Heading through downtown with a group the size of two foolball fields was hillarious. People came decked out in holliday lights and santa outfits. I ran into a few others friends and rode with Harpers guys until my first flat! In the middle of this huge crowd I heard the flat a watched the mass roll by, and I just shook my head. I had everything I needed, and started fixing it, when the TVB crew rolled up and hung out with me (an excuse to stop and drink a few beers, although Bill had a drink holder mounted to the front of his handle bars for drinking and riding.) By the time I finished the crowd was gone and we were standing on a street corner wondering which way we should go.
After heading back out, my brakes were rubbing badly, eventually diagnosing and fixing, but not before another stop. I felt bad at this point for holding these guys up with all my bike problems.
But a few minutes later, I had yet another flat. We all stopped and I cussed. Someone went to go get another 6-pack. This fixing of the flat was epic. We sat under the street lights and drank a few more beers. The neigbors came out and offered help, which was very nice, but we had it under control since I borrowed a tube. A few beers later we would just head back into market square, dead f'n last.
Being dead last isn't as bad as you would think.
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