what a mess

Since my inner tube exploded last week, I’ve been to three different stores to find a replacement tube and tire close enough to what I want. Most stores sell only slickers. That’s no good for the snow riding I plan to do. Tonight I came home equipped with one new mountain bike tire from MEC, one of those hook thingies you need to get the old tire off, and an inner tube that will fit, as opposed to the 700 x skinny one my regular mechanic sold me. …sigh, I thought he knew us. And so did he.

On the walk home I was worried about the extra point two increments the tire was wider than the 1.9 whatevers of the original one. The guy at MEC told me it shouldn’t be a problem, but I forgot to tell him my bike has fenders. He also asked me what kind of valve it used. He showed me the two different types. I’ve seen a YouTube video on how to change a rear tire. I know the guy makes it look easy, and I know that I need a wrench or two to remove a wheel that isn’t quick release. I was ready to get dirty!

I thought it would be a good idea to take my special virgin project to my apartment. It was getting dark, I wouldn’t have much time to do it in the morning, and I’m tired of walking!  I could watch television while changing a tire – how cool! And  in case of reassembly disaster it could all stay sprawled out where it wants until I call for backup or try again another day.

Crankiness already set in before I even unlocked the bike, when I tried to decide if I should go upstairs and drop off my luggage first, and come back for the bike, or if I should save a trip and get it all up at once. Having chosen option two, there was me trying to lift the bike around the corners of the wheelchair/stroller ramp cluttered with apartment building sized recycle bins on their way to the curb, my basket heavy with my knapsack, and the new tire slipping off my shoulder at every step. The tire didn’t do much better slung around the handlebar as  I scrambled out of the elevator, and scrape-clunk-scrape-clunked my poor flat down the hall to my apartment and squeezed in through the narrow vestibule made narrower by a bedside table crammed full of gloves and stuff.

I turned the dirty monster upside down on a blanket in my living room.

I got  a good amount of weather hardened grease under my fingernails, while trying to get untangled from the chain. How does a chain wind around the derailleur? There’s another YouTube search for later. But taking off the tire was pretty easy, once I remembered to undo the brake.

When I realized the tire might fit into the fender, but I definitely chose the wrong valve, I just washed my hands again with dish soap to try to get the smell of rubber off, and had some vodka. What’s another day or two of walking and taking the streetcar?