Back in 1976 my housemate Scott was planning an around-the-world cycling tour, self-supported of course. Scott was a total fucking animal on the bike; formerly a middle- and long-distance runner, he switched over to cycling and didn’t miss a beat. He also commuted everyday to work regardless of weather to NASA Ames Research in Mountain View from Portola Valley. He rode me off his wheel all the time. Let’s just say he was very fit and quite capable to riding endlessly.
Scott approached his tour planning the way he approached physics, which was his training: analytically, in-depth, and thoroughly. He bought a high-end Raleigh frameset—was it a Professional?—and then had a host of eyelets custom brazed onto the frame so he could attach his accessories. He wasn’t about to ride some touring boat; instead he had to have a racing bike. He picked out all the parts. I can’t recall if he built his own wheels but I do recall he tie-and-soldered the spokes himself so that the wheels would be very durable for touring. He designed and sewed his own nylon aero touring bags with strutted hollow aluminum tubing that he had welded to his specs. He didn’t need racks because the aluminum bag struts were essentially the racks built into the bags, The coup de maître was he made his own fenders—actually we did—he, Robin his girlfriend, and I—out of hollow aluminum tubing we had to custom order from—was it Alcoa?—in twelve-foot lengths. We cut and bent them ourselves using ad hoc tools around the house so that they were radiused perfectly and not crimped. Then we had to get the struts welded on, which we had also cut, bent, and flattened ourselves. Whew. His bike was truly one of a kind. (Robin and I also made fenders for our bikes.)
Scott was a sew-up snob. In those days decent clincher tires were non-existent. So, of course he was going to tour on sew-up tires, which was a completely mad idea because sew-ups were not easy to repair. They were also expensive, the tread was usually thin so they’d wear out quickly, and they were narrow, the widest about 28mm. They had to be glued onto the rim, which meant if you had to replace a flat tire, you didn’t have good rim adhesion with the replacement tire. Flat resistance? They didn’t have any. Oh, and he was planning on carrying more than 70 pounds of gear. So this was his quandary: how could he do a tour on the tires he liked? He was absolutely resistant to the idea of using clinchers because at that time they were abysmal and clincher rims were heavy and not as strong as tubular rims. (Keep in mind that most tubular rims were designed around racing. They were stronger than clincher rims on a per gram basis. There were stronger clincher rims but they were boat anchors and rode ponderously.)
The problem of flat tires has to this day not been completely solved. Bicycle tire and wheel technologies revolve around [pun intended] reducing the number of flats but not eliminating them completely, hence patches, tire sealant, plug kits. A much older technology, solid tires, has been discarded by all but wheelchair and wagon wheel makers. Solid tires are exactly that: solid rubber. No air means no flats (although you’re actually trading one problem for another, but that’s not germane at the moment). Unbelievably you can still buy solid bicycle tires. They are heavy and they ride only slightly better than a wooden wagon wheel. They last about 3,000 miles, which isn’t very much. Plus, try stretching one onto your rim—it’s going to be really hard! Roger and I had to replace worn solid tires on our wheelchair; it was an effort we barely were able to do with four hands and a lever bar.
Scott happened to espy an ad in one of the bicycle rags of that era. I can’t remember which one but it was probably Bicycling magazine. An engineer had developed a foaming solution and pumping system to inject into a sew-up tire and upon injection the solution would foam up and solidify leaving you with an ‘airless’ tire that wouldn’t flat. I can’t recall how he did business exactly but I am guessing you sent him your tires, he injected them, and then sent them back to you. I also recall that the hardness of the tire, equivalent to air pressure, could be controlled by how he injected the solution.
Scott became intrigued and contact this guy. Again I don’t recall the details but I am guessing Scott sent him a couple of tires, he got them back and tried them, and was satisfied. He rode them with abandon and completely ignored broken glass, goathead thorns, and metal fragments. No flats. You could see wires and fragments embedded in the tire and they didn’t affect the tire.
My recollection was that the tires were pretty damn hard, which they would need to be to support all the weight they would have to bear for thousands of miles. But a sewup pumped to 90 PSI feels pretty hard too. They weren’t light but they were lighter than other solid tires. More important than the weight to Scott was the ride quality. But since they weren’t solid rubber—they did have air or some other gas included in the mixture, they rode better than a solid tire. Were they equivalent to a Clement sewup? No way. But Scott felt the trade-off was reasonable given that he wouldn’t have a flat problem anymore too.
Scott went about arranging to have ALL the sewups he had bought for his tour sent to be treated. Scott had bought dozens of Clement Campionato del Mondo tires in advance of his tour. These sewups were top of the line and the most expensive you could get at the time save track sewups, which was probably around $45 per tire. (He almost certainly got a bulk discount.)
