In which it’s… well, if not the best story, at least there’s a learning curve. That’s always good, right?
Over the last few months, I’ve invested a non-trivial amount of time in reading up on bicycle maintenance. There are all kinds of informative articles and videos on the Internet, and it’s just a bike, right? I’m smart, I should be able to learn how to take care of a bike, right?
Well, sort of. It turns out that while I was interested enough in doing the research itself, I wasn’t interested enough to actually do any of the things I’d learned, so I caved and took the bike over to Allegro Cyclery where it was given a tune-up and new tires by persons who were not myself.
Tuesday morning I walked over – via a stop at the Starbucks on 1st & Main, which had literally been remodeled overnight and was really disorienting and weird – to pick it up. I gave them eighty bucks, and they gave me my bike! In working condition!
I walked it a block to the pita place and grabbed a falafel for lunch (falafel travels comfortably in the purse, you see). Then I rode it home. And it was awesome. And fast! Yay, I have a BIKE again! For the first time since, what, since I was dating Vita at MIU? So, probably fifteen years.
I ate, I worked for a bit, I made calls to WorkSource and WWCC. Then I went for another ride! Whee! Bicycle! WHEE! I went to the post office. I rode around in circles. I rode around downtown. I timed the trip back from St. Mary’s because I had an appointment there later. I rode through the insane crazy construction zone that is much of 1st street. Three times.
Which was probably a mistake, because when I went to hop back on the bike (to go get my boobs smashed in an expensive machine at St. Mary’s) it had a flat.
So I jumped in the truck and drove ten blocks (that global warming thing? MY FAULT) because I didn’t have time to walk. And the nice lady in Imaging smashed my boobs in an expensive machine for the first time ever (it hurts, by the way), and then I went back to the bike shop to buy a patch kit and some kind of bike-tire-airing-up apparatus.
Since I hadn’t aired up a bike tire in over a decade, I didn’t really have a way to choose between various bike-tire-airing-up apparatuses, so after the awesome guy showed me all the available choices, I just picked the smallest one. Because, as you know, I love tiny electronics, and I figured a tiny tool is close enough, and there’s a compressor at home that weighs seven hundred pounds so what I really need is a portable bike-tire-airing-up apparatus thingy that I can take with me.
And when I got home I aired up the tire, just to see if it really had a hole in it.
It did, damn it.
Today, I took the tire off the bike (which required more time than you’d think, since I had to find tools and figure out how to do it) and got the tube out and stuck it in the sink and found the bubbles and patched the hole. (I think that may have been the very first time in my entire life that I’ve ever patched a bicycle tire all by myself.) Then I put the tire back together and took it out to the garage to air it up.
And then I spent a long damn time finding the right attachment for the compressor, and then an even longer time trying to set the bead on the damned tire before finally giving up for a couple of hours because HOLY COW THIS JUST SHOULDN’T TAKE THIS FREAKING LONG, IT JUST SHOULDN’T. (It was hard because the tire is new and has therefore been folded up in a box until just recently, and because compressors blow a lot of air really fast, and because the attachment I was using was kind of awkward to control, and because I’m not seriously mechanical by nature).
Stupid flat tire. Jeez. I just picked the freaking thing up yesterday. Hell, I probably didn’t even ride it five miles! What the hell, stupid flat tire!
At least it wasn’t the rear tire. Knock on wood.
When I tried again a few hours later, I got the bead to set and the tire filled up beautifully. And it was still light outside, so I’d have time for a ride! Yay! But when I turned off the compressor, I could hear hissing.
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said, holding the tire up to my ear.
Oh yes it did. The thing was hissing like a snake. “Damn it! Damn it all to HELL!” I yelled, stomping my foot.
No, it wasn’t the patch failing – I’d done that right. It was the valve leaking. I must have broken it somehow, in the course of my learning curve. No bike rides for me today. Argh! This is entirely too tedious for a freakin’ bicycle tire!!!
I’m just going to take the thing back to the bike shop tomorrow and have them replace the tube for me, because I’m not interested in screwing around with it any more. I just want to ride the damn bike over to WWCC and back to see how long it takes!
Oh, well. At least I now have an adorable tiny little tool kit. And I’ve learned how to patch a tire and where the attachment is for the compressor, all stuff I hadn’t known before. So that’s good. Right?
Yes, as a matter of fact I am keeping my bike tools in the box I got from my manicurist that used to contain emery boards. (What. The stuff fits perfectly!) World’s tiniest toolbox! Whoo hoo!
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There are two types of valves. One is a solid circle with a pin in the center that gets depressed and opens the airway through the valve. The other is more of a bayonet style and the center pin actually threads up and down–might you have this type, and all you need to do is tighten the pin so it’s closed?
Ah. Two kinds of valves? Okay. I guess I knew that. …This valve looks like every other valve I’ve ever seen, so I’m guessing it’s the “solid circle with a pin in the center” type? -m
I admire people who maintain their own bicycles, but in the end I just love my bike repair shop–so totally worth it! Oh, and bike lights are great this time of year.
I totally want to be a person who maintains her own bicycle, but, well, yeah. *sigh* When my next paycheck comes, I’m totally buying bike accessories! – m
I’d recommend you head to BigK and get two new innertubes with the self patching goop inside. They are a little more expensive but well worth it. I like the Belkin tire brand, seems to have the best self sealing goop.
The valves sometimes cock open after filling and just take a thumbnail flick on that center pin to reset. And of course, they need to be screwed in tight…usually the plastic cap that screws onto the tire valve has a slot for that. And that device is readily handed out for free at any bike, tire or auto shop. (And it would fit in your cute tool box).
I tried the thumbnail flick, of course, and the thing continued to leak like a sieve. I will try again today since I didn’t make it over to the bike shop this morning. You’re the second person to mention the self-patching goop solution so I should probably look into that as well. “They need to be screwed in tight?” You mean the valve caps? This tire didn’t have a valve cap on it; they must have spaced it at the shop. Are they really important? -m
The caps are handy because if the Schrader (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schrader_valve) valve is leaking, like yours was, they help slow it down. They also keep the valve core clean (I meant the Schrader valve needs to be screwed it tight). They should have done that at the shop and given you a free cap(s).
Any gas station, tire store, or bike shop will usually give you the valve cores and caps for free.
The next time I’m in the bike shop, I’ll ask for some extra caps. -m
Just a note, if a bike repair shop had NOT done the valve check and put on caps during a tune up? After selling me new tires? I’d be hollering at them. They owe you a tire patch and a new valve plus caps.
Why do they owe me a patch? I put a hole in the tire riding through a construction zone. Three times. -m
Yeah, that was a mistype after having my thoughts interrupted. I thought I’d changed it before posting though. Guess I didn’t.
It’s still strange that after selling you two new tires that they probably didn’t tighten one of the valves (isn’t that why it was leaking air?) and didn’t give you caps for your stems.
Lucky…I’ve always wanted to ride a bike. I bet I’d look cute riding it too (though probz not as adorbz as tu). Shame that I have the coordination of an amputee giraffe on stilts.
You’ve never had a bicycle? Really? That’s terrible, honey! And you’d be totes adorbs, natch. -m