This has been a bad month for bicycling. I don’t have a lot of good memories of bicycling because things go wrong fairly often. Since I have gotten my bike, I’ve done about 1060km.
The last time I went bicycling, I think I over pressured the tires. They were fine for the ride, but the next day it looks like my front tire had gotten ripped apart.
So a few weeks ago, we went to a specialty bike and purchased a new tire and inner tube. It was a good quality tire and we paid for the place to install it. We then took the bike to some friends. From there we went on a nice bike ride through the bayou valley. We stopped about ten kilometers in and took a break to talk. It was then they I noticed my front tire was looking dangerously flat. It was decided that everyone else would ride back and I would wait for them to rescue me.
I did walk a bit, going to a water fountain. There was also a bicycle repair station where a bunch of tools were available to people who needed help. It, of course, had been vandalized and all the tools were gone.
I was able to walk to another bike shop, which of course was closed on a Sunday. I waited there, and called my original bike store and found out that they would be able to repair the bike if I brought it in. I was eventually rescued, but too late to go back to the bike shop. This puts my statistics at three flats and a broken derailleur in the time I’ve had my bike. So I’m averaging 265km between issues that decommission my bike.
The next week, we went back to the original bike store and got them to fix it. They found a hole in the inner tube and gave me a new one. We then went on another bike ride. This time five kilometers in, I noticed that my front tire was getting flat again. Fortunately it was earlier in the day, and I was only 2.5km away from the bike shop. Unfortunately I was wearing clipped shoes, so I was not especially mobile. I figured it would be easier to walk barefoot than to damage my shoes. The walk wasn’t too bad, but the pavement was hot in some spots, especially the railroad tracks. There was only one area with broken glass that I think I navigated well enough.
When I arrived, my feet were black from dirt. They looked over my bike tire and found three holes in it. One guy was saying that someone else came in earlier with the same issue; I pointed out that that was me.
Last Sunday we decided to ride again. This time I was going to bring a repair kit and a pump. That should prevent any issues, right?
Actually that Sunday was what I consider my triathlon day. I ran to downtown Houston, where my bike is located at our friend’s place. From there we went on a bike ride, with a stop off for lunch. Afterwards we reconvened at out house to swim in the pool. Run, bike, swim: triathlon. Wrong order, but still good.