I was cruising on the way home tonight. It's rarely been easier - breathing evenly, spinning comfortably, and chugging along apace. I was flashing by more worthy riders like I was some well-trained pedal-pumping machine (which I'm not, incidentally).
But it couldn't last. I haven't had a punctured tyre in years. Really. I'm not kidding - I can't clearly remember when I had my last flat. Oh, I remember where it happened - I even remember that it was late on a very cold, very wet evening. But I honestly can't remember the year. It was probably 2004. Anyway, it's been awhile. Maybe I was due.
Anyway, as I take the right hander the sweeps away from the Hawthorn velodrome I feel a distinct lack of firmness at the rear end. I jump off and I can hear the air hissing out. Bugger. Oh well, at least the hockey field provides me with excellent work light.
Quickly fire off an SMS to MLSP warning of delay then get down to work.
First problem
Who the hell tightened this quick-release lever last? Oh. Me. What was I thinking? A bit of grunting and swearing and it comes loose with a jerk. Without even damaging any knuckles. Wow.
Note to self: that lever doesn't need to be quite so tight.
Second problem
Delve into the tool bag. One tyre lever. Hmm. Spare cables, inner tube, chain tool, screwdrivers, patch kit … but only one tyre lever. Bugger. Oh well, shove it in and go for it. Eventually the tyre pops off.
Carefully remove tyre so that I can poke around for the offending bit of debris. I've learned the hard way that it's almost always lodged there in the tyre, just waiting to puncture your replacement tube. Find the hole and the rice grain sized bit of glass - remove and chuck it away. Slowly and methodically work fingers around the inside of the tyre: don't want any other nasty surprises.
Third problem
Drag out spare tube, whack the pump on and give it a blow to check that it's OK. Air comes hissing out from a hole right by the valve stem. Bugger. Oh well, will just have to patch it. Take the pump off and air comes gushing out of the valve stem: no valve in place. Hmm. Patch kit has several valves but no valve tool to be found anywhere. Better be patching the original tyre then.
Fourth problem
While the rubber cement is drying on the patch, I check the phone to see what smart remarks MLSP has made. No response. Check messages: previous one not sent. Clouds part - I've used all my phone credit. Bugger. Better get moving. There's a servo up on Toorak Rd where I'll be able to use a public phone and put a compressor on the tyre. Pump in just enough air to keep the rim off the ground and get moving.
Looks like I'll be missing Mythbusters tonight. Never mind, probably a repeat anyway. [It wasn't. Bugger.]
The phone call
<Ring, Ring>
"Hello?"
"Hello, it's me."
"Yes?"
Funny how a partner can load one word with so much seething anger that only a nearest-and-dearest could appreciate. I explain myself and all's forgiven. Promise that I won't be long. Acquire a chocolate bar from the bloke at the counter then go in search of the air compressor.
Fifth problem
In their wisdom, the service station doesn't leave the pump attachment on the hose. You have to go and ask for it and "ID will be required". Can I be bothered? And will they even give it to a mere cyclist anyway? Oh bugger it, I'll just take it easy on the way home.
The peak of commuter time has long passed by now, so I'm on my own with the peacefully still (and mercifully not cold) night. Taking it easy and thinking my thoughts. All's well with the world again.
Sixth problem
Until I get to Dorothy Laver Reserve and the sweeping right hander just at the end of the sports ground. Pass a jogger coming the other way, tinkle the bell because it's a blind corner. No one ther…slip, swerve, crash. Splat myself right in the middle of the trail. Bugger.
Groan. Ah. The phone is out of credit - can't ring home for help and they'll just assume I'm struggling on with my puncture. No search party likely for hours yet.
Look around - did the jogger come back to see what happened? Nope. What's the point of having an embarrassing stack like that if there's no one there to see it?
Hmm, hand hurts a bit. No make that a lot. Jolted the old shoulder wound. A few other scrapes and future bruises but otherwise all in one piece.
Recovery
Pick up bike. Moment of trepidation - anything bent? Chain's fallen orf but apart from that nothing wonky. Stagger over to the lights by the tennis club and get the chain reinstated. Inspect self and discover that the right hand, while not broken, isn't going to be able to operate the front brake. This should be interesting.
Struggle aching body back onto my trusty mount and head off. Are you supposed to ride a bike when you're still in mild shock? Previous experience tells me, yes - get going before things really start to hurt. Not really wise, but I'd rather do my serious pain at home.
Wobble out onto Dunlop Rd and back onto the trail. Trundle my way home gingerly.
Non-consolation prize
Coming around the big bend in the golf course I catch a pair of eyes in my head lamp. Wow, will I get to spot some cute little critter so I can claim a minor consolation prize? "Sure I had a bingle but I did get so see a … fox." After my evening of misadventure, what's my bonus nature experience? A bloody fox. That goes with the tone of the evening - just some stinking vermin.
The rest of the ride passes uneventfully with dark thoughts about what's the "third thing" that's going to go wrong for me tonight. Can I count the fox sighting as a "third thing" or should I expect some other minor inconvenience some time soon?
Of course I don't believe any of that crap, but I did take extra care at the traffic lights - on a night like this it would've been just my luck to get cleaned-up by some P-plater running the red light.
Final score
- Two sprained fingers, various small cuts and scrapes, and a bruise on the thigh.
- Bragging rights over the Co-Pilot, who was very impressed with my bloodied hands and muddied shoulders.
- One spare tube still in need of repair
- One missing tyre lever and one missing valve tool need to be found and replaced in the tool bag.
And the big lesson of the evening: when the recorded message on your phone says "You have one minute left for this call" it's time to recharge your credit!
I'd better fix that first thing in the morning - possibly on the way down to the train station, because I don't think this hand is going to be operating a brake lever again for a day or two.
Bugger.
Yep - Bugger!!! Funny how stuff always happens like that - lots of little factors that all add together and make for a rather un-fun evening. IF you hadn't had the puncture... IF you had phone credit... IF you had tyre levers... etc etc etc.
Bad luck mate!! ;)
Luxury!!
Three punctures in one day was my recent record! Used the spare tube and all of the remaining patches in my repair kit to get home. I also ran out of phone credit - fortunately managed to put a call in to the boss before the credit ran out. But at least I didn't prang my treadly as well.
Hopefully the new set of puncture resistant tyres will improve my fortunes on the bike trails.
cheers & beers
HB
Poor treadly, you have my sympathy. But I'm thinking that after all this you'll still be on that bike as fast as you can :)
Comments
Oh dear. You have my sympathy. Last November I had three punctures in a week. It was awful!!