I was riding a friend's wheels today. Interval training in the rain.
On the third interval the front wheel popped. First puncture I've had in....
Noting these were clinchers (I've been riding tubulars) I'd swapped the spare tubular for a spare tube.
Unfortunately I'd forgotten tyre levers. No worries, I'll use the skewers.
Oh! Carbon ended quick release skewers! He won't be happy.
Images of Charles Bronson as I eventually got the tyre off with my dead frozen hands.
Checked the tyre. Great condition. Like new.
But the inner tube? Now I understand weight weenie trends to an extent...
That's what it looks like when you inflate it without the tyre for company.
No worries I've got a decent spare.
Pull out a cartridge. The adapter looks like it's been raised from the Titanic! Insert cartridge. Hear the pop as it pierces open...
Wait! There's no knob to release the gas! Holy molies Batman!
Don't panic. Too far to walk home. But there's a factory in the distance.
The patter of cleats on tarmac take me back to late nights on the town in my university days...
Two guys outside chuffing on a cig. Bingo!
I get a spanner and release the gas.
It's never a pretty site and as expected, the final icy CO2 spills out and freezes both gloves to the cartridge. Impatient I rip them off, losing both glove thumbs! Compo style!
7 more intervals to go then. A risk without a spare. But a risk worth taking.
The shuffle to the factory finally saw the end to my cleats. In the summer months I'd Zola Budd it barefoot. But they were as good as dead anyway...
At the bike shop tonight I put on some new heels.
And put in my entry for Tokyo-Itoigawa.
Here we go!