First of all, let me explain that recent aptitude tests place me roughly equivalent to the banana slug, in terms of mechanical ability. Not because of a lack of desire; far from it. Let's just say that the last time I attempted to repair something in the kitchen sink, the plumber who eventually arrived let it be known that I had doubled the cost of repair with my meager attempts.
And, there was that time that I bought a radial arm saw, and tried to feed a board into it the wrong way, only to have the CAST IRON guard snap in two, with one piece whizzing past my head and missing me by perhaps an inch.
So, you can understand when I returned to biking I had a natural trepidation of things going wrong, and me being stranded 15 miles from civilization, with no clue how to fix it.
Today, I went to move my bike from it's informal post next to the front door to a more comfortable, traffic-pattern-wise, position in an adjacent room when I got the news.
First the bad news: My front tire, a fat, knobby, just under 400 miles-on-it tire, is flat. A cursory examination revealed a burr embedded between two knobs.
The good news: The tire went flat AT HOME! Woohoo! I can get that book from Barnes & Noble that SWEARS it makes bicycle repair easy, and take my time, and repair the flat. I had the foresight to purchase a spare tube, plus I have a patch kit, and there's plenty of iced tea in the fridge. My schedule won't permit me tackling this until Thursday, however.
Thursday afternoon, I'll probably be putting the bike on the rack and driving to my LBS, so they can repair the damage I do to the tire, trying to repair the damage the burr did in the first place.
It's nice to know one's schedule ahead of time.