Of course, I didn’t have any sort of repair kit with me, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have known what to do with it.
The idea of our rides is that we’ll do them together, so Steve has the repair kit and tools, but I was riding by myself today because he was under the weather.
I also originally had my repair kit, spare tube, etc, in a saddle bag, which Steve bought me before the bike arrived. Who knew that when it did, I would be so short even on a 45 frame that the saddle is banged down flush with the rack and I can’t fit a saddle bag of any sort?
I’ve been looking for a small, neat handlebar bag to carry my toolkit instead, but it will have to wait until next month.
In another irony, yesterday Steve changed the tyres on HIS bike to puncture-resistant Marathons. But I’m the one who’s been living in fear of a flat, so my choice was the even more puncture-resistant Marathon Pluses, which are still sitting in their packaging waiting to be installed.
I can guess what we’ll be doing tomorrow, then…
Of course, breaking down like this wasn’t any sort of issue. After realising what had happened, I pushed my bike up to the nearest farmhouse and asked if I could use the phone. As it happened, they turned out to be English. I phoned home (I was only some 5km away) and a few minutes later, Steve picked me up.
I have been deliberately riding around here in 5km loops so that I’m never further from the house than I can walk, should something go wrong with the bike, but I’m quite glad I didn’t have to push 22.75kg up a couple of steep hills to get home again.
A shame, though, as I was rather enjoying my sunlit evening ride after a day of mostly drizzle.