Guess what? On Saturday morning, of all days, I get hit by a tack on the bike lane. She was hiding on the smooth surface of Foothill while I was riding back to catch up (or down?) with Spectrum.
At first, it didn’t sound bad: she hit me while I was staring to the side, and all I heard was a repeated whacking, as if a leaf had been caught in the brakes. Then I saw the whitish grey think stare at me on each revolution of the wheel. Conscientiously, I slowed down (after making sure nobody was around) and look at her: big, fat, painted white, she must have jumped out of a piece of plywood on the bed of a truck.
It cost effort to get her out. She had bitten herself, aided by my not light weight, into the tire and the protection liner. Finally, I made it, and the inner tube sighed with relief. Maybe it hissed aggressively. In any case, not the sound you want your inner tube to make.
I was riding on, it seemed there was no problem, and caught up with MVV (they were faster than Spectrum), but then up on Page Mill, the tire gave in and I had to stop. Last inner tube, so now I am going to the store to get another supply.
What a boring Saturday!