Freezing My Knuts Off
Nope, this isn’t a posting about the money in the Harry Potter books.
I was running late this morning when I headed out on Christine for central Newcastle. Less than half a mile down the road, there was a curious ‘pop’ from somewhere near the back wheel, followed fifty yards later by quite a loud hiss.
I’d been congratulating myself of having gone so long without a puncture, and wouldn’t you just know it . . . when I’m in a hurry . . .
I stopped the bike and jumped off, looking at the rear tyre, and doing the usual squeezing to accurately measure the pressure. Odd - everything seemed fine. So where was that noise coming from?
Then I noticed the jet of smoke coming from under the saddle. WTF?
Aha! For the Hartlepool Marina Triathlon, I’d bought one of those natty little carbon dioxide tyre inflators, and wedged it between the saddle rails. This had worked its way a little loose, and the valve had twisted into the open position. Initially I grabbed the nozzle and tried to twist this to shut off the gas. Big mistake - my fingers froze to it! Not too badly though, and I was able to leave only a thin layer of skin on the brass, before grabbing the plastic valve & shut off the gas.
It’s a good job that I hadn’t had the nozzle pointing up - my saddle has a cutout in it (to aid circulation to those parts that otherwise go numb - girls, just don’t ask), and even the thought of getting my undercarriage packed in dry ice is enough to bring a tear to the eye.
Sod’s law being what it was, I can’t believe that I didn’t get a puncture while out today There’s probably not much left in the bottle now, and before I go anywhere else on Christine, I must fit a new one.
- Type: Cycle
- Date: 09/06/2007
- Time: 11:19:27
- Total Time: 1:29:00.00
- Distance: 25 miles
- Average Speed: 16.85 mph