Saturday, September 1, 2012

Guess that's a hint, then.

This morning, I decided to be industrious, so I hopped on Gary and headed out to do hill repeats. Four blocks from the house, my front tire went flat.

I walked back to the house, figuring I'd use the floor pump instead of a $3 Co2 cartridge.  That's when the tire itself decided to act up. It's not dry rotted, it's not split, there's nothing wrong with it other than it just will NOT come off the rim.

I'm normally really good at changing bike tires. I can whip those suckers off in record time, but this morning I couldn't get the tire over the lip of the rim no matter what I did.

After about , I just gave up and figured I'd try it another time, so instead of some leg-burning hill repeats I ran errands on the commuter instead - which is when I noticed that the commuter needs new brake pads.

It needs a tune-up too, so I guess I'm bike-store bound. Maybe I'll bring Gary's front wheel in and see if the mechanic there has better luck.

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