All I can think is that something, somewhere, didn't like my comment about not caring if my bike had been stolen while camping last weekend. That's the only possible explanation for what I have experienced the past two days.
For starters, there's yesterday. I was riding the gravel hardpack Snoqualmie Valley Trail over to Tolt-MacDonald park for a group singletrack ride. Rather than drive there and just ride 9 or 10 miles with the group, I decided to enjoy the day and ride the 16 miles of rail-trail there and back as well. Well, that was the plan. Lo and behold my seat rail completely broke off while riding the gravel trail, about two miles from the singletrack trailhead. My friend Bob did his best McGyver impersonation, but even zip-tieing a tape-covered rock under the center of the seat failed to offer the support I wanted. It was rideable, but it was clear the other seat rail was going to break and, when it did, I would be looking at a possible self-impalement of the wrongest kind. Also, I could have ridden out of the saddle the remainder of the ride, but I've done that before after breaking a seatpost and it fries your calves something fierce. Not an option with STP this weekend. So, after a couple of miles of singletrack, I headed back down the hill and caught a ride home with some other guys who were bailing early. Thanks Calvin!
That brings us to today. Nevermind the fact that we set all sorts of temperature records today here in the Seattle area -- high 90's for those curious -- but I nevertheless suited up for a 50 mile hilly ride on the roadbike. The hilly descent from Snoqualmie Falls into Fall City has finally been repaved so I can access my old training route without having to ride on chewed up asphalt again. Or so I thought. I started the ride at 2:30 and, barely 1.5 miles from home rode over something hard and flatted. The only other time I flatted with my road bike was at this same exact spot on Snoqualmie Parkway last summer with Erik. I replaced the tube, and filled the tire back up and decided to go back up the hill to my house to get another spare tube just in case. While I was home, I quickly checked the tire pressure with my pump then headed back out the door. The tire blew out not even 1/4 mile later.
I believe in karma. And I believe that when you get two quick strikes on you, there's no reason to press your luck and go for three. I turned the bike around and walked home. I figured I would just switch shoes and hop on my mountain bike and get a nice ride in on the trails in the neighborhood. As the garage door opened I realized that I had no seat for my mountain bike.
So I went over to Singletrack Cycles and got a new seat -- the owner was even nice enough to wrestle with the ridiculous Moots seatpost clamp so I didn't have to -- and four extra sets of brake pads for TransRockies (Jenson was out of stock when I placed my big order the other night). I also grabbed a few extra tubes for the road bike -- I have a feeling I may need them come Saturday.