A Sunday Screw

It's Sunday, what better way to spend a cool and sunny day than riding a bike to the local supermarket to buy cake ingredients?

But not bananas, we have lots of bananas. 

The 'local' supermarket is 15K away in Ballan, a good distance to get one's blood pumping. Oddly enough, 15 kilometers is all I had to do as as soon as I reached this sign (pictured) my rear tire deflated.

The problem lay with my back wheel running over an up turned screw (which explains the title of this post) and the inner tube was torn with the equivalent of an axe wound running through it. I walked to the IGA super market and bought various bits including a muffin tray to make delicious muffins if and when I got back to Gordon!

He loves banana muffins

But before I could go anywhere fast enough I had to fix the gaping holes that were hindering my bike's performance. To the hardware shop, which was open on a Sunday, and straight to the tiny corner reserved for bike pumps and repair kits (the only things I needed, although those gloves are goo... NO TIME! I must fix my bike!)

I got the kit and took off the tire, assessed the damage and realised the tube was screwed, in more ways than one. I used two patches at first before realising there were more than two holes (as an actress said to a bishop). Turns out the screw had been a bit keen and had skewered my ride in several places on the rim side of the inner tube meaning I would need a bowl of water to find them all and I didn't have one of those with me, so off walking I went, because every 15 kilometers has to begin with a single step.

About half way through Seasick Steve's album, Started Out With Nothing, a man in a van with an event organiser logo plastered on the side pulled up along side. 

He asked "Bike trouble? Or are you just walking?"

"Yeah, the back wheel has a puncture" I replied

He then asked where I was heading, which was Gordon, but you already knew that so I won't take up space by mentioning it.

Now, putting my bike into the back of a van that smelled like a dead person after "being to the tip today" probably doesn't sound like a great idea, but it was either that or walking another 11 kilometers.

You may be happy to read I was neither raped or mudered and arrived outside Gordon's pub in no time, so the next time a guy asks if you need a lift in his van, say yes, because the Daily Mail was wrong all along.

I had a cheeky few in the pub and my first bag of crisps for 3 months before slogging back the last few kilometers to Poverty Peak to cook up some muffins (after finally fixing the back wheel). I'll post the recipe another time, as they were quite nice.

Another small bit of news, Atti, the French girl here, is now working at the spud packing shed. Also, I cooked a banana based cake yesterday with some peanut butter in the mix and it was really quite nice. 

So now I shall be getting ready for work tomorrow and packing a couple of extra muffins for the guys at the packing shed, seeing as that's where the bananas were given to Atti and I for free. Then I shall listen to Pink Floyd as I drift away for a good 8 hours before being rudely woken by my alarm. Then I shall work and come back tired and deflated before posting two brilliant banana cake based recipes. So, yeah, that's my attempt at a cliff hanger, smell you later!

PS. I don't read moon speak, but I asked a guy who does what the characters on the inner tube meant... He said "WAH YOO WAN? YOO WAN PWAN BAWS? SPECIAL FWY WICE?" so I Googled the answer instead...

Me-Love-Screw-Long-Time... Spooky!