Perhaps I’m in a minority
but despite having preferential telephone listings that theoretically prevents
invasive cold-call telesales; I am pretty much guaranteed to experience
cognitive interruptus while someone reading from a script and on commission-only
contract unleashes their sales patter- double glazing, loft insulation, kitchen
scrappage (or whatever laxative scheme the present administration can inject
into a merely flatulent UK economy).
Thrust from academia back in
the mid-1990s into a landscape of immediate starts and media sales, it seems
eerily familiar two decades on. Having been one of those battery-grads cruising
through a printed call-list, supervisor over one’s shoulder checking to ensure
everyone is rigidly conforming to company schpeel; I’m generally compassionate
in my decline.
Hard sell artists on the
other hand engage my subversive streak, especially as I’ve since discovered
there’s a commonly used database linking my landline with an unrelated property
several miles away. Often I have sent cocky sales monkeys on fool’s missions in
the hope a seamless procession of unwelcome vans bearing solar panels,
“installation engineers” and “surveyors” descending on their doorstep might see
the penny drop.
Inner tubes tend to be
forgotten until we’re assaulted by a heavily patched butyl octopus when sweeping
into the garage, or serenaded with the dreaded hiss miles from civilisation,
only to discover spares didn’t come along for the ride. It’s amazing how many will spend good money
on a top-flight wheelset for whatever purpose, yet bung in the cheapest, wafer
thin, poorly moulded fare with excruciatingly vulnerable valve stems.
Twenty eight years back,
Latex tubes were revered by time trialists/road racers (who weren’t necessarily
die hard tubular devotees) on account of their low weight and rolling
resistance when paired with the best clinchers. Abrasion and therefore,
puncture resistance was another feature manufacturers were quick to promote in
the era’s cycling press. Not without merit either; since the material tolerates
considerable deformity and it’s precisely this fluidity that resists pinch and
penetration flatting.
However, since Latex is
porous, received wisdom suggested daily (rather than weekly) inflation with
narrower, high pressure tyres experiencing greatest losses of pressure. Specialist
sealants lining their interior walls supposedly counteract this without
blunting performance advantages but then of course, said material has no
blocking property so degrades really quickly exposed to extremes of temperature,
UV light oils and indeed heat induced during braking. Hmm, seems glaringly
obvious why these haven’t become universally adopted.
Goo-filled models certainly
fired public imagination, or should I say faith, which is no bad thing if it
encourages people to ride more generally. However, green gloop enjoys a
lifespan of around six, possibly nine months before losing mobility, or in some
instances leaking through the valve stems, leaving trails of mysterious spatter
marks.
Admittedly; they’ll owe you
nothing if you’ve enjoyed trouble free commutes during this time but very messy
should a particularly vindictive sharp burrow home. In common with patch kits,
qualities vary and sometimes it boils down to faith/other decidedly
“unscientific” stuff.
Whatever your preference,
track pumps are probably the most cost and labour saving acquisitions for
newbies-enabling optimum pressures with nominal effort, greatly extending tyre
life, reducing punctures, improving ride quality/comfort and damage associated
with potholes, ruts and similarly destructive surface imperfections.
My first was a Silca
unit-all steel with bright orange barrel and lozenge shaped handle. Pressure
gauges bore only passing affinity with reality but these were easily and
inexpensively rebuilt (mine finally expired after eleven years’ relentless
service).
Actually, I part exchanged
it with a then local dealer/friend, in favour of a deluxe version sporting
longer barrel, smoother piston and wooden handle. More than adequate for most contexts perhaps
but designs have come along immeasurably since with greater refinements, not to
mention improved accuracy.
I’ve always run higher end
metal models alongside a cheap, yet cheerful composite (back up-more convenient
consuming less car space when attending race meets, a week’s cottage based
touring escape etc).
However, the trend for
loftier designs has been a godsend for efficiency-requiring notably fewer
strokes, while overcoming the discomfort of being stooped. Arguably this latter
point’s a moot one in two bike households but those with bigger fleets, or
taller riders serving as race-service/club mechanics.
Loftier desingns, especially
those exceeding 68cm can be a little unstable-so look for a nice, sturdy base.
Oh and in these times of terrorist anxiety, be wary about using them on the
drive since ignorant passers-by may believe you are preparing to detonate
explosives. Absurd-perhaps but alas I’ve already been on the receiving end of
such hysteria once this week! Now going to educate myself regarding platforms
and other digital/e book structures….
