My bike got a flat last night. More of a slow leak.
Rode to dinner. After dinner, the front tire was flat. Crappers. Fortunately, Kate had a pump in her car which was only a few blocks away, and she pumped up my tire. Thanks Kate!
The tire stayed inflated the whole ride home, but was flat again in the morning.
What to do? Fix it, obviously. But I didn't want to ride my bike to a shop, and have them say come back tomorrow, or something, and then have the tire go flat on the ride home. No, sir, that sounds like a bad plan. The better plan, thought I, was to take the tire off, and just bring the tire to a shop. And the even better plan, thought I, was to figure out where the puncture was, since the tube was off the wheel, anyway. So I established, registered, and opened Toby's Bike Repair Shop. So what if I don't know what I'm doing? Knowledge has never been a prerequisite for doing something, especially not in this country.
A baking pan full of water later, and the puncture was found and Sharpied.
Of course, this was all a bit silly, and a bit academic, because I don't have a bike tube repair kit. Ah, but I do have a repair kit for my self-inflating camping pad. So, you know, why not, right? I mean, come on, the puncture is tiny, tiny, tiny. So I glued it up with the glue that came with the sleeping pad.
We'll see how things look in two hours when the glue dries.
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