Eventually it came to light that the engineer was willing to sell the equipment to Scott. Reading between the lines, probably he wasn’t getting the amount of business from bike owners that he wanted, which shouldn’t be too surprising since the reason we were riding sewups was for speed and ride quality, not durability or convenience. They made a deal and he oriented Scott on the injection procedure, and then one day the equipment showed up at the house. Scott wouldn’t have to send his tires to him at all. He could do it himself.
That was a very long digression to the focus of this post, which is that we all still have to deal with flat tires and maintaining our tires. We’re not like Scott, willing to ride solid tires. Bicycle tires require a lot more care than car tires. If you own a car, you likely already have a mindset that there’s really nothing to be done except when the warning light in your dash says you have a problem such as low pressure in a tire. Spare tire? Cars don’t even come with one anymore. When was the last time you changed a flat tire on your car? Now we merely call road service to do it lest we sully our manicured hands. Do you even know how to change a flat tire on your car? The dealer or the repair shop lets you know when your tires are worn out and need to be replaced. (Unless you skip maintenance and then you find out you need a new tire when you skid out of control on a wet road.) Unfortunately bicycle tires aren’t that worry-free.
Bicycle tire maintenance is pretty simple. They all use air, so flats are always going to be a possibility. How you handle a flat is dependent on the specific technology you’re using—tubes, tubeless, tubular (old farts only), tire liners, type of tube if any. Most likely you’re riding clincher tires with tubes. If you’re more au courant, you’re running tubeless clincher tires with sealant. For regular maintenance find out what pressure range is recommended for your tires and keep them pumped in that range. How often you need to pump them depends on the kinds of tires you have. Unless you have latex tubes you don’t need to pump them up before every ride. Then check the tires after a ride to make sure nothing is stuck in the tire, like broken glass or metal shards. Clean them off so they don’t eventually cause a flat. Most tires today have some kind of flat ‘prevention’ [sic] belt inside. They may help theoretically but I can’t say they’ve been effective for me. You should glance at your tire occasionally to see if tire casing is exposed, which certainly means it’s time to replace it. Some tires actually have wear indicators in the rubber. But who pays attention to those tiny indentations anyway?
Things get more interesting when you get a flat. I’m not here to advocate for any particular tire technology; I’ve used them all except tire inserts. Whatever secret juju you think your favorite tire technology has to make life tolerable in avoiding or reducing flats, be my guest. Some people hate dealing with flats at all and others shrug their shoulders. If you’re an old fart like me, plain old butyl inner tubes on conventional tires and rims are fine. I don’t mind fixing a flat on the road. I’ve used latex tubes, TPU tubes, sealant—you’ll still get flats and have to fix them on the road. Unless you always call for help and pay someone else to deal with it all.
Being old school I am an advocate of at least knowing how to fix a flat on your particular wheels if the occasion should unexpectedly visit you. You can always ‘coach’ some other willing soul how to do it, you know, like your Jersey Ride companions. The best, of course, is if you not only know the theory but the practice as well, i.e. you’ve actually practiced fixing a flat on your wheels. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, tires and rims today are not like they were in the past. Today they can be a lot tighter and harder to install or remove. Doing that on the road only makes it more of a struggle unless you have practiced. As I have learned first hand [pun intended] dexterity and hand strength are important in tire repair and both decline with age. Arthritis doesn’t help. You don’t want to be surprised on the road when you find out you don’t have the strength or the right tools to remove the flat tire or reinstall it.
Therefore take the time to actually practice removing your tire, pulling the tube out (if you’re using one), putting it back in, and then putting the tire back in place. Then when you do get a flat, you’ll at least know you are theoretically and practically capable to doing it. Practicing patching is easy. Just put a hole in an old spare tube you have lying around and put a patch on it according to the kit’s instructions. Inflate the tire and if it holds air, that’s all.
If you’re a tubeless user, you hope you never have to remove the tire. Which means either you are (a) using the right sealant, (b) know what to do when you see sealant spurting out of your tire all over you and your bike, or (c) know how to use tire plugs. If the inevitable happens, alas, you should know how to install that spare tube you carry just in case you get an unrepairable flat with a tubeless tire. I hadn’t practiced using a tire plug because, c’mon, how difficult is it to stick it in the hole, right? You remember your first time, don’t you? Maybe it wasn’t so easy. Well, the theory was in my head but the practice turned out to be a bit different. Similarly the first time I got a tubeless flat that couldn’t be repaired by a tire plug, I had to put a spare in. Again, I knew the theory but it was a lot harder in real life. So my suggestion is that you practice both at home. I know it’s counterintuitive to stick an awl into your expensive tire and practice using a tire plug. If you’ve got a worn out tire lying around, you can practice on it instead.
Last year I wrote a series of posts on fixing flats. You can find the index to these posts here.
