Tire Talk

by Dave Preston

With a sense of irony and synchronicity, or some other combination of big words, I bring you a continuation of David Hough’s article in SR from last month. You see, while he was submitting his article on what to do about a flat tire, I was "researching" the topic by attracting a long thin nail to the rear tire of my Triumph.

In all fairness, I can’t complain. Having ridden a few hundred thousand miles on two wheels since that first warm sunny day in 1968, I’ve had remarkably few confrontations with flat tires. I’ve also ridden 250 different bikes for Cycle Barn in the past 6 years and never suffered a flat - until last month.

Not that I’m utterly without experience. I’ve witnessed a nail in my rear tire before – a sight that creates a feeling like a meteor dropping through your bowels – SO depressing!

My first nail experience was at some motorcycle road races at Westwood Raceway near Vancouver – many years ago before this precious gem of a racetrack was consumed by the voracious appetite of a real estate speculator, who traded a historic track and a terrific venue for something as paltry as… many millions of dollars. Go figure.

Anyway... We were getting ready to ride home at the end of another fine day of watching road racing when someone noticed the silver tip of a nail sticking out of my rear tire.

When this happens, you have a choice. You can choose to ride anyway and hope the air is not leaking, or is leaking slowly enough to get you home, or slowly enough for a series of stops at gas stations with air hoses (another endangered species), OR, you can pull the nail out.

If you choose option B, there can be two results. One is the sickening "hissss" that tells you the nail had penetrated all the way through and you are now in a bit of a pickle. The second is a roaring silence in your ears as you pull out what turns out to be just the head of a nail and there is … nothing.

In my case, a crowd of about twenty people gathered around to share my agony. Rather than ride home thinking about that nail every mile (back in those days there was virtually no traffic on Highway 9 and we rode at a pace that would get your license and motorcycle confiscated today) I decided it would be better to pull it and hope. Better a real problem (Sunday evening, foreign country, flat tire, etc.) at a standstill than a catastrophic rear tire failure at speed.

I crouched down behind the bike. Tension filled the air. As my pliers pulled out the nail head, the silence was gripping. And the silence went on… and on… until people began to guffaw and call me the luckiest person in the world, albeit in more colorfully descriptive language. Fair enough, as I have never denied it. We rode home without incident.

The second time was in my garage a few years ago, getting ready for work. There sat my pristine Kawasaki ZRX, and oops – what’s that sticking out of the tread? Aghghghgh! Once again, however, the problem occurred with the bike parked, not at speed, and here the decision was easier, in part because of where I work. Cycle Barn has friendly lot techs, and I knew I could ask them to grab a trailer and go fetch my bike. I pulled on the head of the nail, and it was followed by …the rest of the nail, and all of the air. Oh well – all it cost was money, and I got a new rear tire a few thousand miles sooner than I had intended.

In Sequim I was on a Cycle Barn club ride with two dozen others when my friend Rob noticed the metallic dot zipping around my rear tire as we cruised along. Once again, a choice to be made. The tire was not leaking, visibly or audibly, (although I did not run spit on it to check – a good technique) and I was almost thinking of leaving it, except we were heading up Hurricane Ridge, which can be challenging. I hate to have something big taking up brain space when I ride – I need all the brain I have at all times, thank you.

While I pondered, THREE people mentioned that they had tire repair kits, and two of them had electronic air compressors. Wonderful! Clearly, then, I should pull the nail.

Presto – someone hands me a very nice Leatherman-style tool. Two dozen people gather around, joined by an interested car person – he had a compressor with him as well. The group intake of breath as the head of the nail is pulled – the suspense as the nail comes out – and out – and out – ooooh – it’s a long one – hsssssssss!

Shucks! Well, now we have the opportunity to conduct a Cycle Barn roadside tire repair seminar. My thanks to my friends, who not only had the gear and explained how it worked but forced ME to do the actual repair. Such hands-on knowledge will come in handy some day when I have to do it again.

With the reamer tool, the goopy stuff, and insertion and removal – well, it actually takes less time to do it than to type this sentence. Hooked up a friend’s air compressor to his battery and within five minutes - ready to go!

Only one problem, and that was my fault. Yet another of my many friends handed me an intimidating serrated knife that looked like just the thing for defeating a pack of terrorists, and instructed me to cut off the excess of the repair strand sticking out of the tire. His calm voice said, "Just be careful not to cut your finger…" as I did exactly that and bloodied up the repair.

By this point you’ll not be surprised that ANOTHER friend handed me a band-aid. I think these people know me.

The tire retained air for the rest of a wonderful day’s ride, and I had it replaced with a new one the next week. Some will argue that the repair, unless it is through the sidewall, will last for the life of the tire. Might be. I don’t like to add risk when I don’t have to, so a new tire it is.

What have I learned?

I’m unlikely to make it another 40 years without a flat tire.

There are lots of tire repair kits and electronic air compressors suitable for this purpose that are designed for motorcycle use.

However, I ride a Triumph Speed Triple. Merely finding sufficient room for an extra pair of gloves can be a challenge, even with a tank bag. A compressor, the repair kit, the tool, the knife, and (in my case) first aid kit…

If you have a bike and/or skill set like mine, the only thing to do is - always ride with my friends!