Just a few short days after one of my favorite times on a mountain bike I had my worst. I didn't fall or anything. It wasn't too long or grueling or with bad company. We had just left. And within 3 minutes it was over. In Southern California if you see something besides concrete you go for it. I saw an open corner lot with small jumps and very minor technical challenges. I took it and when I got back on the street with the other six riders I had little "goatheads" (small sharp plant spikes) infecting not one but, you guessed it... both of my tires. I knew it was over. Right there in the middle of rush hour traffic I pulled one out and Psssssssssssssss...I knew I had about two minutes till I was flat. "See ya guys." I bolted home and made it to the end of the street before walking the rest of the way.


My evening was spent pulling the pieces of crap out of my tires so they wouldn't destroy the new tubes I have to put in. When I'm a PT I might opt for new tires in this situation altogether. But till then I put in the time and time is the only thing between looking at this with laughter and the frustration that I feel now. Stupid goatheads!Here's a riddle for you: What do guys when they are together and the wives are no where to be found the night before a wedding? PLAY ROCKBAND!!!!