Bang
We begin November with a spirited ride to work. About halfway, I hear a loud bang emanate from my back wheel. The tube has blown. I pull over, replace it, pump it, and start out again.
A little down the road, I am greeted by another loud bang. This tube has also blown. Not good.
I am out of tubes, my patch kit is dried up, so I am now in Quincy, a way from work, with few options. The cell phone works and the brother is home. He says he’ll bail me out.
I make an effort to progress northward. I stick out my thumb and a few minutes later a guy in a pickup truck with a bike in the back stops to help me out. He has a spare tube which I offer to buy for $5. Upon closer examination, the sidewall of the tire is blown.
Game over.
He says he’ll give me a ride to Broadway. I call my brother who says he’ll meet me there.
Fifteen minutes later, I meet my brother who has a tire, two spare tubes, and a CO2 inflator. In minutes, I am back on the road. Happy to be there.
When I was a child, my father always said, “Your brother is your friend for life.” Ain’t that the truth.
A little down the road, I am greeted by another loud bang. This tube has also blown. Not good.
I am out of tubes, my patch kit is dried up, so I am now in Quincy, a way from work, with few options. The cell phone works and the brother is home. He says he’ll bail me out.
I make an effort to progress northward. I stick out my thumb and a few minutes later a guy in a pickup truck with a bike in the back stops to help me out. He has a spare tube which I offer to buy for $5. Upon closer examination, the sidewall of the tire is blown.
Game over.
He says he’ll give me a ride to Broadway. I call my brother who says he’ll meet me there.
Fifteen minutes later, I meet my brother who has a tire, two spare tubes, and a CO2 inflator. In minutes, I am back on the road. Happy to be there.
When I was a child, my father always said, “Your brother is your friend for life.” Ain’t that the truth.
posted by joe berkeley at 7:28 AM
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