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So last Sunday I'm on a ride with my 9 yo old daughter with her trailercycle and my rear tire blows out in front of a graveyard eight miles from the car. My daughter, who is terrified of graveyards, calls her mother to come pick us up, but stubborn me wants to walk. Luckily, no one listens to me, because after I had walked about three miles, I realized I had forgotten my keys and wallet back on the bike I had chained to a fence three miles back. Nothing more embarassing than having an estranged spouse have to rescue you in a car while on a bike ride.
So I had to buy two new tires and a new tube, because the tires had dry rotted, causing the blowout. While I was at, I fixed up my kids' bikes, too. Spent about a $100 on tubes, tires, a chain, lube, degreaser, and a water bottle my nine year old just had to have. First ride on my bike after that, the front tire goes flat. Big hole. Another new inner tube. The next day, an inner tube on my older daughter's bike blew out just after I aired it. Another five dollar inner tube.
So today I take my freshly tuned bike out for a spin. Tires are fine, tubes are fine, chain is clean, bearings adjusted--this thing rolls like it did eleven years ago when I bought it. It rolls so well that I decide to attack a couple of the hills around here--I hate hills, and I'm not in shape for them, but I was feeling unusually brash, and worrying about the hurricane has been wearing on me, and you can't beat the views of the hills around Lake Travis.
I regretted this as I was peddling up the first big hill, and even more going down the other side, when my rear inner tube blew out. I was coasting way too fast, regretting not having replaced brake pads while I was at it, when I hit something--either a rock or a hole, I never did see it--and barely kept from going down. Naturally, I was down to one tire patch, and an old pump that took some effort to get working. I patched the one hole I saw, tried to air it up, but I could hear the air wooshing out from somewhere. Sure enough, another hole (snakebite flat, for all you cycle nerds). One patch, two holes--story of my life.
Had to hike back five miles to my apartment (leaving the bike chained to a barbed wire fence behind some weeds), get my car, and retrieve my bike. Oh, the ignominy.
And this is supposed to be getting me in shape! :rofl:
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