The long dreaded ominous tapping from the front wheel began, as I stopped I prayed that it was just something caught in the spokes.
No such luck.
There it was, Satan's dart, plumb on the centre line of the tyre.
Not just a common or garden thorn, but a roofing felt clout.
Looking just like an overgrown drawing pin, this evil, threequarters of an inch long barb of malevolence, with a large round, flat head, glared back at me.
Just the thing for puncturing a tyre.
Of course, the Schwalbe kevlar 'puncture resistant' band did not stand a chance.
Gently picking at the head, which is all that I could see, and hoping against hope that it had not gone right through, I was rewarded with a fierce hiss, the envy of any cobra.
I pushed it back and it seemed to be satisfied and stopped hissing. Two and a half miles to home. Could I make it or would the fates be against me? I had the equipment and spare tube with me, but it is so much easier to repair it in my garage.
Luck was with me, I pedalled my best, engine on full throttle, wishing that I had bought that bottle of slime. I made it.
Strangely, the tyre did not seem to be leaking even though the nail had gone right through. When I pulled the nail out, the tyre rapidly deflated.
Such are the joys of cycling.
No such luck.
There it was, Satan's dart, plumb on the centre line of the tyre.
Not just a common or garden thorn, but a roofing felt clout.
Looking just like an overgrown drawing pin, this evil, threequarters of an inch long barb of malevolence, with a large round, flat head, glared back at me.
Just the thing for puncturing a tyre.
Of course, the Schwalbe kevlar 'puncture resistant' band did not stand a chance.
Gently picking at the head, which is all that I could see, and hoping against hope that it had not gone right through, I was rewarded with a fierce hiss, the envy of any cobra.
I pushed it back and it seemed to be satisfied and stopped hissing. Two and a half miles to home. Could I make it or would the fates be against me? I had the equipment and spare tube with me, but it is so much easier to repair it in my garage.
Luck was with me, I pedalled my best, engine on full throttle, wishing that I had bought that bottle of slime. I made it.
Strangely, the tyre did not seem to be leaking even though the nail had gone right through. When I pulled the nail out, the tyre rapidly deflated.
Such are the joys of cycling.
