I can't take a trick at the moment. Sheesh.
The car's in the workshop ... again.
The workshop closes at five so I've got to leave work early.
I leap on the treddly and have a good ride ... until about 4km from the workshop when I get that sudden unsteady feeling.
Yup, rapidly deflating rear tyre.
No problem, that happens. I check the time and have about 15 minutes to get to the workshop.
Out with the rear wheel.
Off with the tyre (yes, I cheated and went straight for the tyre levers rather than use my thumbs).
Out with the tube.
Quick check for anything sharp in the tyre. No torn or bloody fingers so in with the spare tube.
This takes about 13.248 nano-seconds so I'm feeling reasonably good about getting to the workshop on time.
Then I reach for that stupid pump.
For starters, I couldn't undo the velcro strap to get it off the frame! The end was between the pump and the frame and the velcro had welded itself together, so I get a tyre lever and dig the end out.
At about this point, I could hear a parrot in the tree above practicing some of the swear words I'd been teaching him.
Pump's off the frame at last, attached to wheel. Pump pump pump pump pump flamin' pump.
Take pump off wheel and check if it's working. It is, so why no air in the tyre?
Pump back on wheel.
Pump pump pump bloody pump flamin' pump.
The parrot looks shocked at the language and flies away.
Still no air in the tyre, it's leaking out as fast as it's going in and this being one of those stupid mini-pumps that are all you can get these days, it's not going in all that fast.
Check for leaks in pump.
Check for leaks around the seal.
Have another go.
Pump pump pump pump pump pump.
I'm now feeling a tad cranky now so that little pump handle was really oscillating.
I stop to check the time. It's now 5. I look at my mobile phone. They've rung me during the day so their number would be recorded, but which number is it? I try two - the first didn't answer which was nice because the second number was the workshop.
I explain my problem, trying to sound calm and genteel because the lovely Kari really is a nice lass, even nicer when she offered to jump in my car and come and get me.
While I waited, I had another shot at that tyre. Nope, can barely get enough into it to hold the rim off the ground.
Kari turned up. The car's working nicely. My credit card didn't bounce so I was able to pay my bill and I got home ... about an hour late.
The hole in the tube looks like a roofing nail's gone through it. Added to that, whatever it was went through a tyre liner as well. You'd expect to see some evidence of damage on the tyre wouldn't you? Nope, not even a suggestion of a cut, let alone something resembling a harpoon sticking out of the tyre.
So I've got the tyre pumped up using my floor pump. I'm hoping that it'll either go flat really quickly or still be rock solid in the morning - I'm good at being hopelessly optimistic like that.
But that rotten mini-pump? It's USELESS. And it's a good brand (Wrench Force) that cost quite a bit. It's only been used once before as my flats have either been discovered in the convenience of my own home or been on other bikes. But I can't go riding carrying that heap of rubbish again. It puffs air but all of that seems to escape back through the head mechanism ... I think. It's probably been hanging on a bike for too long (about 2 1/2 years).
So, what new pump do I buy? I've yet to be impressed with any of these little mini-pumps you get these days (though my cheapies at least pump up the tyres). You can't get any with a decent volume any more ... well, not here in the land of the great lycra fairy you can't. It's enough to turn me to CO2 ... which is great until you run out of CO2 ... usually because you haven't found the pointy thing causing the punctures yet.
For the record, the noise in the bike is now gone (change of pedals) ... so I guess that's why the bike felt it could inflict this upon me.
The soap opera continues
I wonder if that parrot is still practicing those swear words I taught him