So, I’m airing up my back tire, which has had a slow leak. When I was unscrewing the tip of the Presta Valve, I noticed that it looked a little cockeyed, but I didn’t think much of it. However, when I was pulling the head of the tire pump back off, that whole little screw-cap-and-shaft gizzie that makes a Presta Valve what it is, popped right out and shot across the room and my tire went flat as a pancake.
No biggie, I think. I’ve got a spare tube.
Can’t find my damn tire levers anywhere. They should be in my tool bag, but aren’t. They’re not on the dining table, they’re not on the shelf by the CDs, they’re not in my sewing room, nor on my desk. These are the top most likely places where they might be if they weren’t in my bag, but they’re nowhere to be found. With my mountain bike, a couple of Bic pens suffice in pinch, but there was no doing that with this fancy-schmancy Velomax wheel. It scoffed at such presumption.
So, I’ve got the back wheel off my new bike bunjeed to my backpack, I aired up the tires on my old bike, switched a water bottle back to it, and I’m off, Beverley Hillbilly style, to work, to the bike-shop, and to whatever other adventure this day will bring.
As Bugs Bunny used to say, “I shoulda stood in bed.”