I used to scoff at electric mini pumps – now I can't imagine my life without one

This article is part of a series called ‘A love letter to…’, where Cycling Weekly writers pour praise on their favourite cycling items and share the personal connection they have with them.

The below content is unfiltered, authentic, and has not been paid for.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but my world has been rocked by an electric mini pump.

I know what you’re thinking. How could I fall for something so niche, so seemingly unnecessary, so gimmicky? I thought the same thing.

I scoffed at these 'premium air devices' in online reviews. I rolled my eyes when one appeared on a friend’s saddlebag, like a tiny motorised billboard for laziness. And then I met the Muc-Off AirMach Mini, and was forced to eat my own words.

Reader, I was wrong.

This isn’t just a gadget for cyclists who fear a bit of elbow grease. No, this is liberation. It is dignity, bottled and lithium-powered. It is freedom from the roadside spectacle of a grown adult, red-faced and flailing, locked in an arm wrestle with a stubborn mini pump while their friends try to avoid eye contact.

Let’s start with the tubeless truth. Many of us are running tubeless now, and anyone who’s battled a leaky valve knows the chore of constantly checking tyre pressures. Before, I would either ignore it and hope for the best, or jab at my tyres with a thumb and declare them “fine” with absolutely no supporting evidence. But now, with my sleek little electric pump, I know exactly what pressure I’m running; it tells me, digitally, on a tiny screen, with enormous pride.

Pre-ride top-ups are a doddle. No sweat, literally. I plug it in, press the button, and stand there feeling smug as it hums away, doing the job better than I ever could. It’s like having a personal mechanic living in my back pocket.

Is it not a pain to carry around? It takes up more room than a traditional mini pump, sure - but when the time comes, when the puncture gods inevitably strike, I can dig into my jersey pocket and find salvation in its electric whirr. No faffing. No drama. Just air, on tap.

I've found that even my ride buddies are grateful for my new acquisition. Not only because I'm glad for them to use it, but because they're saving valuable time, tens of minutes they'd have previously spent watching me re-enact the Industrial Revolution with a tiny piston pump.

It’s funny, really. I had it pegged the device as a toy for tech-obsessed cyclists, those with too many gadgets and not enough grit. But now I find myself evangelising to anyone who’ll listen. I was a sceptic. Now I’m a convert. Isn’t that how all the best love stories start?

So here’s to the little electric mini pump. Compact, unassuming, and widely under-appreciated. You’ve earned your place in my jersey pocket, and my heart.