Last week we had a wonder opportunity to take a few days of vacation and visit family down in New Mexico. Of course I couldn't pass up the opportunity to bike out-of-state, so into the back of the van the bicycle went with clothes, shoes, and other vacationing items stacked around it.
After the (brutally) long, 14 hour drive down to Las Cruces, I could think of nothing better than to stretch the legs and head out exploring the new terrain. We had arrived Saturday morning, it was crystal clear outside and just starting to get warm. A perfect day!
I didn't ride far that day- about 25 miles, mostly trying to find some decent climbs (of which there were few...), but it was exceptionally pleasant. Toward the end of the ride, however...
Ha. You thought I was going to blow a tire now, didn't you. Well, I didn't. It was just getting a bit warm by the time I rolled back up to the home of my wife's brother's family. After driving all night, it felt good to get out. Even better after I got a bit of sleep later that day.
Sunday, my brother-in-law, Jesse, was kind enough to find a couple of guys in the neighborhood that were roadies. He asked them if they wouldn't mind me tagging along on a ride with them, to which they seemed enthusiastic, and we set a date to get out early Tuesday morning. Monday rolled by (we had a lot of fun with the family the entire day) and at 6:00AM Tuesday, I grabbed my bike, jumped into the saddle and Jesse drove ahead, showing me where we were supposed to meet. When we arrived, however, we saw neither hide nor hair of those I was to bike with. Jesse drove around a bit trying to find any sign of bikers while I waited in case we were early. After a few minutes, we decided to jump in the car and head up the route we had settled on to see if we could catch them. As Jesse drove off, I accelerated, intending on keeping up with the van. Unfortunately, it just wasn't in the cards.
POP
Can you guess what that was? :) Yes, indeed, my rear tire had blown out. Not just a simple blown tire though- the sidewall of the tire tore clean through, a full half-inch gash in an explosive release. 125PSI, for those who may not be aware, goes off like a pipe bomb. It was loud enough to make Jesse (in a van, about 100 yards ahead) stop and wonder what had happened. As for me, well, I dismounted (quickly) as soon as I felt my tire give out. Riding on rim is not exactly a good idea...
Anyway, here's a picture for you all of the damage done to the tire. I had put about 1000 miles on the set of tires, so it was definitely time to retire them. I guess I should have thought about that before... :)
Epilogue
As much as I hate to admit it, I didn't run down to the store and grab a new tube that same day. We headed home on Wednesday and it wasn't until Friday that I finally got around to trying to repair the tire. And, even more hesitantly, I'll admit that I didn't notice the gaping hole in my sidewall straight away... I patched the tube where I found the (massive) hole, ran my finger along the inside of the tire to find any undesirable objects, then threw it back on, pumped it up, and put it back on the bike. Needless to say, that didn't last long. As soon as my rear hit the saddle, I heard the pleasant sound of a cannon going off yet again.
I suppose it wouldn't be that bad if I hadn't gone through 3 tires... yes, a full 3... before I finally looked at the sidewall and found the gaping hole. Well... I've never been known for my smarts. For good reason!
So the tally stands thus: 4 destroyed tubes, 1 destroyed tire, 3 days of lost time, my old Lemond is now missing a tire, as well as 2 tubes (I didn't have enough spares to counter my idiocy). All in the name of the ride. Some day, I will learn. Some day.
