons, leaving nothing to the imagination and making the rest of us wish for a mental delete key. Since the standard road costume essentially consists of glorious, neon-colored naked, there should be no problem with you riding just plain old naked, and you won’t have extra layers to chafe your delicate derriere. This will also have the key benefit of keeping any would-be drafters off your tail. Solved!

– Hope it’s not cold on Saturday, The Diver

Dear Diver,

Every year, without fail, I get stuck next to some Chatty Kathy during the Iron Horse. While I’m huffing and puffing my way up Coal Bank, they’re chirping away, oblivious to the fact that I can barely breathe let alone carry on a conversation. How do I let them know I’m not interested in chit chat and just want to get the pain and suffering over without coming off as an A-hole?

– Breathless in Bayfield

Dear Breathless,

It is uncommon for me to use the same solution twice in one bout of problem-solving, but sometimes you can’t argue with genius! Please see the previous advice generously given to Chafed. This solution will, guaranteed, solve your problem equally as well. Although that Chatty Kathy may be able to see yours, you won’t come across as an A-hole, just as a nutjob (so to speak, if you’re male). But at least you’ll be able to suffer alone, enjoying solitude previously unheard of in a pack of a thousand riders. You’re absolutely welcome.

– Still wishing you warm weather, The Diver

Dear Diver,

I know the moisture is great and all, but I think I am starting to suffer from the Portlandia Syndrome – you know, depression, dark thoughts, no desire to bathe, lots of time at the microbrewey. I even see the slightest hint of a handlebar mustache on my upper lip. Are man capris and sucking on bone marrow far behind?

– Desperately Seeking Sunshine

Dear Not-So-Sunny,

As the Diver, I like to believe I have a great command of cultures and traditions around the world. Unfortunately, you are creating cracks in the wall of my knowledge. What on God’s green (increasingly, hereabouts) earth are you talking about when you say “sucking on bone marrow?” This is highly disturbing, and not just because I have no idea what you’re talking about. Much of what you’ve written – no desire to bathe, microbrewery, cheesy mustache – is simply Durango. But I can’t get over this bone marrow thing. What is the world coming to? You need help that is beyond my power to provide.

– Next you’ll be starting a feminist bookstore, The Diver