Of course I was going to ‘barchive about something else today, but I had a minor mountain biking adventure and I just absolutely had to share it and stash it in the archive. Especially with this picture. Can you see that? The nail actually went through twice?
Life is an adventure. Make sure you take pictures.
Here’s how it went down: So I was just doing my usual morning commute. It’s only three miles from home to work. It actually takes me the same amount of time to ride as it does to drive, because of traffic lights and other obstacles to driving. I love the Earth too, so I prefer riding. Aside from all that peace, love, and hippie-grease stuff, riding is good exercise and it keeps me ready for the really hard trails in the mountains. The day I got the nail I was going really fast, partly because I could, and partly because I was listening to The Cult “New York City”. The song was propelling me, you could say. I was riding on the side of the road, and since I had The Cult turned way up, I couldn’t hear the puncture, or any sort of pop! I did feel it though. It felt like a budduh-budduh—you know? So I looked down at it, and I said, “What? How?” ’cause I really didn’t understand what I was seeing or how it happened.
It’s not a good idea to ride on a flat, so I hopped off right away. There was a nice stretch of grass with some trees, and I found some shade there. It was my back tire, so I did the complicated puzzle of getting the tire out of the rear frame and the chain, plopped my tire down on the grass, and…took the picture, of course. I wasn’t going to pull that nail ’til I had some bragging evidence.
Then came the fun part. Two nail-sized holes meant two full-size patches. (I use the Park Tool Super Patch, plug, plug, hyperlink. Parktool.com) While I was in there I noticed a couple of old patches that I couldn’t remember putting on the tube, so I just went all patch-liberal on it and covered everything—just in case. How long exactly does the Park Tool Super Patch keep me riding? Forever, apparently. I was carrying my travel pump, so it took one hundred and seventy pumps before there was enough air to ride again. Then I was back on the road again.
All in all, it wasn’t tragic. It was fun, actually.
And I was only three minutes late.