2366

2366 kms. Six more kms since I last posted. That's as far as I got before my first flat tire. Six kms from home without a patch kit. Could of been worse, I think to myself. I walk up to Queen Street for some cash and a taxi ride home. Bike shoes are great for biking, not so great for walking. But why are the taxi's not stopping. Hey damn it, I need a ride. Walk half way home before a taxi going the other way, who refuses me with the shake of the head as he drives by the first time, returns. Couldn't find a fare going the other way, Jackass? Load up the bike, home before I know it. No tip for you Mr. Cab driver, but fuck you very much all the same. I remember making fun of those roadies the other day in their team Jersey's with their repair kits and pumps. Not so funny anymore...