C
There I was, riding through the city park with a tailwind helping me
to pass half a dozen cars as they crept over the speed bumps, about a
minute and a half from home, when . . .
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
That's how a Slime tube sometimes announces a hole too big to plug.
The abrupt high-pressure spray makes a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh noise as
it whips past the frame or the ground or something.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Huh? I've never had an abrupt flat tire with the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh
this close to home. The goatheads, rock chips, russian olive thorns,
glass, and other debris end about two miles before here. Putting hole
in a tire in the city park is about as likely as getting a flat on a
trainer.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Braking gently, I'm puzzled because my front tire is going
whoosh-whoosh-whoosh, but I can't see any green Slime or even a
flattening tire when I risk a quick peek.
Whoosh . . .
When I stop, silence follows a final gentle whoosh.
Huh? The air should still be hissing out of my front tire.
And my front tire isn't flat at all, even when I lean on it.
So I push my bike forward a little.
A scrap of almost invisible plastic wrap, stuck to my tire with
something dark and unspeakable, makes a little whooshing noise,
exactly like a Slime tube flat, as the tire drags it past the fork and
brake pads.
Cheers,
Carl Fogel
to pass half a dozen cars as they crept over the speed bumps, about a
minute and a half from home, when . . .
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
That's how a Slime tube sometimes announces a hole too big to plug.
The abrupt high-pressure spray makes a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh noise as
it whips past the frame or the ground or something.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Huh? I've never had an abrupt flat tire with the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh
this close to home. The goatheads, rock chips, russian olive thorns,
glass, and other debris end about two miles before here. Putting hole
in a tire in the city park is about as likely as getting a flat on a
trainer.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Braking gently, I'm puzzled because my front tire is going
whoosh-whoosh-whoosh, but I can't see any green Slime or even a
flattening tire when I risk a quick peek.
Whoosh . . .
When I stop, silence follows a final gentle whoosh.
Huh? The air should still be hissing out of my front tire.
And my front tire isn't flat at all, even when I lean on it.
So I push my bike forward a little.
A scrap of almost invisible plastic wrap, stuck to my tire with
something dark and unspeakable, makes a little whooshing noise,
exactly like a Slime tube flat, as the tire drags it past the fork and
brake pads.
Cheers,
Carl Fogel