I had an interesting day on Sunday. It was one of the last few remaining days
suitable for outdoor biking this year. I
don’t bike when it gets below 45 degrees because the wind just takes menacing
chunks out of your face when you are screaming down a hill at 35+ mph.
I have fixed many flat tires over the years. It usually is not too difficult to change out
the tube. It’s rare that the tire is
destroyed in a flat - it’s just a “pinch flat” of the tube usually.
I only had one flat during all of 2012. This was during RAGBRAI, and affected just my
back wheel. My front wheel hadn’t had a
flat since late in 2011, I think.
This week was a little bit unusual though. Since this past Wednesday, I have had three
flats, two in front and one in the back.
I have gotten great usefulness out of my current tubes. It’s rare that I get a tube to last 4 months
with as much as I bike, and me being a bigger guy.
The second front flat on Wednesday came about because my
hand pump has fallen into disrepair. It
could only get about 60 psi in the tube before the pressure in the pump kicked
the pump tube out of the socket. I had
tried to baby my bike back home because I knew that running at only half my
usual pressure made me more susceptible to flats. It didn’t work, so I ended up destroying two
tubes that day.
On Friday, I went to the bike shop and switched over to a
CO2 system. This means flat tires can be
changed quicker, but more importantly, I don’t have to rely on hand pumps. I have never found a well-built one in 6
years of biking.
The CO2 system is also the reason I met Leon.
The more kindhearted bikers will ask if you need assistance
when they see a fellow biker with what looks to be a maintenance issue. Most of the time you’ll get a response from
them that they have everything handled, so it only costs you a couple seconds slowed
down to attempt a good deed. A few times,
I have been able to help with various problems.
I was facing the other direction and didn’t even hear Leon
approach me. He came to a complete stop
before I saw him. He asked if I needed
any help. I said no, but thanked him for
stopping. He hung around though, and
struck up a conversation. He had never
seen a CO2 cartridge used and really wanted to watch me.
Leon is 81 years old and is a nice gentleman. He was headed back up the same way as I
was. He invited me to ride with him.
It is not often that I get someone to ride with me. There is a group I ride with on Wednesday
evenings, but they are mostly criterium racers and they stopped showing up
after their season ended.
I appreciated the company, even though I had to slow down
for him. I didn’t have to slow down too much
for Leon, though. He had plenty of speed
for an old man. We averaged 15.5 mph for
the return trip and even had spurts up to 17.
I asked Leon if he had been on RAGBRAI before. He has done it 13 times, but none
lately. He was there for the second ride,
back when it wasn’t nearly the size it is today.
I’d love to be as active as he is when I am that old. We were discussing our bike frames. His was a nice Trek from about 15 years ago. He told me that he used to bike 7,000 miles a year. He is now down to about three or four thousand. That frame had 90,000 miles on it. Now that is some dedication!
With the energy and passion that he displayed, you would
have thought that he was in his 20’s or 30’s.
However, how he treated others was more indicative of his true age.
I am normally one of the friendliest people you will meet on
the trails. For pedestrians or bikers
coming at me, I usually say hello to them, but don’t have time for anything
else. For bikers that I pass, I usually
try to have a conversation with them if they are traveling at a speed somewhat
similar to mine. If they are just poking
around like half the bikers are, I’ll say something, but it won’t last long.
For the pedestrians that I pass, I try not to scare
them. I say the required, “On your left”
in a loud voice, but those aren’t the first words I say to them. If you say just those words, by the time that
the person recognizes that you are even talking to them, they have to think for
a second about what the appropriate action is for them, and even still, they
might mess it up. Some people interpret “On
your left” to mean that they should be on the left side of the trail, which is
incorrect.
I always use the phrase, “Coming up on your left”. I think this gets better results. The “Coming up” accomplishes two things: 1)
it alerts them that I am talking to them, and 2) it puts emphasis on the fact
that *I* am the one that is going to be on the left.
Leon took things even farther. He would strike up a short little
conversation as we went by everybody on the trail. He would even slow down and have as much of a
conversation as he could with the pedestrians, even the ones that didn’t look
or sound like they wanted to talk.
We enjoyed describing how we interact with others while on
the trails. We both agreed that neither
of us talk to people with headphones in any more than we have to. It just isn’t worth the effort. People with headphones are rarely aware of
their surroundings. It is funny how the
headphone crowd is always surprised when I blow by them. If you had been LISTENING, you would have
known there was a bicyclist about to pass.
I wish I could meet more people like Leon out on the trails. Whenever I go cycling, it is usually the highlight of my day. If I met more Leons, it would always be the highlight of my day.