First Puncture

The Overgraduate had a humbling encounter with the dignity of manual labour yesterday. This was the government's fault of course, because it hasn't fixed the bloody pot-holes on our roads. What am I paying my taxes for?

The dream machine (my new push bike for those of you who haven't been paying attention) suffered a puncture on Friday. This would of course happen on a ride when I had managed to forget my phone and I wasn't carrying a spare tube. The encouraging aspect of the longish walk home was the number of fellow  cyclists who stopped to offer me help. Rather uplifting.




complex mechanical procedure requiring
high skill and patience 

  So yesterday I set about changing the inner tube. I should have had a spare in stock but I would have to confess to having proceeded thus far on the vain assumption that punctures are things which happen to other people. Stage 1: Halfords where a very cheerful and helpful young man directs me through the bewildering choice of tubes. Stage 2: service manual at hand I gingerly remove the wheel - this is bloody marvellously simple - have never used quick-release mechanisms before, never having owned a 21st century bike. Stage 3: Lever off the tyre. Again, stunningly easy, Overgraduate feeling rather blase about the whole procedure. Stage 4: remove the tube and insert the new one. Overgraduate now getting distinctly cocky. Stage 5: attempt to inflate the tyre. This is surely the simple bit. Only a particularly stupid child could fail. Stage 6: this pump appears to suck. Get mildly flustered. Stage 7: hurl useless sodding pump acros the garden. Any possibility of user error discounted. Stage 8: drive to shop and buy new pump. Stage 9: new pump works but so, it seems, does the old one. Possibility of user error now reassessed. Stage 9: finish the job and blame government.

PS. Also bought a saddle bag to carry spare tube and tools in to avoid future humiliation.