The first day on the bike and about two hours into the day, on a gentle climb, ok, i had the bike in granny gear, so not so gentle i wasn't sweating my butt off, and i get a flat. and, i did not pack a spare tube, patches; yes, tubes; no. i'm on route 54 heading to jefferson city and at that point about thirty miles from it. i get off the bike, walk the rest of the way up the climb, see that an exit was not far ahead--the road is two lanes, divided highway, plenty shoulder and great - for the bike... so, when i see a church with a large tree and teeter totter in a front yard playground, ohhhh yeah, shade. now, why i didn't purchase a tube while standing in front of a stack of them while in REI last week, i don't know. but i did buy a patchkit, at REI, right next to the stack of TUBES. AND, i also knew that the tire on the back rim was very difficult to remove, previously breaking several plastic "tire-irons" and just not coming off without a skrewdriver. Also, on a nastier, body functioning side of things (cover your eyes if you are squeemish) i had to go number two real bad. like, a dishwasher was running on my insides and the laundery was done and didn't think it could wait in tub any longer... that kinda' "gotta go" gotta goes. SO, imagine that as i'm pushing the bike dragging the 60 or so pounds in the fully packed Chariot. i guess you could say it was then that fate would provide an old, i do mean old, Out House on the corner of the church lot. i parked the bike near the teeter totter and dug out my TP and headed for the OT. it had not been used in years, as best as i could determine by the jurassic-like nature of what clearly laid in the hole. and i mean clearly because, if you've ever seen inside an Out House, you know they're normaly dark, cept the light that creeps in through the loose boards. so, everything was intact except the back bottom of the House. so, under the seat, and directly behind it, so, yeah, facing the traffic zipping past on 54.

back to the bike, i used the teeter totter like a bike stand and removed the tire and then it all began. i had to use my Leatherman and the round end of my fork to get the tire off and then to get it back on. each time i did this, i created another hole. at the church, i did not know this. it just seemed like my pump wasn't working, so, i used google maps on the phone with GPS [geek joy] and saw that i was about five miles from a town. thinking air at the station would take care of it, i started walking. at the station, air went in, air came out. so off with the tire again and then again and then until even after a six-dollar can of FIX A FLAT, nothing was working.

it was past noon and soon two O'clock at which time i could have already been cruising down the katy trail, instead i was feeling silly just visulizing the wall of TUBES at REI. the problem was the tire, and, i also just believed the rim blew too. i did another search on the phone and found J&D Bike shop in downtown Jefferson City. i rode the next 25 miles without stopping except for two lights coming into the city. a time and temp on a bank or shop read 93 degrees, and i'm guessing 100% humidity. Once inside at J&D's and coolind down, the shop took over and got me back on the road in no time. they drilled out the presta valve and put in a thorn proof tube with a shrader valve and a new tire. While i was in the shop, i met Joe and his son Brandon who fed me bottle after bottle of gatorade. they even left one in the Chariot while i was inside paying for the work. very cool.

So in the photo, and this is terrible of me - so if J&D Bike shop gets on here, fix this for me. i was rattling on about the skating and first day on the bike and the katy trail ahead and asked about the shop, which has been in business since around 1974, and i didn't ask for names. So pictured here are, The Owner, and his first in command. Thanks J&D for getting me back on the road and thanks Joe and Brandon--enjoy the Katty Trail when you get a chance, it was a great ride.

J&D quick fix. Back on the road., originally uploaded by joerehana.