Friday, September 08, 2006

Flat Tire and a broken vending machine

(55 miles, sunny, 59F, difficult)


“Lexus” started shaking hard when I rode it downhill 30 miles an hour. I sighed. I got a flat tire. In a small road, I took out some of the tools. Bike patch, bond, sapo. Tears fell from my eyes while I fixed the problem.

A flat tire cannot be even compared to a vending machine that swallowed your coins. It’s that desperate.

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