January 17, 2023
Two news items
Yes, I know I promised you a few days off; but when interesting news comes your way, what are you supposed to do? Just sit on the story until it’s old news? Nah. That doesn’t seem like the way.
Item 1: the weather
It rained yesterday, the hardest it has since we’ve arrived - and probably the hardest we’ve seen in any of our stays here over the last four winters. It stopped in the afternoon, but would resume again later in the evening. It’s had its effect. Kelly Iniguez sent this photo from her ride on the Loop yesterday afternoon. It’s from a spot on Harrison Wash, a short distance from her home. Fortunately she’s on the right side of it and doesn’t have to bike the long way around at the end of her ride.
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I wished I’d at least driven out there myself when I saw this, but it seemed likely that the rain still to come would keep the show going until this morning. And I was right - when we woke this morning it was still raining hard, but by mid-morning the sky was lightening up and patches of blue were appearing in the sky to the west above the Tucson Mountains. Rachael and I both left the house about 11 - she on her way out to Marana, while I drove out to Rillito Wash for a short walk along the loop.
I parked the car in the lot of Rio Vista Park, at the north end of Tucson Avenue. The parking lot is maybe two hundred yards from the wash, and when I got out of the car I was startled by the background noise - a muffled roar that sounded like a freeway in the distance. My first reaction was to be surprised I’d never noticed it out here before, but it wasn’t long until I realized it was the raging river.
Amazing. That river we saw running through two weeks ago was nothing compared to this. A person that fell in would be quickly swept away, a certain goner.
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Item 2: First Flat!
After walking along the wash for about 45 minutes I head back to town and settle in for second breakfast at Maggie’s Cafe. I’m there because I can’t head home until 2:15, after the real estate agent is done with a showing she’s scheduled. I’m there for about an hour and a half, filling my time by fine tuning the plan for the Northern Italy segment of our upcoming tour, and just about to head home when I receive the phone call.
It’s Rachael, out along Rillito Wash herself, on her way home and in need of some loopride assistance. She’s flattened - the first flat either of us has had in over a year. I pack up and drive out to meet her at the end of Mountain Avenue. It takes about fifteen minutes to get there - just long enough for her to push her lame bike about a mile to get there herself. Our timing is perfect - she’s about fifty yards away and coming my way when I step out of the car.
On the way home we share our experiences, each of us still in awe of the raging river. She’s disappointed that she couldn’t find her GoPro before leaving this morning (but it’s been found since); but she did stop and shoot some video with her phone, of the river and of her walking up to a pair of flooded underpasses. And she never made it to Marana, btw. She came to the underpass beneath the train line at the end of Rillito Wash because it was flooded out and there was no obvious detour option.
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When we get back to the room I pull out the Pedros and set in on dealing with the flat. Neither one of us is particularly troubled by it - we’re overdue, and today’s circumstances are about the best we could hope for. It’s dry, it’s not getting cold or dark, she’s not in a bad location, and the Loopside Assistance Unit is staffed and ready for dispatch when the call comes. We’ve been waiting for an indication that we should swap in a new set of Schwalbe Marathons on her bike in preparation for Italy anyway. We brought them down from our storage unit and they’re in the back of the car, just waiting. It’s time.
I remove the wheel and give it a spin before removing the tire, looking for the flattening agent. It doesn’t take long before the Prime Suspect makes its presence known. It’s so obvious what’s happened here. I show it to Rachael, tossing a pro tip her way at no extra charge: don’t ride over nails, and you’ll get fewer flats.
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Scared the bejabbers out of me. Of course I was on a busy shoulderless road and had to pull off into what turned out to be a thicket of roses (native, so not so prickly). So relieved not to hear that telltale hiss when I pulled it out.
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And then I look at it again, and some doubt enters my mind. What if the nail didn’t actually penetrate the casing? I remove the tire, carefully feel along the inside by the nail, and sure enough feel nothing. There’s no indication the nail made it through. It’s just a flesh wound.
So I give the tire another, slower once-over and find the real culprit - a thorn of some kind, which pricks my finger when I rub the casing beneath it. So what are the odds of repairing a flat tire and finding a nail stuck in it, only to discover that it wasn’t the cause of the flat? A new one on me, for sure.
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