If you hang around the Pedal Rescue tent long enough, you’re bound to hear the question at least once a day — usually while I’m wrestling a stubborn tire back onto a rim, hands covered in dust and grease. Someone will lean in and ask, almost like they’re sharing a secret, “Hey, does that Slime stuff actually work?”

And every time, I smile a little, because I’ve been on both sides of that question. I still remember the first time I used Slime. It felt like discovering a cheat code for bikes. I was maybe twenty, riding an old mountain bike that I’d already patched more times than I could count. A buddy handed me a bottle of the green stuff and said, “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” I dumped half the bottle into each tube, spun the wheels around a few times, and hit the trails.

That day, I plowed straight through a patch of goathead thorns — hundreds of tiny spiked seeds designed by nature to ruin your day — and somehow made it home without even a soft tire. It felt like a miracle. I was hooked. For a while after that, I slimed every bike I owned. Every family member’s bike. Every neighbor who even mentioned a flat tire. I carried bottles of Slime around in my truck like some kind of backwoods traveling salesman.

But over time, real experience started to balance out the magic. I’ve had slime save me, sure — but I’ve also seen it fail in spectacular, messy fashion. I’ve pulled wheels off bikes where the inside looked like a science experiment gone wrong — lumpy dried clots of green sealant stuck to the tire walls, rims crusted over, tubes practically disintegrating after months of slow leaks. I once had a tube burst while I was working on it, shooting a stream of green slime straight across my workstand and onto a customer’s brand-new white sneakers. (Yes, I bought her new shoes.)

So now, when people ask me, “Should I use Slime?” I don’t just blurt out a yes or no. I ask them a few questions first. What kind of riding are you doing? How often do you maintain your bike? Are you the kind of person who patches your own flats, or the kind who leaves the bike in the garage for three months after a tire goes soft?

Because here’s the honest truth: Slime has a place. It’s brilliant for casual neighborhood riders, kids bombing around the park, or weekend cruisers who just want to hop on a bike and not worry about tiny punctures. For those folks, Slime is cheap insurance. You might lose a little air pressure here and there, but you’ll avoid most minor flats — and that’s a huge win when you’ve got a six-year-old who starts crying the second they have to walk their bike home.

On the other hand, if you’re commuting ten miles each way, riding longer distances, or depending on your bike in a serious way, you’re better off learning how to change a tube, carrying the right tools, and investing in good-quality tires. Slime won’t fix a slashed sidewall, a ripped valve stem, or a puncture that’s just too big. And when it does fail, it tends to fail messily. I’ve fished shredded slimed tubes out of rims so glued together by dried sealant that they felt like they’d been welded in place. That’s not a job you want to tackle on the side of the road at sunset.

Personally, these days I treat Slime like a seatbelt — not a guarantee I won’t crash, but something that helps in the right kind of accident. If I’m setting up a kid’s bike for the summer, or a loaner bike for festival rides, I’ll use it every time. If I’m prepping my own bike for a long ride through backroads or gravel trails, no way. I want clean tubes, spare parts, and the ability to make proper repairs if something goes wrong.

There’s something kind of funny about it, though. Even after all the slimy hands, ruined gloves, and green-streaked driveways, I’m still grateful for what Slime does. It’s one of those little inventions that can turn a bad day into a good one, without you even knowing it worked. And if you’ve ever had a kid roll back into the driveway shouting, “No flat, Dad! No flat!” after plowing through a mess of thorns, you know exactly why it still has a place in the toolbox.

So, should you use Slime? Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on your bike, your rides, and what kind of mess you’re willing to deal with down the line. Either way, if you ever get stuck — green goo everywhere, hands slick and slippery, wondering how you’re going to get the tire back on — just remember: you’re not alone. I’ve been there too. And if you need a hand, you know where to find me.