As promised, the story of Old Bikey, New Bikey and the footpump. OK, this story is going to make me look like a mad woman but I'm up for it.
I was out back at work by the bikeshed and I was talking to Old Bikey (it was the day before the Wisper was due to arrive) and telling him that he had done sterling work over the last 7000+ miles and was about to go into a gracefull retirement (ok, I talk to inanimate objects).
On the way home that night I was riding up Hart's Farm Way when I thought the back end of the bike felt funny. I stopped and looked back and saw I had a flattish kind of flat. In a Bontrager puncture resistant tyre. It didn't feel like a flat because of the anti-pinch protection the tyre has.
I hoped it was a slow puncture so I whipped out my trusty footpump and put some air into the tyre. It wasn't a slow puncture. It went down in 200 yards.
By now I'm on the A27 cycleway and by the last lampost illuminating the A27. Not a lot of light to work by but better than pitch black. I got my tools out and removed the tyre and pulled out the innertube. Did I say it was blowing a gale, it was ruddy cold and it was drizzleing with rain and my hair was in my face and the tyre was filthy? Well, it was all that.
I found the puncture pretty quickly and soon had a patch on it. Tube and tyre back in place I attach my trusty footpump and start to inflate the tyre - for two seconds! The shaft holding the cross bar in place shears at one end (why was it made of brass?) and I'm left with a seriously twisted footpump.
So, I've got one hoof on the bottom part of the pump to stabilise it while my other hoof is trying to apply a steady stream of pumps at an angle that only a sharpened brick in free flight should have. I get the pressure up to 50psi when top hoof slips and the whole pump gives up the ghost and flies apart
Thank goodness I'd got it as far as 50psi because I didn't have a spare pump. It got me home safely but I couldn't help wondering if it was Bikey's attempt at a spot of revenge.
Vikki.
I was out back at work by the bikeshed and I was talking to Old Bikey (it was the day before the Wisper was due to arrive) and telling him that he had done sterling work over the last 7000+ miles and was about to go into a gracefull retirement (ok, I talk to inanimate objects).
On the way home that night I was riding up Hart's Farm Way when I thought the back end of the bike felt funny. I stopped and looked back and saw I had a flattish kind of flat. In a Bontrager puncture resistant tyre. It didn't feel like a flat because of the anti-pinch protection the tyre has.
I hoped it was a slow puncture so I whipped out my trusty footpump and put some air into the tyre. It wasn't a slow puncture. It went down in 200 yards.
By now I'm on the A27 cycleway and by the last lampost illuminating the A27. Not a lot of light to work by but better than pitch black. I got my tools out and removed the tyre and pulled out the innertube. Did I say it was blowing a gale, it was ruddy cold and it was drizzleing with rain and my hair was in my face and the tyre was filthy? Well, it was all that.
I found the puncture pretty quickly and soon had a patch on it. Tube and tyre back in place I attach my trusty footpump and start to inflate the tyre - for two seconds! The shaft holding the cross bar in place shears at one end (why was it made of brass?) and I'm left with a seriously twisted footpump.
So, I've got one hoof on the bottom part of the pump to stabilise it while my other hoof is trying to apply a steady stream of pumps at an angle that only a sharpened brick in free flight should have. I get the pressure up to 50psi when top hoof slips and the whole pump gives up the ghost and flies apart
Vikki.