I like to sneak away for a lunch ride once or twice a week. It clears my head and makes me feel better about the occasional cervesa. The rides always end up rushed, though, because I need to get out, put in 20, and get back to the grind.
Hurrying tends to causes problems. For example, in my rush to kit up last week I forgot to throw my pump in my back pocket. And as you would expect I got five miles into my ride and flatted, thanks to one of Albuquerque’s notorious goatheads.
These ultra-tough, multi-barded stickers are a huge nuisance for riders here in the Land of Enchantment. They’re everywhere. They grow on a weed that likes the dry, hot climate. They will go through almost anything if you hit em just right. Even the Stan’s in my tube was no match for this thorn.
My first stop was the local Albuquerque police substation just a few hundred feet up the road. I was hoping there were bike cops. Unfortunately, I ran head-long into a grouchy secretary who claimed all the bike cops were gone.
I then called my mother-in-law for a ride, but she was at tennis. I called my father-in-law, but he didn’t answer. My regular riding partner was in the middle of a photo shoot and my brother (I’ll remember this bro) said he was busy.
Running out of time, and losing my patience, I called a cab. They arrived in 10 minutes and shuttled me and my poor bike back to the house.
It was a $15 dollar mistake I’ll never make again.
Finger crossed.
