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Flattus
interruptus
I’ve
probably been on two dozen big rides since I started road cycling a few years
ago. Not once, on any of those, did I sustain a flat tire. I’ve come upon a
bunch of people suffering them, even stopped to help a few, but never had one
myself. That all changed in this year’s Tour of Richmond.
Later
start means cooler riding conditions
With
the UCI World Cycling Championships
taking place in late September, the Tour of
Richmond was pushed back two weeks later than its traditional start on the
first Saturday in October. I was thankful for that! The last couple of years
have provided rather warm afternoons (mid-90s, one year) and no one enjoyed
riding into a hot headwind.
Gone but not forgotten! |
In
addition to cooler temps, I was also backing off my normal distance. I’ve
ridden the century route the last 3 years and was planning to do the same when
I signed up in May. Unfortunately, work and life got in my way creating a great
deal of travel sans bike and this put my mileage way down compared to the last
three years. I typically have 1,500 miles in by the time this ride rolls
around. This year, I hadn’t even cracked 1,000.
In
addition, I was traveling the week before the ride and not arriving home until
after midnight on Friday. With a 7:30 am start for the century, and having to
drive 40 minutes to get there and check in, I didn’t see my making 100 miles on
3 hours of sleep. Instead, I changed my entry to the 60 mile course, a metric
century and with a 9:30 start time I figured I’d be fine.
Training?
We don’t need no stinking training!
With
so few miles this year, I figured I’d better get out the prior weekend for some
rides just to be sure I could manage. On Saturday, I drove down to the new
Capital
Trail in downtown Richmond. It officially opened a week earlier and
provides us with a paved, multi-use path from Richmond to Jamestown (the
original capital of the Commonwealth) a distance of 52 miles. It is a beautiful
ride, with gently rolling hills, lovely trees, some water views, and a
spectacular view of the Richmond skyline on your way back into town. My plan
was to ride for45-50 miles and see how I felt.
Finally a reality! |
The
ride was uneventful and provided me with the chance to look at the trail, check
out the various parts of it, and get some miles on my legs. It was also a
lovely day and I felt so great I managed almost 50 miles and felt great when I
finished. I figured the Tour would be fairly easy for me.
On
Monday, MB (who has “retired” and is doing volunteer work these days) and I
rode down to Trail for a about a 90 minute ride. I used it to loosen my legs up
from Saturday’s ride and it was another lovely day. It also put me in a proper
frame of mind for having to get on a plane that afternoon and fly halfway
across the country for the week.
After
the ride, we loaded the bikes up and headed home. I hung them both in our
storage shed after giving them a quick wipe down and headed off to work.
Off
to the Ride
My
flight home on Friday night was not only on time, it was early by about 20 minutes.
(This is so rare, you can’t even imagine.) I considered this a good omen for
the next day.
I
got up early Saturday, ate breakfast and dressed with a plan to get to the
start area (Richmond International Raceway) by 8:45 for the 9:30 start.
Bubba's paradise |
When
I went out to grab my bike, I noticed that the rear tire was flat. This isn’t
unusual but it usually takes a few weeks to happen. I grabbed my floor pump and
re-inflated it before carrying it out to the car. I also threw the pump into
the car as a matter of habit; I do that at these big rides just in case someone
needs it.
Loaded
up, I headed to RIR and arrived about 45 minutes prior to the start where I
walked to the registration desk and picked up my number and timing chip. Before
unloading the bike, I pinned the number on my jersey and got dressed for the
cooler weather. The predicted high was 60 for the day and it was starting
around 40 so I donned arm and leg warmers.
I
walked around to the back of the Subaru to get my bike off the rack and
realized the back tire was flat again. I squeezed it with my right hand and
immediately found the problem as a staple that was sticking out of the tire
pierced my thumb, right under the nail. (Pain – high. Blood – flowing nicely.)
I
swore at the pain and the bleeding, and sucked my thumb for a minute to get it
to stop. (Also to stop whimpering.) Once it did, I carefully removed the wheel
and prepared to fix the flat. I have a saddle bag that holds 2 fresh inner
tubes, tire levers, a multi-tool and a CO2 pump along with a frame pump in case
the CO2 runs out. (Floor pump coming in handy; glad I packed it!)
After
identifying where the staple was, I pulled off one side of the tire and removed
the flat tube. I relocated the staple and began to remove it when it broke off
on the outside. I reached inside the tire and felt where it was poking in and
would cause another flat. I needed to remove it but didn’t have a pair of
pliers to do it. Time for creative thinking or, at least, what passes for it
with me.
I
first tried grabbing it with my thumbnail and pulling it out. That resulted in
shredding my thumbnail and restarting the bleeding. Next, I tried pushing it
back out through the tire wall using the fattest thing on the multi-tool but it
kept slipping off. Finally, I took the tire completely off the rim, turned it
inside out, and pulled it out with my teeth.
(Keep
in mind, this is happening in a parking lot with hundreds of other cyclists
watching me as they walk past. How I did all this without swearing a blue streak
is beyond me. I’ve been working to become more accepting and Zen about things
but I desperately wanted to throw the wheel for distance.)
Finally
having removed the offending puncture creator, I ran my hand around the rest of
the tire to ensure there weren’t any others hiding in there. Finding none, I
reinstalled it on the rim and grabbed a fresh tube and shoved it inside the
tire. I grabbed the pump out of the car and began to inflate.
About
20 seconds later, there was a very loud bang. I had managed to let a tiny
little piece of the tube stick out from under the tire and when it pinched
under pressure, it blew. At this point, I just started giggling. I was down to
my last tube and hadn’t even started the ride!
