Illinois is flat. So are my tires.

My friend Sam and I have been exploring the Chicagoland region on our bikes. Last week, we checked out a few neighborhoods on the north side of Chicago and in the process found the beautiful (and smooth!) North Branch Trail. Today, we explored the suburbs west of Chicago, including the Illinois Prairie Path and the Grand Western Trail. It would have been a great ride if it weren’t for one thing – well, six things actually…

When I retrieved my bike from the bike room of my apartment building this morning, the rear tire was flat. No worries – I had a spare in my saddle bag. I replaced the tube and was off (if only I had seen this as an omen…). As we rolled through Oak Park, I felt that familiar bouncy feeling. Another flat. I patched it quickly and was on my way.

Five miles later – another rear flat. This time the hole was in a different location on the tube, so it wasn’t caused by a poor patch job or a sharp object embedded in my tire since the previous flat. This is getting frustrating! A few miles later, we entered the Illinois Prairie Path, the country’s first rail-to-trail conversion. While the crushed limestone surface was smoother than I had expected, tiny bits of the rock made their way into the cracks in my three-year-old tires. Boom, another flat!

About forty miles into the ride, Sam and I stopped at a deli for lunch. It was a good thing we saw it, because I got a flat (this time on the front wheel) right before we turned off the trail (that’s the fifth flat for those who haven’t been counting). Rather than deal with the flat immediately, I waited until after eating. By the time I was ready to take care of the flat, I noticed (but was not entirely surprised) that my rear tire was also flat! That’s six!

I used my last patch on my front wheel, so I had to use Sam’s one and only tube to make my bike mobile again. Nearly 20 miles from the end of our ride, we both knew that it was going to happen again if we didn’t address the cause of the flats. Sam called his dad and had him google the nearest bike shop from where we were. Once the bike shop and its location were identified (it is aptly named “The Bike Shop”), we were off. The mechanic replaced the worn out tires and tired tubes. From then on it was smooth sailing back to Chicago.

Our day of biking ended up being longer than we had planned. On the plus side, I can now change a flat tire in under four minutes! Here’s to no more flats!!