Big Bulge

Queue the humourous quips about lycra and crotches.

So, long time no see (or speak, or type etc). I just sort of forgot and was stuck in a mire of "other things" that needed to be done, after which there was no time, energy or inclination to type brain slurge onto a screen.

But I'm back now, so it's all fine. There there.

You have probably guessed that I'm not talking about tight lycra shorts by now as you know me not to be so crude. I am in fact talking about my first commuting-related puncture which happened to me on the ride home this afternoon. Mercifully it was after the Big Hill that is the final hurdle in my homeward bound leg although it was on the other side of said hill so I didn't get the freewheeling benefits I usually enjoy. As normal I had my headphones in (listening to the handover from Dale "tranquilisers and gin" Winton to the Vampire Mayo) but I still heard an odd scrubbing noise and the subsequent squirmy rear wheel that told me my tyre had decided to have a bit of a relax mid-journey. It was however a lovely sunny afternoon so I strung my helmet and gloves round my bars and began the 10 minute walk home. I suppose if I was looking through a half-full glass I got a few more minutes of rare sunshine.

On inspection at home, it appears that the tyre sidewall has been torn and I can't repair it as quickly as I thought, so I'm without it, probably until Monday now. Ho hum, and just when I'd reached the half century too.