OK, it’s confession time. After more decades of biking than I care to admit to, I was defeated on a recent tour on Vancouver Island by a simple flat tire. Not only that, but I caused the flat. Not only that, but I caused the flat when I ineffectually tried to pump the tire up. My Partner-in-Ignorance, aka Maggie, has been steadfastly refusing to waste any weekend time on bike maintenance workshops. In a show of solidarity with her, I haven’t been to any either – despite the fact that we are making longer and longer bike trips. I just haven’t biked anywhere at all without my BCAA card in my jersey pocket (because these days, they will actually come out and change a flat bike tire for you – albeit not very well, as I discovered when I called them out to fix a flat recently).
Read about Great Bike Rides in and Around Vancouver Here – Vancouver Cycling
Recently Maggie and I cycled from Swartz Bay on Vancouver Island to the lovely city of Victoria, via the Lockside Trail. We spent the night at a wonderful B&B called Cottage Pirouette, near Victoria. Next morning we woke up bright and early, eager to set off on the Galloping Goose Trail to Sooke – but found that one of Maggie’s tires was slightly soft. In front of Lorraine, our friendly host, I hesitated to call the BCAA out to deal with a soft tire. I thought that might be a little embarrassing.
So I tried to pump the darn thing up. I fearlessly faced up to the tire, bravely wielding the tiny yellow pump we’d brought along (neatly packed in with a bunch of other things we had no idea how to use, such as tube repair kits and multi-purpose bike tools).
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Bike pumps are MUCH more complicated than they used to be …
The first thing I discovered is that in the substantial amount of time that has elapsed since I was nine years old, bike pumps have become much more complicated. For instance, the connection parts have different widths, depending on what size valve you have on your bike. Who knew? Also, there’s a little lever thingy that sticks out of the pump at the place where you clamp it on the valve. This lever thingy has two positions – one is the right position, and one is very definitely the wrong position. You’d think they’d be labelled – but no. Apparently, if you ride a bike, you are just supposed to magically know these things.
Suffice it to say that I must have successfully found the wrong position for the lever thingy, because after a few minutes of what I thought was quite impressive pumping, the wheel had gone from slightly soft to completely flat. Lorraine scrounged out another pump for me, politely pretending that there was a problem with the pump, not with me. I tried again. By now I was bright red from exertion and mortification. I discovered that no matter what pump I used, that tube was never going up again. It had gone to meet its maker, apparently pushed by me. Don’t ask me how, but somehow I had pumped it so enthusiastically that I broke it.
Next stop was of course the NBS (Nearest Bike Shop). Lorraine kindly loaded the bike into the family car, and drove us to Marty’s Mountain Cycle, where a friendly guy named – of course – Marty, quickly fixed the tube for me. He didn’t laugh at me at all – not to my face, anyway.
As I morosely watched, I resolved to drag Maggie off to a bike maintenance workshop. If I have to suffer, so can she, darnit – that’s what marriage is all about. We found a course called Bicycle Maintenance – Basics (we both agreed we weren’t ready for any of the advanced courses) at Britannia Community Services Centre.
