The Tuesday group seemed to have grown again this week, so much so that we have now migrated to the far side of the Narrows overpass. One advantage of this is that the acoustics are fantastic, so we can actually hear what Pete was saying rather than having to try to lip read through his mo. 

As I walked outside this morning I knew it was going to be a great ride, I just didn’t realise at the time that I would have an extra hour of riding up my sleeve.

It all began with Pete calling for even house numbers to go first. Unfortunately for me both my apartment and street number are odd, so there was no way I could go first. We got rolling at a steady 33km/h with a healthy tail wind. So it was surprising to hear the whole group quiet. Perhaps everyone was as tired as I was and therefore didn’t feel like talking. In fact, we stayed quiet past UWA, Steves, Bowling Club and Christchurch before we all woke up and began to acknowledge the person in lycra 3in to our left/right.

The sweeping decent to Freshwater Bay was a nice sight this morning. I’m sure others agree as we seemed to split on the way down. Okay, this is where the blog stops re-telling what you did and explains my route home. Around a hundred meters before the Mosman Park Hill I was fortunate enough to have a flat. After I negotiated my way to the side of the road Pete checked that I was okay. I promptly sent him on his way knowing that I had everything I needed and I didn’t want to make everyone late for work. Bike upside down, wheel off, tyre levers, check for any shrapnel, new tube……….no C02. How? Six months ago when I came back from the US with my bike I volunteered to dispose of all my C02 at the airport to save Qantas a crash landing because of a C02 canister (or rather to save my own bike from any damage). Since then I haven’t changed a tyre or remembered that I didn’t have any C02. Not to worry there are a million cyclists doing the Mosman Park Hill daily. So you can imagine my surprise when I was waiting on the side of the road, everything ready to go with my wheel on already, for no less than 20 mins. Where was everyone? It was a nice spot to wait, but 20 mins was a little to much picturesque at 6:30am. Eventually a small group passed, lent me their C02 which somehow split my tube. So I kindly asked my helpers friend for his tube and a pump. He agreed and changed it for me. I’m not sure if that was because he wanted to get going quickly or if he could see what I would have done with my bike if I went through another tube.

So off I went, trying to make up as much time as possible by using my tri bars which I hadn’t taken off since the weekend. Yes, I know that going for a run after a ride is a breach of the cycling rules, which is probably why I was punished this morning. Shortcuts were on the agenda this morning, so on top of my flat tyres I was cheating myself. My final shortcut would take me down Canning Hwy from Preston Point Rd. Traffic wasn’t too bad so I would be safe. But then ANOTHER FLAT. I’d already checked the tyre last time for any glass etc, so it must have been the impossible two flats in a day. So, without any air or tubes I was well and truly stuck. Walking down Canning Hwy I thought I could a) get a taxi, b) convince a bus driver that my bike was in fact a pram and would therefore be allowed to ride on the bus, hopefully for free, c) call a friend/brother. But whilst this was going through my head a group of 70 riders (I suggested they split based on birthdays) stoped at the lights just before the Melville Cricket Grounds. As I was walking with my head down I wasn’t looking at who I might know, but to my surprise someone called my name. It was my running coach Raf (PLUG: from the Running Centre in West Perth). He quickly gave me his spare tube and pump. Perfect timing as I was about to throw my bike into the Canning Hwy traffic. Although the valve on the tube was a little short for my rims I made it work, got back on the bike and had a steady ride home. I decided to work on my pedalling technique to ensure the ride was worth getting out of bed for. So arriving home an hour late with commute cyclists everywhere I actually felt great.

Moral of the story. There are generous people out there willing to give up 5 mins to change a tyre, give you there pump or to ask if you’re okay when you look like you’re trying to throw your bike in a dumpster. From a SPR perspective it is always handy to obey the Ride Etiquette (especially the part about spares/pumps), not just for the benefit of others but yourself as well.

Thanks to the random cyclists for helping me out this morning, it has given me a warm and fuzzy community spirit feeling.