The dreaded slow leak
We’ve all felt it; going over a bump or through a corner and feeling that unmistakable bit of slop in the handling that sends your heart straight to your feet. Hoping you’re wrong, you bounce the tire as you roll along, confirming you’ve got a puncture.
But it’s not really flat – not yet, at least. Just softening. The question is, do you stop or do you try to keep going and hope its a slow enough leak to finish the ride? Barring that, can you at least get to a comfortable spot to change the tire, such as the little café near the turnaround point. Everyone who has ever changed a tire knows that changing a tire with a coffee at hand is a civilized way to go about such things.
Or, hypothetically, you realize that you’ve forgotten to bring the little tool that removes your valve extender and valve core, making it impossible to change your tire. Which means you are now committed to a race against your slow leak to get home.
Forget the contre la montre; the real race of truth is the race against the escape of air in your tire as you speed home at full gas in an attempt to avoid a long wobbly walk of shame in cycling shoes.
Spoiler alert: I made it home. Hypothetically.
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I once spent many kms trying to figure out why my rim was making a noise every time I stood up out of the saddle. Finally, my rear wheel got squirrely and I knew. I also knew I did not have another 2.5 kms left in that tube before my normal cafe stop.
Had a puncture on my Sunday morning ride which was the first puncture I've had for roughly two years. No chance of getting home on it & had to repair. I blame myself.
Spent Saturday cleaning the #1 & switching the Campy Zonda wheels from my #9 bike to #1. Removed & polished the cassette, lubed the chain, cleaned the Zondas before replacing tube & tyres. Everything was perfect apart from the fact I committed a blatant violation of rule #40 in my haste to put everything together.
Did I spend 10 minutes fixing my forgiveable yet not excusable error? Nope, I told myself it was alright as the wheel decal is over the stem hole so technically itwas bending a rule rather than breaking it.
Fast forward 16 hours or so to the Sunday ride & my rear tyre is flatter than a very flat thing. I also forgot my levers & spare inner tube to also violate rule #83.
Luckily I was bailed out by my riding buddies & we were on our merry way again (not before I momentarily lost a quick release spring upon reassembly) whilst the post ride beers were expectedly & deservedly on me.
I spent rest of the day meditating on the fact that ten minutes on Saturday would've saved twenty on Sunday.
Lessons to be learnt.
I had the slowest of slow leaks on my commuter last year. It would take a few days to get flat. I was such an assfaced bastard about it that I went a few months before I pulled and patched the tube. My wife flatted on the same bike two weeks ago. I just swapped it out for an extra wheel I had in the shed.
Goddamn, now that I write this out I realize I need to get it together! What is becoming of me?
Due to the current puncture situation on my #1 I dare not comment on this subject.
A couple of weeks ago I contemplated riding my commuter on the back rim to the railway station rather than stop and sort out the puncture. Common sense prevailed and fortunately there was a (distinctly non local and very chain-y) BS in the vicinity to pick up some spare tubes.
Hypothetically speaking I would say the race is truly on, not against the clock but you vs. the air slowly leaking. Full on gas, in hopes of not looking totally insane or like a NYC bike messenger whipping through traffic until you find a safe and fitting area to change said tire/tube or await assistance. To go too long in the race you bet more than just dignity- rim, bike, skin; all calculations that must be made at high speeds while thinking ahead several turns trying to judge how much air will still be in said tire when you hit the turns at such and such speed(s) and can you pull it off safely?
Add a few hills and it might pay in spades to use the time wisely and ride to a good area to pull off and change the tire under a nice shade tree rather than bombing down at break-neck speed on a mushy tire.
That whereof we cannot speak thereof we must remain silent......oh fck.
Does that mean the flatted FMB is only hypothetically flatted for the purposes of the article? Or will your next piece be about the joys of learning to repair your own tubulars? I'll look forward to it as I've got a few in the garage that need repairing.
That is all that I'm willing to say on the subject of puntures.
@frank
if only you hadn't wasted your can o' magic foam on some jackass's cut-up clincher rig recently...
"slow enough leak to finish the ride," "little café near the turnaround point." What are these luxuries you speak of? Must be some kind of Seattle thing . . .
Hopefully this article will not jinx me on tonight's ride. I rarely flat but it's never of the "maybe I can make it home" type and there are no cafes to be found. They're quick and if I'm lucky a gas station may be in the vicinity. . . . I also usually flat in the winter when there's more crap on the roads. Nothing like changing a tube in 30 degree weather.
@Stephen
I ride tubs, and the good news there is you can actually ride home on a totally flat tire, although it doesn't do a lot for the handling quality of the bike, à la Van Summeren.
I did hit a computer's hard drive with both wheels and cut through both the front and rear tire and I was very happy to be on tubs that day as I just rode home gingerly.