The Mrs and I did some errands this morning, and then it was off for a ride. Did the T-CLOCS inspection. My tires were getting a little worn, but I've already ordered a new set and made the appointment to get them replaced.
Took off up multiple canyon roads. Had a great time. Got cold, way up in the mountains surrounded by snow. Came down the mountain, got warm again. Lots of twisty roads.
Stopped for a rest and bathroom break. Came back to the bike. Doing a once-over. Saw the rear tire. Defecated myself.
It sure as shit didn't look like that this morning when I was adding a few pounds of pressure.
Near as I can tell, my daily commute, which is mostly interstate, did enough damage to the middle of the tire that going up in elevation and digging into the curves damn near became a catastrophic event. I rode it nice and gentle to the shop that's doing the tire replacement, handed the key over, and said "I just rode the good off of my tires."
Ah, well. I can't say I didn't get my money out of these ones.