Do the right thing! Offer help!

So there I was far into a ride, a few long rides after my back spokes had been trued. The wheel had been knocked out of round when, in trying to avoid a maniac dart by a squirrel in front of me, I jammed my heel into the spokes of the back wheel. Anyway, all was back to normal after the mechanic at my bike shop had adjusted the spokes. That is, until a few days ago when I was riding about 18 mph on flat road about ten miles from home, about 41 miles into the ride.

“POP!!”

Suddenly the bike slowed down all by itself, to a stop. I thought my new chain had somehow broken, the pop was that loud. But I got off the bike and looked as a guy in full riding kit stopped and asked if I was OK.

“Something blew up,” I said, then discovered a broken spoke near the base of the hub.

“I can’t ride it,” I said, noticing the wheel was so badly out of round that it just jammed into the frame of the bike.

“Have you got a ride?” the guy asked.

“Yes, I do. Gotta make a call.”

The guy waved down park maintenance guys driving by in a pickup and asked them the name of the street leading to the park just ahead.

“Chase Drive, right?” he asked, and they confirmed.

So I called home, told my wife that Chase Drive would get her to the park. The guy earlier suggested the closest bike shop he knew of, then looked up on his phone the nearest freeway exit I could tell my wife to take. I put the bike on my shoulder and started walking, and thanked the guy after my ride was arranged.

I really appreciated his stopping and doing all he could to help. I decided I need to do that more when I see someone who looks like they have a flat or mechanical problem. Yeah, do the right thing once in awhile!

Because when I’m out riding, I probably have too much of a ME thing going on. I’m riding hard to get a good time, and am so focused, I’m not really thinking about offering help to anybody I see stopped on the side of the bike path. Which is really not something to crow about. Kind of shameful, really.

I’ve flatted on days when many people are riding the trail (weekends) and have been off to the side fixing my flat.

All the while hearing a steady stream of:  “You OK?” “Need any help?” “Need any help?” “You OK?”

Which is great, but when I’m annoyed about a flat, hearing the constant “You Oks?” can itself be annoying. I wanted to put out a sign that read, “FYI, Now Hear This: I’m fixing my flat. I’m OK. I don’t need any help.

But thanks for asking.”

Sometimes, though, we all need help, and are really glad when somebody asks.

One time, my friend flatted when she ran over a thistle while we rode together, so I stopped, laid my bike on its side and helped her fix her flat. When we finished I picked up my bike only to hear the front tire gushing air: A needle-sharp thistle had pierced the side of my Kevlar tire when I’d laid the bike down on a bed of tamped down thistle plants on the side of the bike trail.

So this is a little bit annoying. I get out my spare inner tube and find out it has a leak in it. It’s late morning and the sun is blazing down, making me sweat like a prisoner in a hot box. I’m annoyed now by the heat, the seemingly freak flat, and again by having a spare tube that leaks. So I pull out my second spare inner tube, which experience has told me is a good idea to pack. I get it on the wheel and struggled through the sweat pouring off my forehead to get the tire wedged in place over it.

Another riding couple I know stopped to chat while all this was going on, with the guy saying with a laugh, “Remind me never to buy the Kevlar tires you have on your bike.”

At this point, I can’t believe this guy, I’m ready to blow. Really? Is that a good idea to say when watching somebody struggling through a bad patch of luck?

Anyway, he somehow got the vibe that he should just ride away, and he and his friend did so, I was happy to see. 

But in my funk, while wedging in the tire, I wasn’t careful enough and pinched the tube with my plastic levers and, guess what? This second tub was, because of my impatient struggling, also rendered no longer capable of holding air.

So my friend offered to ride to her truck to pick me up at a point about a half mile up the trail. I put the bike on my shoulder and start walking in my cleats, carrying the two useless tubes.

As I walked, I vainly tried to remain unannoyed by what had transpired in the last half hour, when two riders coming the other way rode past.

 “You OK?” asked the first guy.

“Out of tubes,” I say. “Gotta walk to a ride.”

“Hang on,” said the first guy. “I got a tube for ya.”

He and his buddy stop, he unfolds a spare tube and I release the flatted front tire.

“Thanks a lot,” I said. “I really appreciate this.”

“You’re an American, aren’t you?” he said.

The second guy, before I could do anything, pulled off the tire and, put the new tube on, then carefully seated the tire edges onto the rim, stretching it over the edges using his fingers and formidable hand strength.

They used an air cartridge to instantly blow up the tire, with the first guy getting a little freezer burn on his hand doing it.

So because of these guys’ generosity of stopping, donating a tube, helping with the change and donating an air cartridge, I was suddenly back on the bike. I called my friend and we were able to keep riding.

But only because of these nice guys.

So if I’m going to pay forward the help I’ve gotten when a problem has me stopped cold, I need to offer up help when I see somebody similarly in a fix. I need to get out of the ME mode and into the WE mode. It’s the better mindset, better for the greater good of fellow cyclists out there. Let’s all do this and we’ll be doing the right thing!

Now for something completely different

Congrats to Jimmy Fallon for getting the Tonight Show. Check out his audition for Saturday Night Live a few years ago. It shows some great comedic versatility. His Adam Sandler impression is amazing. If you just listen to that part and don’t watch, you’d swear it was Adam! Enjoy:

Til next time, remember to strap on a helmet before you get on the bike. And when you’re on it, there’s only one thing to remember: Keep the rubber side down!

-- Mark Eric Larson

Mark Eric Larson has written two books of essays, "The NERVE...of Some People's Kids," and "Don't Force it, Get a Bigger Hammer. To read, visit: 
http://www.scribd.com/Mark%20Eric%20Larson/shelfHis blog of personal essays is at: http://marksmuzings.blogspot.com/