I
quickly pulled the tube, reinstalled the last one, and very carefully inflated
it to the correct pressure checking all the while that I hadn’t set up another
pinch. Finally, I had two tires that could be ridden.
Clean
up and Go!
I
got the wheel back on the bike, reassembled my saddle bag, jumped on the bike
and headed to the registration area where I could wash my hands (and face it
turns out; I had tire marks all over my nose and cheek) before heading to the
starting line.
I
hit the head while I was in there, just to make sure nothing else did me in,
and rode over to the start line, arriving just in time to doff my helmet for
the National Anthem.
I
took a couple of deep breaths to calm down and regain my Zen while putting my
helmet back on. Group starts tend to be a little scary even without adrenaline
coursing through your veins. I needed to be calm in order to not wind up in a
pileup with some other Fred.
The
signal to start came and people began rolling out. I managed to stay out of
trouble and get into a nice rhythm almost immediately. Within a mile, I was
rolling along at a fast (for me) pace and enjoying the day.
Popular
Mechanics
One
thing I noticed almost immediately was that my bike wasn’t shifting properly,
skipping gears going up and down. I figured that I hadn’t seated the wheel in
exactly the same spot prior to the flat and that was causing mis-shifts in a
couple of gears. I was able to work around it but it was a bit of irritant. I
kept going.
At
the first SAG stop, there was a huge crowd at the volunteer mechanic’s tent. I
grabbed two snacks, refilled bottles and headed out without stopping to get the
wheel re-seated. It wasn’t bothering me much and I was having a career day on
the ride, averaging well over 18 mph for the first hour. I just wanted to keep
going and build up as much time in the bank as I could.
(Time
in the bank is a game I play in my mind on a ride. If I want to average 16 mph
on a ride, I’ll try to exceed that for as long as I can. Then, if a headwind
hits or a large hill gets in the way, I can still keep my average. Yeah, I know
it’s weird. It’s what you do to keep your head in the right place.)
At
the second SAG stop, I pulled in to the Performance Tent and explained what was
happening. The wrench loosened my wheel and felt it drop into place. Then he
put it up on the rack and tweaked the shifter until it shifted perfectly. As he
was taking it down, he said, “Hey, your back wheel is kinda soft.”
My
heart sank. I told him it was 110 psi when I left the start. He filled it back
up and suggested it might be a slow leak and perhaps I could make it to the end
without having to change it. He asked how far I had to go. I said, “29 miles,
dude. Too far.”
I
was out of tubes and would have to depend on the kindness of strangers if this
one flatted completely. And I just knew it was going to happen. Only one thing
to do, keep pedaling!
Standing
on a corner…..
I
rode out of the stop as quickly as possible. I was still having a great day and
even when the course turned into a stiff wind for the last 20 miles, I felt
great and was holding my speed well above where I’d been hoping to keep it.
And
then I noticed that the back end felt mushy. I looked down and could see that
the tire was going flat after only 10 miles. Of course. I dismounted, grabbed
my frame pump and reinflated the tire. Got back on the bike and continued on,
cresting the hill and starting down a mild descent. When I hit a small bump in
the pavement, I felt the rim hit and knew it was over for that tube. Dammit.
I
pulled over, yanked out the wheel, pulled the tire and removed the tube in less
than a minute. (You get better with repetition, I’m told.) I stood up and held
the tube over my head, looking at the oncoming riders. As they passed, I
hollered, “Anybody got a tube they can spare?”
A little help? |
About
50 riders passed me when I saw a motorcycle cop coming towards me. He stopped
and I was praying he would have some tubes but no, he didn’t. He offered to let
the SAG station, less than 2 miles away now, know that I needed help. I thanked
him and went back to my pleading with the velo parade.
Another
10 minutes passed and finally, someone stopped and handed me a tube from his
pocket. I thanked him profusely and told him he would now have good karma for
all rides for the next year. He laughed and rode off.
I
reinstalled the tube, carefully inflated it and packed my kit back up. I wiped
my hands off on a small rag that I remembered to pack and got ready to head off
when I realized I’d been standing there for nearly 30 minutes and my entire
body was now incredibly stiff from standing around. Sigh, there goes the
personal best for this ride.
I
swung my leg over the saddle looking remarkably similar to the Tin Woodsman
from the Wizard of Oz. You know, after he’s been standing in the rain and needs
to be oiled? Yeah, that was me for at least the next 2 miles to the SAG stop.
When
I rolled in, the mechanic saw my dirty hands and asked if I was the guy who had
a flat; he’d gone to look for me and we’d missed each other somehow. He then
offered me a spare tube for my saddle bag (just in case) for the last 18 miles
of the ride. Having one would mean that I’d get no further flats and that, of
course, turned out to be true.
I
had a slice of pizza and a snack, refilled bottles, and headed off to the
finish. I was no longer feeling unstoppable on the bike; I just wanted to
finish and go drink a beer.
Aftermath
I
rolled back onto the grounds of RIR a little more than 4 hours after I started
which, considering everything, was pretty amazing. I managed to average 14.3
mph despite stopping for 25 minutes by the side of the road. My Garmin told me
later that I’d managed an average moving speed of 17.8 mph which is a new
personal best for me on a ride over 30 miles in length. Evidently,
2 rides the weekend before followed by a week of travel and drinking Manhattans
is a great training program.
I think they call it tapering.
I’ve
sometimes wondered if carrying two spare tubes whenever I head out on my bike
is a bit too belt and suspenders. Now, I realize that it’s the absolute minimum
to have, at least for me. And I’m going to carry 2 spares in the car, too, when
I drive to a ride.
Otherwise,
you wind up looking like the Tim Woodsman and singing like the Scarecrow – If I
Only Had a Brain!
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