Steven and my clan loaded up the bikes on my car and I decided to take the gravel roads home to retrace our steps and to look for better lanes for future rides. I should have skipped this idea and taken the highway home – I know this now but isnt there something about taking the roads less traveled and being open to adventure or something?! Anywho – on our way back there was a dip in the road that I slowed down for, but apparently not enough when you have a bike rack. Four of the six straps holding the rack on the car ripped and to my horror when I looked in the rearview mirror I saw three bikes falling to the dirt road behind me. OH SHIT. The bikes had some bent brake levers, scrapped paint, and a broken spoke or two but all in all we came out ok (future reports may prove otherwise). Steven and I untangled the heap of bikes, tied knots in all the straps, reloaded the bikes and continued home. A few minutes later the car was making funny noises that I first attributed to the dirt road but soon realized was a flat tire. Shitty. So we had to unload/load the bikes so we could change the tire and limp home – this time on the highway. Having Steven in the car with my family did add to the embarrassment level but he did help diffuse a tense situation and help me with the agonizing loading/salvaging/loading/unloading/changing a tire/loading duties. In summary: the ride was great, the food was great, I’m sorry about your bikes, and I need a bike hitch. Good times followed by less than good times. JS
|Flat tire photo. No shots of the bikes carnage. |
I wasn't in the mood for documentation.