Letting My Conscience Be My Guide
It's a sunny, albeit chilly, day. I've just come off a weekend of racing (see previous posts). What could be better than a nice easy recovery ride? I take Tessa and head out to the trail.
As I'm riding the trail just past the rise that goes under the power lines between 89th and 103rd, I pass a gal walking her bike in the other direction. I ask if she is okay. She says yes, just a flat. I keep going. Because I still have my race number zip-tied to my seat post, I have only one spare tube and CO2 cartridge in my jersey pocket instead of my whole wedge pack.
I get to 103rd and decide I don't want to do the gravel section, so I leave the trail and head out to Steadman. As I'm riding on 103rd, I start thinking I should go back and offer my tube and CO2. The gal has a ways to walk to even get to the next road. I think, but then, what if I get a flat? Jiminy (aka my conscience) says, "You can just go home. This is just a recovery ride anyway. Who knows how far that gal has to go?" So, I let my conscience be my guide and I turn around.
I catch up to her on the trail. I tell her I can fix her flat. Turns out, she has a tube and tire levers--just no pump. I offer my CO2. She introduces herself as Julie. She's not entirely sure how to change the flat (she would have figured it out though), so, together, we do it.
I offer to ride back with her just to make sure the tire holds, and all is well. It does hold and I leave her near her neighborhood. I also tell her if she wants to learn bike maintenance, I'd be happy to help. So, Julie, if you are reading this, you can email me at firstname.lastname@example.org, or message me on Facebook--Colleen Welch (my profile pic is me at Haast Pass in New Zealand). I'll be around until March 27th--then back May 1st (don't know when in May you are moving).