Good judgment comes from experience. And where does experience come from? Bad judgment. That’s why I have such good judgment.

Ahem.

Monday morning it took me three tries to get to work.

Try #1: same bike I used Saturday morning has a flat rear tire. Oops. Investigation reveals an explosive blow-out at some point, caused by a failed tire sidewall on a tire bought earlier this year. Either the tire was defective or I have to check my brake positioning.

Try #2: patched tube, grabbed nearest functional tire. A brand-new 32mm (fairly fat) cyclocross (fairly knobby) tire. Inflate to recommended pressure, blow up inner tube so noisily it blows three tire levers across the kitchen. One lands on the stove top. Right. That was a 23-25mm tube which I just put in that tire. Way too small, stupid.

Try #3: go into shed. Drag out only ready-to-ride bike that really fits me: the trusty Kilauea mountain bike. Super. Repack clothes and lunch from saddlebag into backpack, and allez.

Morals of the story: stuff happens. Don’t be stupid. Always have a spare bicycle. Hm. Actually, The Whip should have been serviceable too. Now I have to figure out why it wasn’t. Also, why did I take the rear tire off the Pinarello singlespeed? And what was I using for a wheel on the back of the ‘cane?

It’s official. My bike collection has started to possess me. Bad thing.

Topics at the front of my mind in the last few days: weatherproof adhesive labels; ICBC cash settlement policies; moving up cost curves when performance improves dramatically, even though it requires exiting your cost comfort zone; the short in my headlight; serpentine belt replacement on a VW New Beetle; Ray Kurzweil’s latest book; video game reviews for fun and profit; knitting versus crochet; gingerbread houses; aebleskiver; Christmas lights; dog discipline; other.