On the Rim with Randy

I was warned, clearly. When I lifted the bike off its hook in the basement and plopped it down on the floor, I could tell the rear tire was low. Not flat, you understand, just low. Maybe around 50 psi. Rather than take the time to change the tube, I just pumped it up to 120 and headed out onto the streets that were still damp from the scattered light rain that's still lingering over the city. The wet streets alone were enough to tilt the odds against me, but hey, the air was warm, the sun was about up, and I was being optimistic. We had a nice steady ride this morning, hardly ever cracking 25 mph. On the way out to the turnaround I found myself on Clayton's wheel who I hadn't seen in quite a while. When certain guys start showing up for the training rides, it's a sure sign of spring! I spent a lot of time riding about a bike length behind. Something about Clayton's riding makes me nervous. So anyway, I had forgotten all about that low tire until we were about half-way back. The bike felt sluggish and I figured that rear tire had already lost some air. By the time we came around the curve at the Country Club, I could feel some real mushiness in the rear wheel and I started wondering if I'd make it home. Then, about a mile before getting back to the playground we had to slow down a lot for a truck crossing over the levee and so I stood up and did a little bounce to see how bad it really was. I felt the rim hit the ground and knew I was going to have to deal with it. Luckily, Jeff had his car, and his floor pump, at the playground, so I stopped in there and pumped the tire back up and made it home fine.

So I thought I was done with that.

On my way to work today I was tooling along happily on the commuter when, just as I started up the Broad St. overpass, the rear tire suddenly went flat. Flat like a pancake. I never carry a spare tube or anything on the commuter since it's only about four miles to work, and once or twice a year this sort of thing happens. As I climbed the overpass on the rim I debated pulling out the cellphone and calling for extraction, but decided I'd just ride the last couple of miles on the rim, at least as long as the tire stayed more or less where it belonged. Sometimes the tube starts to bunch up inside the tire and then one of the tire beads pops off the rim and you end up walking. Looking down I could see the side of the road littered with roofing nails, which is a pretty common sight around here lately. Good chance there's one stuck in my tire right now. So anyway I squirmed my way the last couple of miles to the office at about walking speed. At least it didn't rain on me!