I was debating whether or not to cycle to work this morning, and had pretty much decided not to when the office called and cancelled my shift. Magically, my legs felt much better and I decided to grab October's 50 km ride. Loaded up the biscuits and drinks, pumped up the tyres, tickled Strava into action, and set off.
All went well to begin with. A bit breezy, but in the right direction for a while, reasonably warm, and a big spring tide made for an exciting ride along the coastal embankment and the riverside paths along the Mersey. I stayed pretty close to the "official" Wirral Circular trail between New Brighton and Eastham Ferry because I was in no hurry and the views were good.
Then I realised I was missing a dropped kerb I should have gone up, turned too late, hit the kerb and blew the front tyre.
Properly blew it, too - a ragged tear about 6 cm long. I picked myself up off the floor, assured the concerned woman nearby that I was OK, and considered my options. I have some toothpaste-tube tyre-boots in the saddlebag, but forgot all about them, and I'm not sure they'd have helped much. Mrs the stupid one was off work, but having lunch over in Liverpool. My emergency note was only a fiver. Hmmm. Happily, my sister was not only off work for the week, but also only about ten minutes away, and with the back seats of her car already flattened. She took me to K Cycles in Eastham, who removed the ruined Conti 4000 and replaced it with a Gatorskin (no 4000 in stock, or maybe I was being a cheapskate, or possibly both). Sis took me back to Eastham Ferry, and the ride was back on.
It was great, too. A few laps of the station carpark to take me over 50 miles, and now it's time for a shower.