flat tires

Writing trouble continues as work continues.

The weather is nice again and I pulled my bike down Wednesday morning to ride into work.  I was bummed to find a flat rear tire; it must have happened riding home last week.

Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve changed a bike tire?  Probably since sometime back in middle school, when my bicycle was my one and only means of transportation.  I so remember those morning rides to the “bike cage” at school.  Sometimes it was cold enough in Florida to make your bare knuckles hurt on the way; they always bore the brunt, leading the way out front such as they do.  I rode that bike like it was alive; could turn it with the tiniest muscle motion, something a hair beyond mind-control.  Without my bike I was reduced to padding around town, range severely limited.  Made for an extremely low tolerance for downtime.  Probably the last time I changed a tire; really.

I thought about looking on the internet, but then I don’t really think it’s that hard.  The man part of me says that I will just be able to know how to do it like the birds know how to fly south.  I’ll take out the tube something.  Maybe try filling the thing up and spitting on it where I hear air hissing out.  Then somehow I’ll patch it.  Or maybe I’ll buy a new tube.  I think I’ll have to buy a patch kit if I have to patch it.  I bet they have them at the sports store across the street.  I can walk over there (can’t ride my bike, tire’s flat).  This could be like a test.  Like the first time I changed the brakes on my Ford all by myself.  I screwed up, of course; forgot to put the “chatter plates” back on the right way and the things screeched like hell.

Always just a little too proud.


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