Saturday morning here was gray and heavy. The forecast projected cold rain would start in the afternoon with near freezing temperatures. Most winter Saturday afternoons I try to make the local bike shop ride, but it was canceled due to the cold and forecast. I had told Denine I hoped to work in a ride sometime during the day and I kept an eye on the sky and temperature all morning as I did odds and ends around the house.

Denine had planned to help a single mom in the early afternoon so I knew I would have several hours of open time. With one last look at the sky I figured it was now or never and I was really looking forward to getting in a ride. I put on a set of cold weather riding clothes, put air in the tires, and spun out of the driveway to ride a loop that I figured would be good on this kind of day.

It was cold starting out, but as I warmed up it started to feel good. By the end of the second mile I was feeling comfortable and remember thinking despite the cold and wind I would be warm as long as I kept moving the entire ride. Since I seldom stop this was no big deal. After another few miles I had rolled past the house where a pack of dogs sometimes chase and I was out to the main road. I picked up the pace while staying on the small ring as riders often do for winter base miles.

Then it happened. As I started allowing my mind to drift of to other places I ran over a tree limb that likely came down in last Wednesday's storm. I heard an distinct hiss. The front of the bike started feeling squishy. I looked down to see I was rolling on a flat tire. My first thought was I better fix it quick so I could stay warm.

So I hopped off, lugged the bike over a ditch and took the wheel off. Then I opened the little bag that I keep under the seat and pulled out the spare inner tube, co2 inflater, and tire levers. This summer I had seen Tom Harvey, a Greenville cycling pal, use a technique to pull the tire and tube off the rim without tire levers and I had since read how to do this in a cycling magazine. Why not give it a go? To my surprised it worked on first attempt and did in fact save a little time. Within a few minutes I had the new tube inflated and the wheel back on the bike.  

As I pulled my gloves back on I was thinking this was not so bad. It took about two revolutions of the pedals for me to realize my problems were far from over. My back tire is also flat! In all the years I have ridden I have never double flatted. As with most riders, I use a small bag under my seat with only one tube and enough air for one tire. This was a problem. It sucked to be me at that moment.

I weighed my options. I could start walking or I could call my wife. There is an alternative of doing what some magazines mention and try stuffing the tire with leaves and other bulk and hope it would hold up until I could make it home. On a cold damp day this last alternative which included scrounging around for debris to stuff a tire had little appeal.

So I man up and dial my wife. Unfortunately she was just getting started with her helping-hand errand so I choose not to worry her and simply said I called to let her know I had gone out to ride.  Walking home it is... I'm a little over five miles from home and figure it may take a little while, but no problem if I keep it moving. I say a quick prayer that the rain holds off and I wonder if anyone will roll by and offer help.

Walking five plus miles in running shoes is no big deal. It is a little more complicated in cycling shoes with cleats on the bottom. Some riders call walking on cleats the "duck walk". After about 50 yards of hearing my cleats grind on the road with every step I decide to roll the bike on the outside so I can walk in the road side grass as much as possible. This raises another issue. Here in The South we are beset with fire ants and they love to build hills at the edge of the road where the grass meets the asphalt. This means ambling along while keeping an eye peeled for fire ant land mines.  Still, I could not think of many other things that I would rather being doing at the moment.

In due time I reach the intersection where I leave the main road. I know I am 4.2 miles from my house because I always look at my cycling computer when I reach this point coming the other direction from the house. In my mind this is where warm-up stops and real riding begins on my regular circuits. I know how long it takes to ride home from here, but I do not have an idea of how long it takes walking...in cleats.

About a hundred yards later I begin to think about that pack of dogs. They are not outside all of the time, but when they are they love to chase. There must be four or five dogs in the bunch. I often wonder what it looks like inside the owners home. When they come rolling after a cyclist they do not wag their tails and they look like they mean business. I can out roll them from this direction, but there is no way I can out walk them. I say another prayer and wonder if Catholic riders have a patron saint dog catcher.

About that time a passing car stops right beside me and as the passenger window comes done I hear , "I can not believe no one has picked you up!". It is one of my cycling training buddies, Brad. He was out with his daughter who is learning to drive a car. They load me up and drive me home.

I must have thanked Brad four or five times. He said there is no way they would leave any cyclist stranded. That's a good guy. It made me appreciate my friend more and the general attitude cyclist have towards each other. It is a attitude that we all need to extend beyond the cycling community and simply to those in need. I'll keep that filed under "Note to self".

After Brad dropped me off I changed out of my riding clothes and repaired the other flat tire right away. Then I took a few more minutes to clean the bike and re-lube the chain. Bikes get dirty quickly this time of year and I figured I might as well get back to 100 percent for the next ride. 

As I finished up I thought all is all it was not a bad day. I was not pleased to have two flat tires, but it was still not a bad day. There is something to the whirl and hum of the ride that settles my soul. There is something about feeling the elements and becoming part of them that is satisfying. There is something good about how the repairing and tweaking and maintaining the bike so that it remains the best usable tool possible. And there is something about the people we meet along the journey.