Sign I’ve Not Yet Turned into a “Real” Bike Rider

Tuesday night, I went out to the garage to mount my new tires on my bike. The old tires had great, but bald as cue balls, and I was eager to run the new rubber.

I decided to start with the back wheel, since – what with the cassette and rear derailleur – it’s messier than the front. Though I removed the old tire quickly enough, I then wasted 45 minutes trying to get the (very, very tight) new tire on the wheel. When I finally succeeded and put the wheel back on the bike, I realized that I’d installed the tire backwards – with the tread direction running opposite to the actual direction of the wheel’s rotation – and that the fully-inflated tire rubbed against my rear fender. Off came the wheel again, so I could take off the fender (two minutes) and reverse the tire (five minutes!). When I inflated the tire, I discovered that I had somehow punctured the tube. Take off the wheel and the tire again, remove the ruined tube, install a new tube, remount the tire, remount the wheel. I probably would have harmed myself if, after all that, the wheel didn’t turn, but thank goodness, it did.

Having learned my lesson from the hour’s struggle with the real wheel, I needed only fifteen minutes to install the new tire on the front wheel – oriented correctly and without ruining another tube.

I’m not eager to do any further wheel work anytime soon.

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