You aren’t going to believe it. Heck, I hardly believe it.
But its true. And, yes, that bike has GOT to go!
Seeing it was a beautiful day, I decided it would be a nice night to
take the bike (that possessed minion of Beezlebub) for a spin. Before I
go, though, thought I, I better fill the tires.
The tires are to be inflated between 40-60 psi. I set my pump to 65 and
it clicked off. I know some always escapes as you take the little thingy
off the thingy there so I thought I was fine.
As I biked along (surprised to see some woman WATERING HER PLANTS–you’d
think we’re in the desert??), I noticed the handling of my bike was a
little off. Since it had been a while since I climbed on this evil
monster, I chalked it up to that and soldiered on.
As always, I was as far away as I had planned to bike when . . .
. . . the back tire blew. BLAM! Sounded like popping a paper bag, but
what was really neat was how it happened in that tunnel going in toward
the K-Mart and Big Lots on 70th and Greenfield. That made it nice and
loud. That way more people could stare at me.
So I walked the thing back to the house, though I don’t know why. Screw
the axle–I’ll never ride that jinxed bastard again–but I did anyway.
In front of me, a woman and her 5 year old son were walking. They got
off the sidewalk, seeing me walking my bike, and figured I would pass
them. She seemed a little uneasy–me walking along behind her. I don’t
know why. She had nothing to fear. I would have tripped and fallen had I
tried to move any faster than a snails pace.
I did have a little difficulty at the intersection of 70 & Greenfield,
because one of the islands there was littered with traffic barricades.
Like every other weekend in West Allis, we have a parade to get ready
for. They might as well build permanent storage there with how often
they drag that junk out there.
Anyway, I got past that and then a little girl (9 or 10) rides past me
on a little dirt bike. You know the type, with little pigtails and an
annoying habit of being right? She says, and I’m not making this up,
“Old guy.” And pedals away–fast. I’m walking my bike, helmet in hand,
and she actually brands me “Old guy.” She probably meant “Old stud” or
something, but you know how little girls get confused.
Got home in complete misery. I hadn’t expected to walk so I was wearing
shoes without my supports for that bad left foot of mine. I did learn
that an achey heel shouldn’t be treated by pouring Jaegermeister on it.
It’s best to drink the Jaegermeister and let it work from within. Though
it really works best on things like colds, flus, insomnia, malaria, etc.
You get the point.
Anyway, if anyone wants to buy the world’s most dangerous bike, I’m
taking offers.
Captain Catastrophe