While loading my gear onto my bike this morning, I discovered that the snapped bolt wasn't the only equipment issue I had yesterday. Somehow, somewhere, sometime, my air pumping thing fell off my bike and I didn't notice. After careful inspection, I was able to use my superior bicycle repair knowledge to solve the mystery. I think it had something to do with the missing velcro strap that secured the pump to the pump-holding-bracket thingamajig.
See? There is nothing in the thing where a pump should be.
I really didn't need the hassle, nor the delay, of trying to find a bike shop when I was facing another day of strong winds, a high temperature of 95-degrees (F), a heat index of 105-degrees, and severe thunderstorms in the afternoon hours. Yet I also knew it would be the height of irresponsibility to try to ride the last three days of my tour without a pump. At this moment, I can think of no greater shame than having to ask somebody for help because I didn't have the most basic equipment for repairing a simple flat tire.
On my way to Fitzharris Bike and Sport Shop in downtown St. Cloud, I had the fun of riding through a parade route. The official start time was still a half-hour away but hundreds of people were already lining 6th Avenue in preparation for the big parade. A few people waved at me and I waved back. I pretended the parade was in my honor. One woman shouted, "That's the BEST way to travel" as I passed by, to which I answered, "Yes, it IS!"
A couple of seconds after I snapped this picture, I passed the golf cart and the roller skater to take over leadership of the parade of pre-parade goofballs.
The guys at the Fitzharris Bike & Sport store were very helpful and, like any well-trained retail employees, they supported my decision to buy the $29 pump over the $15 pump. Everybody was happy and I proceeded south.
Now THAT'S what I'm talking about! Soybeans on the left and wheat on the right. Vegetables and grains that are used to make all kinds of delicious foods.
It was a brutal day, but I'm not complaining. Why would a guy complain when he is safely housed in a motel rather than in a campground where his tent could be shredded by golf-ball sized hail?
There was some hail in this storm but, far from the golf-ball sized hail the weathermen predicted, I would describe it as rabbit-dropping-sized hail.
