The slight fishtailing this morning was indicitive of an imminent flat tire. Today’s culprit, not surprisingly, was a shard of glass barely penetrating the kevlar belt. Normally, I’d swap out the old tube for the spare, patch the old one, and continue, thereby saving some down time. I forget what compelled me to do so, but I test inflated the spare, discovering a pronounced bulge where the rubber was deteriorating. Better to find this out now!
I’m not complaining because it’s been nearly four months and 1,400 miles since I last had a flat. Normally I get them once every 400 miles. (Is this a factor of dry weather? Clean living? Luck?) The tube’s well-loved with six patches dating back to last year. Upon closer inspection, the tires are looking marginal. I’ll swap them out with a new pair this weekend.
I seem to be having a bit of good tire karma going on, as I’ve made it through STP and RSVP without a single puncture. I’ve been carrying three spare tubes on these rides, which may account for my good fortune. There may be a cosmic biking law about the number of flats you get being inversely proportional to your preparedness to deal with same.
Then again, it might just be that I’ve been lucky.
I’m convinced that flats are the bane of life. I wish the foam tubes, tire balls, and other no-air options would evolve into solid solutions.
-ted, just back from the Arctic Circle