The ever-present problem so far has been flat tires. We have gone through almost 3 or 4 patch kits and we figure he has averaged at least one flat per day (for those of you not counting, that puts us somewhere around 25). The flats have ranged from obvious pinch flats to flats from running the pressure too high, from slow leaks to immediate blowouts, from thorns to mysterious flats that occurred over night while the bike was not moving. We have learned to accept it. A more serious incident occurred, however, the day we were trying to make 100 miles. While coming down a hill fast, Nick hit a dip and his bag flew into his spokes. This wreaked havoc on both his bag and his spokes, as you might have imagined. The bag was torn open with a gaping hole at the seam 6 inches in length. Three spokes were completely sheared in half, and two more came off altogether, including the one that held our computer magnet (for measuring speed, distance, etc.). Gretta went to look for the lost spoke, which she eventually located.
The spoke was obviously beyond repair, but at least we got the computer magnet back. (The screw was all wonky from the blow it took, so we attached it with electrical tape.)
Seamster
Nick set to work with a stopgap sew job using Dominic's leather punch and some p-cord. We were in a hurry to make that 170 km, so he would have to do a more thorough job later on.
That night, in the comfort of his tent, he fixed it good and right. Stiched it up neatly and then sealed it against the elements with some shoe glue. Dominic's sandles completely came apart after using this glue, but at least it served some purpose.
Frank's Bad-Ass Bailing Wire
As for the spokes, this was a more serious matter. We were over 100 miles from the closest bike shop and had no extra spokes. Luckily, our good friend Frank suggested we bring along some of his bailing wire before we left the car in Glendale, Nova Scotia. Didn't seem like it would be useful at the time, but with Dominic's ingenuity, it saved our butts!
Dominic rescued what was left of the shorn spokes, bent them neatly, and then looped some of the bailing wire through the end and down to the hub.
Master mechanic that he is, he managed to tighten the spokes up and basically keep the wheel true. It weren't pretty, but it worked!
This got us several more hundred miles, both north and south, till we got back to Corner Brook and Nick could get his spokes replaced.
The axle was another matter. Though the bike was running fine, it made Nick a bit nervous, especially when we rode tightly together in a pack. Being in front meant that if anything should go wrong, he'd endanger the ones behind; being in back meant limited visibility and a higher chance of hitting a rock or pothole.
Getting to the southwestern coast of Newfoundland turned out to be a mixed blessing. It is a remote area, which meant there are few roads, which meant we'd be off our bikes for a few days while we traveled by ferry. But being remote also meant we'd be further away from a bike shop than ever. What we wanted was a new axle that was ready for quick release. (Quick release makes getting the wheel off easy, and with all of Nick's flats, it was certainly convenient.) We had a day of rest in Ramea (for which our legs were most grateful), and on the advice of our hosts, we posted a sign on the fire station bulletin board asking if anyone had an axle "today only!"
Ramea is a small town, population 462, but within a few hours, a neighbor showed up with exactly the part we needed. Well, not exactly the part. It was not quick release, so putting your wheel on and taking it off required a wrench, but it would certainly do the trick. We'd just put it on and hope that Nick's flat tire problems would miraculously subside. With a little coaching from Dominic and Gretta, the bonified mechanics of the trip, Nick removed the broken axle, reset the cone on the new one, repacked the bearings, and voila! Solid wheel. Good as new.
Of course, he flatted several times before making it 15 kilometers, and on one occasion he failed to remember where he had placed the wrench. His bags were completely torn apart and his clothes strewn all over the side of the road before he was able to find it. Then he faced the difficult task of navigating the wrench between his bags, rack, and derailleur into an almost impossible position to unscrew the bolt and remove the wheel. You can imagine the joy this brought him...
Luckily, Dominic and Gretta were patient and helpful, and after the 4th flat, they solved the day's flat tire problem source (there seems to be a new one everyday)--the rim tape (a piece of sturdy material that sits in the rim and protects the tube from puncturing against the spokes) was having trouble staying centered. We had removed the underlying piece of rim tape during the axle fixing (there were two, which seemed unecessary) and left the newer one, reasoning that two were not necessary.
It was then, 4 flats later on the side of the road, that we realized that the remaining rim tape was of one of the thousands of infuriating products that should come labeled "Not Fit For Use." (Available at a store near you.) No matter, though. We had electrical tape. Tape is tape, right? Whether or not this logic was reasonable, it was our only option. So Dominic and Gretta neatly layered the rim with electrical tape and put the original rim tape back on top.
They did such a pretty job even Nick had hope it would solve the problem. Our hopes took a serious blow, however, when his tire deflated within 5 minutes. We eventually decided the cause was not the rim tape, so we patched it up and rode on. 150 kilometers and no flats later, we are satisfied placing that last one into the category of "undetermined," of which there have been many.
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