The sound is very distinctive, but not easy to describe. It is percussive, like a drum beat, but not as “sharp.”
Too high to be a big drum, too dull to be a little one, a quick, visceral “thump” or dull “pop.”
I would sort of expect it to be metallic, to have a “boing” to it, but it doesn’t.
It is, blog pals, the sound of a spoke snapping.
And the word spoken then won’t be printed in this blog.
Broke my spoke on the way home last night—about 2/3 of the way through my commute. I had been pumping along, pushing my bike, in a chocolate-fueled frenzy to see my grandkids as quickly as possible.
But, rather abruptly I slowed my pace a lot and dawdled. I did not want a rear wheel suddenly giving way, at least not at full speed.
Well, I made it home, and the bike is in the shop. Could I replace a spoke myself? I suppose, but I prefer to let the pros handle this one so I’m sure it’s placed correctly and the wheel trued.
Well, it was so windy today that maybe breaking a spoke Wednesday was not a huge tragedy. And I should get the bike back and return to commuting the way it’s intended—on two wheels under my own power—soon.