I worked in a
bike shop for nearly a dozen years. To
anyone in the bike industry, it will come as
no surprise that this was not a lucrative
time.
So I saved where
I could, employing the bike junkie’s tricks
for stretching the useful life of my gear. I
filed brake pads, rotated chains, and rode
my wheels until the braking surface was worn
so thin that it folded over on itself.
Still, the best
trick of all was the most simple: I patched
tubes. And not just mine; I patched every
damn tube I pulled out of every damn flat
tire I changed. Most customers didn’t want
their tubes patched, and understandably so:
Back then, a new one cost $3. To apply a
patch, we charged…$3. You do the math.
I wasn’t
patching tubes out any sense of
environmental stewardship. After all, this
was nearly 20 years ago, when “recycling” a
beer can meant using it for target practice.
I was merely too cheap to buy new, and the
result is that I still have a stash of
patched tubes from my shop days (I’d be
happy to sell you one. The price? $5.
Inflation, ya’ know).
To say that
times have changed would be a cliché but…
well, times have changed. The notion that
it’s acceptable to simply toss a snake-bit
tube into the nearest dumpster has gone the
way of $1 gas and David Lee Roth. And by
golly, I miss ‘em both.
Which begs the
question: What to do with the flaccid tube?
Patching is the obvious and best choice, and
the key here is to understand that patches
sometimes fail and to plan accordingly. When
I’m running patched tubes (which is almost
always), I never leave home without a spare
tube AND a patch kit. Insurance on my
insurance, if you will.
But there are
times when patching isn’t viable. I’m
thinking sidewall blowout (sorry ‘bout the
road rash), or valve stem issues, or just
the madding leak that simply won’t stop
seeping no matter how often you sand, glue,
and stick. And so the dumpster looks mighty
inviting, and not just because there might
be a box of week-old donuts somewhere near
the top.
At times like
these, creativity wins the day. At Larry
Black’s Mt Airy Bicycles and College Park
Bicycles in Maryland, the staff use
blown-out tubes to secure trash can liners
(fold bag over top of can and hold in place
with tube), tool grip padding (wrap and
secure with electrical or duct tape), and
homemade rubber bands (cut tube into slices
with a utility knife, but not if you’ve been
drinking). Black even turns to old tubes for
physical rehab. “I use one to stretch my
foot back to help with my arthritis,”
explains Black. Any of these techniques
could be plied at the home front, as well as
the shop.
When all else
fails, it’s time to pass it off.
Alchemygoods.com uses recycled tubes to
craft messenger bags, handbags, wallets, and
business card holders in its Seattle shop,
and they’ll pick up the freight to have
bundles of tubes shipped from bike shops
(for details, hit the website). The same
can’t be said of your local tire-recycling
outlet, but they’ll likely take your tubes
(Fair warning: they might not know what the
hell it is and they might charge you) which,
in a nice bit of circular symbiosis, could
be mixed with asphalt to reduce the cracks
that gave you the flat in the first place.
Ben Hewwit
A further note
of conscience and encouragement: contact the
tire or tube manufacturer to discover what
their end of use plans are for the items
they’ve created. They may have some
interesting answers for you. - CZ
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