A Love/Hate Relationship

What is it about me and my new bike? It’s like we have a love/hate relationship! I love the bike, and I’m pretty sure I am faster on it than my road bike. However, my luck with this bike just hasn’t been that great. I distinctly remember being stoked after my first road test; it felt so fast. Second time out it still felt fast, until I crashed and had to come hobbling home. Four weeks later I finally was healthy enough to get back on the road. The ride was fantastic. I was hitting some amazing speeds and the bike felt great. I took a new road to extend my route and ended up going through a short stretch of gravel like shoulder. I remember asking myself if I would know it if I got a flat, then there it was. Pssshh! There was no mistaking the sound, a tire losing all its air, I had a flat.

I flat isn’t a problem for me. I carry a spare tube, CO2 cartridges to inflate the tube, tire tools, everything I figured I would need. Of course it had to be the back tire (nothing is ever easy). I still didn’t panic. I figured it would be better to work the mechanics out now, than under race conditions. I got the wheel off the bike, the tube off the wheel, and when I went to put in the new tube… disaster! The tube I’d brought was for my road bike, and the stem wasn’t long enough for these wheels. It turns out that of the four spare tubes in the garage, I’d grabbed the only one that wouldn’t work!

I still wasn’t concerned because I knew my wife was at home, armed with a map to my location (a recent tactical decision on my part for emergencies just as this), and she could come get me. Bad news, she was at home watching her beloved Cowboys in the playoffs. The only way I was going to get her out of the house before the game was over was if it was a blow out. Good news, the Vikings were spanking the Cowboys, and she was relieved to have an excuse to miss the ending.

We went over the directions, told her what to bring me, and she was off. We need to work on our communication as it took several attempts for her to successfully make it out of the house. At first she was just going to bring a spare tube and the pump. Then I got to looking for where the flat was and discovered a cut in the tire itself. I could have used a dollar bill to cover the hole so I could finish my ride. But the risk just wasn’t worth the reward. She grabbed my bike rack, picked me up, and I called it a day. It was probably an hour from the time of my first call, and when I was picked up, then another 45 minutes to get home.

That’s the mess of it all, but this story has a silver lining. When I got home I looked at my speedometer and I’d ridden at least 1+ mph faster than on my road bike! I knew this bike felt fast. Now I just need to work on the rider, and some better luck!