Three miles. Three miserable piddling fucking miles I got today until I heard an explosion that I had only heard once before. We were sitting outside having a few beers on a warm November day and I was fixing my latest puncture. After I got the tube back in and the tire on the rim, I started to pump it up. As to 60, 70, 80 psi, we all heard a loud pop and the whole thing deflated to nothing. I had obviously not stuffed the tube back in properly and it had pinched somewhere between the tire and the rim causing a very minor explosion. I felt like a moron at the time but it taught me a lesson on changing tires, at least. This time there really was no lesson to learn except that I might be cursed.
Temperature: 82 f | Wind Speed: 8 mph | Miles this month: 167.23m | Miles this year: 315.04m (1,705.96m to go)
You should read back over the most recent post. I am less than 20 miles into two new tires and an expensive tune up and my back tire has literally exploded. It was much louder than my own previous fuck up and had people turning heads from a hundred yards away. I didn’t even need to look down to know what happened but I couldn’t understand why. Surely if it were the same situation as my one outlined above, this would have happened sooner. If it were a stone or something between the tire and tube (another one I’ve had) it would just go flat and not explode.
Too hot to trot
The only conclusion I can come to is that it must have been over inflated and the slightly hotter weather today was too much for it to take. What does it matter at this point anyway? I’m 3 miles from home with a bike that I can’t cycle and it’s 80 degrees. I have a habit in situations like this of taking the most difficult way out. I’m not sure if it’s to somehow teach myself a lesson or ensure I won’t forget the situation. Whatever it is, I hoisted the bike on my shoulder and started walking home. I refused help from three people on the way. The only one that would likely have been able to help was a man in a pickup truck about 100 yards from home.
I called the bike shop man on the way just to let him know my tire had exploded within 24 hours of me picking it up. Could be something we did, could be a coincidence, he says. I probably didn’t explain it well enough to him but I’m mad anyway. It might be a few days before I climb atop the Trek for a ride again.