Palomar Patch Job
By Mark Schulze & Patty Mooney (guest contributors)

Rock and a hard place

Author: Patty Mooney.

We live to mountain bike. That is why my husband, Mark, and I were very excited (as usual) to set out for our first ride on Palomar Mountain, San Diego County's highest peak, about an hour north from our home. Mark secured the bikes on the bicycle caddy which sits on and behind the rear trunk; a K-mart special. It had held up fine for months, admittedly leaving some gouges in the car's paint job, but carrying our bikes faithfully to and from a variety of destinations with no problem.

About halfway to Palomar on Highway 15, as we changed lanes, the bike caddy shifted and fell about six inches so that the bikes were suspended about five inches above pavement. Our collective vision of the bikes demolished at 60-mile-an-hour impact compelled us to pull to the side of the road and re-secure the carrier, hoping it would hold up until we reached our destination. Unfortunately, the curvy roads up to Palomar spelled disaster for the carrier, which again shifted so the bikes would kiss pavement at the first bad dip.

"Well," said Mark, "It's going to keep dropping no matter how many times we pull over. We'd better just keep going. Keep an eye on it and if it moves again, we'll stop."

"Okay," I said as we got back into the car and drove off.

About eight minutes later, we both heard an explosion, which sounded suspiciously like the assassination of a bicycle tire.

Mark said, "G.....it! F.....! S.....! G......it!", pulled the car over to the first turnout and jumped out to inspect the damage. My brand new tire was spent. There was an inch-long sear in the sidewall where the car exhaust had blasted right through it. Realizing that this meant I might not be able to ride with our good friends in a new and exciting locale, I said, "G......it! F.....! S.....! G......it!" Mark said, "Maybe the other guys have an extra tire."

I doubted they would, thinking it was about as likely us bringing one (which we hadn't.) Telepathically following my line of reasoning, Mark said, "I may be able to patch it up somehow."

"How?" I asked. "It's shredded! The tear couldn't be in a worse spot. Right on the sidewall, near the bead." "I know. But don't worry, be happy," he said.

After removing the tire and uplifting the carrier so the same thing would not happen again, we got back into the car and wended our way up Palomar Mountain to where our friends awaited us. The first question from our lips as soon as we saw them was, "Got a spare tire?" They all shook their heads.

I said, "Let this be a lesson to you!" and told them the woeful tale of my deathly ill Farmer John. I think I can fix it," Mark said, genius engineer revving up the cogs in his mind. "Go bring me that empty beer can." I fetched the can, which some litterbug had carelessly strewn to the side of the road (thank goodness!) "Here you go," I said, handing it to him. I felt determined to ride and had not let disappointment sink in. And since I have all the faith in the world in my best buddy, Mark, I knew if anyone could, he would affect an impossible repair.

Using the scissors on his Swiss Army knife, he cut a three-inch oval from the can and placed it over the hole on the inside of the tire. Next he cut a piece of the shredded inner tube to fit over the aluminum so that the can would not slice the new tube. Over that he placed four layers of duct tape (which he always carries in the trunk, and some wrapped around the bicycle pump), each one larger than the piece before. "Okay," he said, finishing his handiwork. "I think this baby's gonna fly." We inflated the injured tire to about 28 pounds and put it on the front rim, the position of least abuse.

Amazingly enough that jury-rigged Farmer John held up for three miles of twisty, rocky ups and downs before I hit a rock precisely on the aluminum patch, which began to bulge out threateningly. At that point we stopped and Mark performed some additional surgery with another piece of the beer can and some duct tape. With this double insurance, my bike and I survived a fifteen-mile, five-star (on the Grueling scale) ride. (My socks had never been filthier!)

It was a great day and a marvelous ride. I didn't have to hike around by myself as everyone else got to rock and roll over hill and dale. I got to ride, too! And it was some of the most exhilarating riding I've done yet. Maybe it was the ingenuity and expertise of the patch maker. But I think it was true love.

About the Author:
Patty Mooney has been riding a bicycle since she was seven years old. In 1986, she and her husband, Mark Schulze, discovered the sport of mountain biking while traveling through Canada where a mountain was rated by the amount of headers one was liable to experience while riding down it. Both Mooney and Schulze were hooked and bought a couple of Alpina Sport mountain bikes to ride the local San Diego trails. They married in the mountains on their mountain bikes, then began racing. And then it occurred to the video production duo to begin producing how-to mountain bike videos which were the first of the genre. First, in 1987, there was "The Great Mountain Biking Video" featuring Ned Overend, John Tomac, Julia Ingersoll, Tinker Juarez, Kevin Norton and Martha Kennedy. In 1988 came "Ultimate Mountain Biking: Advanced Techniques and Winning Strategies," with Tinker Juarez, Jimmy Deaton, Glen Adams, Margaret Day, Cindy Whitehead, Ot Pi Isern and John Howard. When the sport of Mountain Biking became part of the Olympics in 1990, all the fun and glory were captured in "Battle At Durango: First-Ever World Mountain Bike Championships." Finally, in 1994, the couple produced the multiple-award-winning "Full Cycle: A World Odyssey," the mountain-bike

travel adventures of - you guessed it - Mooney & Schulze, who hit up nine countries including USA, Canada, Costa Rica, Wales, Greece, Switzerland, Tahiti, Australia and India. Schulze and Mooney now produce, shoot and edit for broadcast and corporate clients like Oprah, Inside Edition, Extra, MasterCard, Discovery and others. The couple can relate many stories of the "olden days" when they rode with the pioneers of the sport and when beer and chili were still served at the races. They still ride their beloved local trails every chance they can get. To learn more about their titles which are now available on DVD, go to

Visit the authors at: www.newuniquevideos.com