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The pump performs

12.02.2008 by Ray Niekamp // 3 Comments

The other day, Mrs. Noob and I took a 12-mile ride. A stiff northwest wind pushed us along during the first leg — I could coast at 28 mph. When we reached the Veloway and turned back into the wind, she told me to take off on my own.

“I’m going to do two laps,” she said. “That’s about all I can handle in this wind.”

I took off. Several riders in cycling gear were ahead of me, and I fell into line, eventually passing two of them, and being blown off mercilessly by a third. On the second lap, I reached the short hill, and felt the back wheel waver a bit. At the top of the hill, I slowed and pulled over. The young lady I had passed a half lap back caught up, and asked me if I needed anything. I told her no, and pressed the rear tire. It was soft.

But it wasn’t really flat yet, and I couldn’t find a puncture.  Now was the time to test my new pump in the field — for real.  It did a nice job of pumping up the tire.  I reattached it, and pedaled easily around to the Veloway entrance.  Pat wasn’t there yet, but the tire was a little soft again, so while I waited for her, I got out the pump and filled the tube again.

Pat pulled up to me as I was finishing, and I told her what happened.  She was glad I’d be going slowly on the way home, since the wind would be in our faces most of the way, and she was having a tough time maintaining forward momentum.

On a long downhill stretch during the trip home, I found myself keeping the bike’s speed in check, because the rear tire was going soft again, and wasn’t all that stable.  I got through the stoplight and pulled the bike off the road one more time for a pump up.

I had one mile to go to reach the house, and I made it.  I suppose I could have replaced the tube out on the Veloway, but since the tire seemed to be only leaking, and hadn’t gone flat, I figured a try to get home would be worth it.  It was.  The pump proved itself, and I got used to operating it quickly.  This is one purchase I’m glad I made.

Back in the garage, I pulled the rear tire and replaced the tube.  I’ll patch the bad one later, if I get bored and am looking for something to do.

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Categories // Equipment Tags // flat tire, pump

Phwfffffssssst! Duh…

10.10.2008 by Ray Niekamp // 12 Comments

I think I’ve had a very fortunate summer and fall. My last flat tire was on May 31st, during the Real Ale Ride. Since then, I’ve ridden lots of miles over some pretty rough patches, but the tires have held up beautifully.

Tonight, I had just completed a Mopac loop, and turned into the Veloway to knock off a few quick laps before heading home for supper. I crossed the gravel and dirt parking lot, jumped on the asphalt track, and pedaled easily, taking time to grab a swig from my water bottle.

When I reached the first curve, I immediately sensed that something was wrong. The rear wheel wobbled. It lost stability. !@%&*#! A flat.

I pulled over to the side and took off the wheel. Couldn’t find the tire levers! It had been so long since I poked around in my seat bag, I forgot that I had tucked them into a nifty little wallet that I keep my patch kit in. I got the tire off, and another rider came along.

“Got everything?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said. He nodded, and kept going.

Once I got the tube out of the tire, I inspected the inside of the tire for the culprit. There it was — a tiny sliver of sharp metal, about a quarter-inch long. I had to pull it out of the tread with my teeth.

“You okay?” asked a female rider as she passed.

“Yep, I can change this myself,” I replied. “Good,” she said, and pedaled off.

I always carry a spare tube. I got it into the tire, mounted both onto the wheel, and dug around for my CO2 cartridges.

WTF? Why am I carrying around a CO2 cartridge that’s already been used, and has a puncture?

Oh, there’s another good one in here. Let’s just stick it into the inflator and screw the top down…

Pop! Phwffffsssst! Oh no! I punctured the cartridge! Quick! Get it on the presta valve before…

I screwed down the top of the inflator, and stopped the leaking — but not before a cold white residue covered the cartridge, my fingers, and my gloves.

“!@%&*#!,” I shouted. I got the rest of the CO2 into the tire. There was enough to give the tire some shape, but not enough to make it rideable. I wasn’t far from the parking lot, so I started walking the bike back.

At the beginning of the path, a biker was taking it easy next to the water fountain. I leaned my bike against the bench nearby, and asked if he had a tire pump.

“No, but I have one of these things,” he said, holding up a CO2 cartridge. “I don’t know much about them. Can you use it?”

“You betcha,” I said (I’m originally from the Midwest). “Hey, it’s the threaded kind. That’s better.”

I screwed it onto the inflator, and fitted the end over the presta valve. Pulled the trigger. Whoosh! In about one second, the tire was inflated. I tested it with my fingers. It was firm to the touch. Let’s see…if I give it one more shot, it’ll probably inflate to the pressure I like…

Bang!

