Pressure Check

Dropping down from the rear axle onto the smooth asphalt, I spotted a giant yellow floor pump parked right beside the bike's back wheel. Its thick black rubber hose was snaked across the driveway, with the heavy nozzle lying flat on the ground like an unprimed booster rocket. Naturally, this pit station needed immediate inspection. I scrambled onto the ribbed plastic chuck, wedged my curved hands under the thumb-lock lever, and threw all my weight into a backward heave. With a loud clack, the lever snapped upright into lock mode, blasting a tiny puff of dust off the blacktop. Pressure locked and loaded—Shadow could never prep a launch pad with this kind of speed!