On Repair: oh, my aching hands and knees

So, other than my annual 44-mile jaunts to raise money for Roswell Park Cancer Institute (the hospital that treated both of my parents and my older sister), the poor velo has been sitting in my sister's garage since we sold my childhood house. The first year we dug it out for the Ride for Roswell, it was full of mouse poop. You would never believe how smelly such tiny feces can be until you're enclosed in a tiny space with it. The next year it was a bit cleaner, but all the tires needed air. Let's face it, you leave tires alone for too long and they just give up all hope.

This brings me to my latest revelation: I hate Presta valves. Oh, it's faster to let the air out, sure. But who cares about letting the air out? How often does anyone want to do that versus putting air in? And for putting air in, there's nothing like a traditional Schrader (that's the kind you find on car tires, you know, the kind that air compressors naturally fit?).


When I lived at home with my dad, I used to be something of a bike guru. He taught me to fix nearly anything. And for the last few days, I've been kneeling on frigid concrete feeling absolutely ashamed about the fact that I seem to have forgotten nearly everything. It took me way too long to wrangle the hand pump into working with the schraeder valve on the front right tire. But when I moved over to the left front tire, it was a Presta valve. The clever little hand pump had a "universal valve system" that only required me unscrewing part and flipping a few bits around to work with any valve. Instead, I flipped things around, pinched my fingers many times, and bent the crap out of the presta valve.

No problem, I thought. My father was a total girlscout when it came to preparedness, so he had a sack full of tubes in the trunk (which is actually a space in the front nose-cone). I found one with my beloved schrader valve. Of course, this also required me to remember how to remove a bike tire. I had the handy tool. I knew it involved leverage. I had some punk song playing over my headphones to motivate me.

Half an hour later, I called my sister. "Do you remember how to change a bike tire?" I asked. It's a hard process to describe over the phone--and this bike's not like other bikes. I had managed to leverage a tiny section of tire over the rim's edge. I knew this was the first step. "Slide the tool around the rim to get the rest of the tire out" she said. I looked down at my blistering hands and back up at the two tire-removal tools wedged between the rubber and steel. "I'll figure it out. No worries." I tried another ten minutes before calling a local friend who rides bikes often. He didn't answer. Eventually a tiny voice in the back of my head made its way through the music blasting through my headphones. That curved bit, VJ, what would that fit? Why, the rim, of course. Yeah, I'd been using the tool upside down. Once I twisted it 180 degrees I was able to pop that tire off with only minimal frustration.

I slid in the schrader tube, then tried to pump it up a bit before pinching the tire back into place. That was one memory that stayed: Dad saying "inflate the tube a little bit before you put the tire back in place, or it might get pinched." So I pumped. And I pumped. I was sure I must have just screwed up the pump during my attempts to convert it to presta. I took it apart. I reassembled it. I pumped and pumped and pumped. I actually went back home and got my own pump, returned to the garage where I'm keeping the velo, and tried again. I wrangled the tube back out from under the tire and tried pumping it free. I took the headphones off. Hiiisssssss. Schrader tube had a crack right next to the valve. I looked over at the sack of tubes, thought about the patch kit, and packed everything up. I would start fresh and just buy all new tubes. Bike shops never seem to be open at 9 pm, though.

So the next day I managed to acquire new tubes. The guy at BC Bicycles was friendly and helpful, offering me a converter, since all he had on hand were Presta valves, and I had already confessed my distaste for them. Still, I wanted to get the velo on the road, so I took the converter, the tubes, and went on my merry way. Of course, since I have other work to do besides failing at fixing weird bikes, I didn't get around to trying to install the new tubes until today. So after work and a meeting, I headed to the garage. Thankfully, the tire was still free. All I had to do was wrangle the new tube in, make sure it was well secured with a nut (since presta valves are thinner and wiggle a bit much in the holes drilled in most rims), get that converter situated, and pump it up.

I've learned a few things already. Bring a cushion or something so you don't have to kneel or sit on cold concrete. Always assume it will take you longer to do anything than you expect or want. Bring fingerless gloves. Binghamton spring is cold. Oh, and read the tube size off the tire when you take it in. Why? So you don't get four 20 x 1.25/1.50 tubes when what you really need are 20 x 1/8. D'oh! Oh, and check the receipt to see if the bike shop's number is on there, since they close at 6 and you'll be guaranteed to hit every single red light on your way home to look up the number and every single one on the way there.

Still, I made it just in time, got the right size tubes, and got the left front tire finally fixed up. I also had to take the back end off so I could pump up the rear tire. But, the velo's finally road-ready! Of course, I have to drive into work tomorrow so I can take my car in right after for an oil change. Maybe I'll get out for a quick ride in the morning, and if not, the weekend looms!