Sunday I had an entertaining, ass-kicking ride. Lots of climbs, lots of descents. Techy switchbacks, flowy singletrack, minimal fire road. Hike-a-bike here and there, other rock sections cleaned that I had not previously. Chatting it up with perfect strangers, with a sprinkling of down-the-nose looks at my SS. Friendly equestrians, thrilled they could help my traction by depositing steaming trail additives on the toughest switchback. Mostly great weather, save for the merciless parting of the thin cloud cover right during the hardest climb.
Pictures here.
Yet what I can't get out of my head is the failure to help another rider in need.
There was a teenage kid and his adult riding partner (dad? brother? uncle?) riding some fairly technical stuff, and the kid was on an older Huffy bike, with a minimal rigid fork, cheap v-brakes and basically road gearing. He was giving it the old college try but was clearly in over his head, both with his skill set and the dodgy bike.
I lurked back behind them, just having a feeling something was going to go pear-shaped, and sure enough, it did. The adult was a few hundred feet ahead, out of sight, and the kid over-corrected a downhill turn and OTB'd into the bushes -- GoPro-worthy stuff. I stopped to check with him and he was OK and laughing, until he tried to pedal and noticed his fork was bent so far back that the front tire rubbed on the down tube.
The man came back, and we assessed the damage. We got it bent a little back to where it wasn't rubbing, but there was no way he could pedal and steer without toe-strikes on the tire. We could not get enough purchase with the front wheel on, so I suggested taking the wheel off.
Oops, axle nuts.
No problem said I, I have a 15mm stubby box wrench in my seat pack, since my SS has rear axle nuts. "Oh, we'll be fine" said the man, "we'll just go down the trail slow and walk out if we have to." So I pedaled off but decided to wait at the next trail junction to make sure they were OK.
10 minutes later, they came nursing it down the trail and the kid crashed coming around the last turn. Again, not hurt, but the novelty was wearing off. "OK, I'd like to try taking the wheel off now" said the man. So I unzipped my seat pack and started pulling stuff out.
Crap, no box wrench. Looked through my camelbak -- nope.
"I'm really sorry," I told them, "there's no way I'd knowingly be out here without that -- no way to fix a flat on *my* bike without it."
Kid looked a little more deflated. They thanked me anyway and started down the next -- more technical -- section of trail. I really hoped they walked it out to the more tame stuff. I should have tailed them to that point, but I had other goals. In fact, I had a brand new one:
"No flats. No flats. No flats."
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