Burn in Hell Crank Brothers Power Pump!

Several years ago Crank Brothers came out with a hand held bike pump that spit in the face of conventional designs. It was everything you want a portable bike pump to be, here is the description off ARGEAR.com:

"Only 93 Grams!
5.5" in Length
High Volume Mode
High Pressure Mode
Dual Head

Description: Crank Bros Power Pump dual piston technology makes it one of the world's smallest and lighest pumps, while pumping out as much air per stroke as many pumps over twice its size and weight. Only 5.5 inches and 3.3 ounces!
High volume mode fills large tires quickly. High pressure mode allows you to easily reach 100 psi! Switch between modes by simply turning a dial at the end of the handle.
Twin locking head easily and securely fits both Presta and Schader valves.
The Power Pump is light in your pack but is quick to get you back in the race."

I praise Crank Brothers for their ingenuity and leadership in improving the technology in the cycling industry. Carrying a pump that only weighs 3.3 ounces and easily fit's in my jersey pocket could make a difference in a race, especially a 24 hour race. Form must not compromise function though and this pump simply does not work. I, like many, others was enticed into buying this pump by the promises of it's minimalist design. I almost couldn't wait to get a flat to put it to use. Luckily or unluckily, I flat often so my chance would come soon. When it happened, I broke out my new weapon. I set it to high volume first, then high pressure, but after 200 plus pump strokes the only thing limper than my half inflated tire was my arm. There was barely enough air in the tire to keep the wheel rim off the rubber, which didn't matter anyway because my arm was so sore I didn't want to ride anymore. The $20 bucks I spent on the pump was the only thing that saved it from the trash can, it ended up in the gear bin as a spare.

The Power Pump's Dual Action

The story should end here, but it lives on in the many others that bought this pump, including Jo, Doug, and Ramine - the 3 people I ride with most often. This next story is one of the many times it failed me.

Jo and I went for a short ride on Marshal Mesa from the house last week. On the way to the trail head I noticed my cassette needed tightening so I told her to ride ahead while I headed back to the house to tighten it. She had our pump. I fixed my cassette and rode hard to catch her. About 30 min later as I crested a ridge I could see her climbing up the next ridge into the sunset. Perfect! I pushed hard on the downhill and kept in my middle ring on the climb to close the gap. I was within a 1/4 mile when I felt a looseness in the bike's rear end that could only mean one thing. As I slowed down the hissing sound coming from under my seat confirmed my worst fears. The sound of hissing faded to crumbling rock under deflating rubber as my heart beat slowed.

The sun was low over the Rockies and Jo couldn't hear my screams for help as she slowly disappeared over the ridge. Never to worry, surely the couple of people I passed on the way would catch up and lend a pump. The first guy took only 5 minutes and surely enough he sported my nemesis the power pump. I thanked him, but didn't even bother. The next guy said he didn't have a pump, but I think he was mad at me for passing him! The sun was now gone and I was getting cold, I would use what ever pump the next guy had. He happened to be out riding with his son and said he would be happy to lend a pump, but not for long because they were late for dinner. The suspense was agonizing as he fiddled through his pack searching for the pump. I had my fingers crossed behind my back, "Please don't be a power pump, please..." I thought. When he pulled out his power pump I strained a muscle in my face trying to maintain the fake smile I had on. It was dark, I was cold, and I had a time limit to inflate my tire. After 20 minutes the tire still looked as flat as a Denny's pancake and my good samaritan was late for dinner. Time up! I was considered walking out to the road and hitchhiking back to the house when one last rider came into view. He had a pump and it was awesome! It looked like something you'd blow up an inflatable couch with, but it worked great. I rode hard and found Jo lovingly waiting for me two gates away. I decided this would be the last time the Power Pump would fail me, it deserved a worse fate than being in a gear bin as a spare.

Sweet flames of justice!

Kick me once it's your fault, kick me twice it's my fault. I now run tubeless tires!