“Aww,” said the guy.

I said something stronger.

I inspected the flat tire. Dummy! The tube had gotten caught between the tire and the rim. One of those things they teach you to check for when you first learn how to change a flat tire.

I got out my cell phone.

“Honey? I’m at the Veloway. Can you come pick me up?”

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Categories // Equipment, Rides Tags // bike maintenance, CO2, flat tire, pumps

Real Ale Ride leaves me ailin’ (ride report)

05.31.2008 by Ray Niekamp // 16 Comments

Ignominy (IG’-na-min-ee): Great personal dishonor or humiliation (American Heritage Dictionary). Used in a sentence: The Real Ale Ride today ended in ignominy for the Bike Noob.

The Real Ale Ride in Blanco, Texas, could have been a great ride. All the elements were there. A beautiful day (OK, hot); nice Texas Hill Country scenery; a start and finish at a microbrewery (Real Ale) with beer and barbecue at the end.

Pat and I both signed up for the 50-mile route, from choices of 15, 30, 50, 65 and 85 miles. She was smart — realized she didn’t have enough mileage under her belt to do a 50, so cut back to the 30. I, on the other hand, was not so smart.

We got off to a good start. We met Jared from Just Another Nerd… and his friends Eric and Christine. They all planned to do the 50, too.

Eric, Christine, and Jared.

It didn’t take long for the hills to kick in. I think some bikers were caught by surprise at the extent of the hills, and their steepness. I was huffing and puffing just a few miles into the ride. This ride is organized by a local bike shop, and attracts a higher caliber of rider from both the Austin and San Antonio areas than most typical charity rides. The first rest stop is about 13 miles from the start. Typical remark while in line for the food and drink: “I was gonna do the 50, but I think I’m cutting it to 30 today.”

Rest Stop #1. We didn’t go over the hills in the background, but we did go through gaps to get past them. That involved climbing enough.

Hunting for bananas, and pickle juice, and…

Jared and friends decided to skip this stop, so I watched them head down the road. Since my bonk earlier this year, I am sensitive to keeping fueled while on a ride. Besides, it’s not a race, anyway. When I did get going, I made decent time to the second rest stop, and had caught up to them. Heading out from here, we picked up a ranch road with light traffic, and made better time.

Yep, that’s the Noob.

The ride goes through cattle country, and riders had to cross cattle guards at several points along the route. The signs warning of the cattle guards seem to carry a double meaning:

Someone needs to rein in their morals.

The ranch road brought us back to the first rest stop again. I plopped into a chair under an awning, drank my liquids and ate some food. The temperature was into the 90s by now, and some of the starch was coming out of me. The road out from the rest stop climbed through the passes over the hills in the earlier picture. I was in the largest cog of my compact double, and kicking myself for not getting the triple when I bought the bike. Then, I hit a hill I could not pedal up. That didn’t bother me — lots of others walked their bikes up it, too.

Will this guy make it, or will he have to walk his bike, too?

The beauty of a struggle up a hill like this one is that once you’re at the top, it’s downhill. Man, was it ever. At one point, the road dropped away out of sight. Once you hit the dropoff, your speed soared. I was going more than 35 mph, and could easily have hit 45, but some of the curves in the road made me uneasy. I feathered the brakes to keep from gaining too much speed, and kept it around 35. BANG! The rear tire let go like a shotgun blast. I kept the bike steady, and stopped to assess the damage.

Shredded rear tire. I’m guessing the heat buildup from the braking (no, I didn’t keep the brakes applied constantly — used mostly the front and hit the rear intermittently) caused the tire to blow. After a half hour, a sag wagon found me and drove me back to the start. I finished about 38 miles.

Pat was already there, having completed her 30-miler. She was fried. She pushed her very upright, heavy steel hybrid through those same hills, but when she got to the main intersection in downtown Blanco (pop. 1500) and realized she faced one more two-mile climb to the finish, it was almost more than she could take.

We didn’t even bother to stand in line for the beer and barbecue, but headed for home right away. Pat is now talking more seriously about a new, lighter, road-friendly bike, and I’m once again making a resolution to work hills into my weekly rides more than I do now. Upcoming rides? Talk to me after today recedes into my dim memory.

For another take on the ride, see comments left by Daren of the LMRA Bicycle Club of Ft. Worth on his club’s message board.

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Categories // Rides Tags // flat tire, hills, organized ride, Rides

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