You are reading a single comment by @StandardPractice and its replies.
Click here to read the full conversation.
London Fixed Gear and Single-Speed is a community of predominantly fixed gear and single-speed cyclists in and around London, UK.
This site is supported almost exclusively by donations. Please consider donating a small amount regularly.
@StandardPractice
This weekend I had a wonderful time riding all around the South-East, covering about 100km in all. Where did I get a puncture? Tottenham Court Fucking Road, about a mile from home on the way back. Oh well I thought, at least it wasn't during the ride per se. Being replete with repair paraphernalia, I was only too glad to stop at Bedford Square for twenty minutes to fix it. The offending hole was miniscule so I naturally decided to fix it, rather than replace the whole tube, with my Tip Top kit. Satisfied with the work I subsequently rode on. Alas, by Mornington Crescent I had gone soft again, much to my extreme annoyance. Luckily it was a slow enough puncture that I was able to top it up with air and quickly get home.
At this point I should say that I have been very lucky with punctures, only having had two (now three) in the last year. In the past (with MTBs and BMXs also) I have always tried to fix them, as binning the tube, whilst sometimes necessary, strikes me as defeatist and a bit obnoxious. However, I can barely remember a time when my repairs have been successful. I buy good equipment generally, I read the instructions and usually I'm not such a total 'tard with practical matters. Furthermore I have memories of going through the procedure with my old man as a child, on my Raleigh Rebel (hazy, nostalgic and touching memories).
Never though have I had any confidence whatsoever in it. The whole thing is fraught with supposedly simple tasks that completely bemuse me. Exactly how '"sparingly" should the glue be applied? How soon should it be ridden on? Why is the sandpaper so coarse? Are my hands too greasy? What the fuck is that yellow crayon for? Furthermore, the accompanying instructions, a flake of paper, tends to have the must reduced iconographic information imaginable, as if intended to serve as a trailside reminder for adrenalin-dazzled racers. As if to further deepen the enigma, my peers (that probably includes you lot) and bike-shop-higher-level-beings have always assured me that it's 'a piece of piss' and 'stronger than the tube itself', respectively. Conclusion? Puncture repair is a myth. Either that or I'm more incompetent than I realise.