Re-Tired

Headed out on Sunday morning for a long ride. Got an early start on a hot day. Legs felt fresh. Didn't have anyplace I needed to be or anything I needed to get done. Perfect - I'm thinking it's time for some longer miles, some hills, and a nice solid ride. On August 3, I'm doing the Susan G. Komen "Ride for the Cure" in honor of my late friend Pam who lost her life to breast cancer a couple of years back. I signed up for this earlier this year as a motivator, and to honor a good friend. My base goal was the 30, but I quickly set my sights on the 60 mile ride.

A quick run out Huron River Drive to Dexter is followed by a nice smooth roll into Chelsea. So far, so good. Not much wind. Body feels great. But this is all familiar territory. I've done a shorter loop that includes Chelsea, but this time, I want to head north on M52, up to North Territorial Road (North T to us locals) which I'll take back to Huron River Drive and then home. I know it's a pretty ride, plus there are some solid hills. The Komen route has some pretty rolling terrain, so I need to work on surviving hills.

M52 goes quite nicely. I'm maintaining a solid pace. Though long at times, the climbs are manageable. There's a lot more ascent than descent on this stretch. But it's all feeling good. Plus, this part of Washtenaw County is really very scenic. A super nice ride. I make good time as I swing onto North T. And then...

F*ck me. Chip seal.

Few things strike fear into the cyclist than this evil road re-surfacing. It's cheaper, so strapped County road commissions are using it a lot on rural roads. But it SUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKSSSS to ride on. Initially, it's nearly like riding on gravel. Scary and shifty and completely uncomfortable. As it wears in and firms up, it's more like riding on one continuous vibration. You never really notice how unpleasant it is until you hit conventional asphalt. Then you realize the stuff was loosening your fillings.

But I make the best of it. My pace slows a bit and my riding is a bit more tentative - especially in corners on descents. As I'm riding, I start to wonder how long a set of road bike tires should last. And are mine going to protect me on this road full of sharp cinder. My trusty Michelin Krylion Carbons have been on my bike since 2006. I don't even want to speculate on the mileage I have on them.

And shortly, we have the answer. Yup, flat tire. OK, no big. I've worked on bikes all my life and spent several years working for bike shops. I've changed about a gazillion tires on every conceivable sort of bike. So I find a shady spot under a tree and get to work. Naturally, I find the my tire levers never made it into my saddle bag when I switched to the Fizik system. F*ck me, again. A quick try by hand yields no results, so I switch over to the screwdriver on my multi-tool along with the trusty dollar bill to protect the rim. This goes pretty well and shortly the tire is re-installed, inflated, and I'm on my way.

Now you know it just can't end here. Otherwise, I'd never have bothered to write this entry.

After another 3-4 miles I notice the familiar squishy feeling from the rear wheel. A quick check reveals that I have yet ANOTHER flat. This is a more significant problem. I'm 15+ miles from home. So I start running through the mental list of potential rescuers. Wife's travelling. Hadn't seen my cycling next door neighbor this weekend. Maybe my other neighbors, but they were in the midst of a yard project when I left. Training partner Josh is likely out on a ride of his own and lives a decent distance away. Ah-HA! Schultzy - my fishing guide buddy I know he's home as I'd coordinate a meet-up to get my boat back from him. Fortunately he's around, free, and happy to come get me. And, as a bonus he hitches up my boat and he delivers me, my bike, and the boat all home. Bingo! It's good to have good friends you can count on.

Back at home, showered and rested a bit, I do some online research and find the latest equivalent Michelin tire. A quick call to the local bike shop secures two (in stylish red accent, no less) and within the hour I'm back in the basement shop replacing them. Naturally, I find a sharp cinder that's penetrated the casing that I missed during my on-road swap.

Last night was my first ride on the new skins. In a word: Wow! I needed new tires. Badly. Lesson learned: new tires every five years.