On Thursdays, I generally have an (relatively) early meeting that I have to wake up for. Last Thursday, was somewhat cold, and I didn’t feel like biking into work, so I decided to drive. Lo and behold, when I got to my car, I found my rear left tire flat to the ground. So I was sitting there, in the middle of the street, changing it. Usually I’m okay with doing man-stuff like this. But it frustrated me a little. I tire wouldn’t come off with all the bolts undone. I had to really wrestle it off. And of course, I was worried about driving 50 miles to work too on the spare.
In the end it was fine. There was a nail in the tire, and I went back to the place I bought it, and they patched it for free. Nice! Here’s a photo snapped from my phone.
50 miles for spare isn’t bad so long as with slower speed.
good job.
We had few flat tires. One of them was at a park. Exited the park at no exit gate.
Who did that? Of course, it was Dad 🙂