One Brave Son of a Bitch

Yet another flat, this time on the way to work.

I hauled-ass down the road to catch up to a hottie on a tri bike, when--Dang! Another flat. Trouble was no spare tube. I figured I'd get one at the bike shop at lunch. Luckily, another roadie stopped and asked if I needed help, like just two minutes after I pulled over. He let me pay him for a tube--I was sure glad he stopped. I used my last dollar bill to boot the tire, as I discovered a gash in the sidewall. This makes two flats in a row and these tires are brand-new, mes amis.



Cooper's Hawks on the old Water Tower on the campus of the Desert Sanatorium.

There was a lot more traffic as it was about 20 minutes later than normal for me. The small window I ride through seems amazing--the number of cars of the road jumps considerably. Almost to work, I had a lady pull out in front of me--another motorists left space for her to leave a business and get into the lane. She pulled out without looking. She saw me and stopped suddenly and I just missed hitting the front of her car. I waved to let her know I was okay and no hard feelings. She was okay with that and we went on our way with out a care.


Rain clouds and wind for the ride home.

Going home, I hooked up with a couple of roadies for a balls-out run West down Ina. I should have been a bit careful because my tire could have blown out or gone flat again without warning. Some clouds came in and the head wind got stronger.

One Brave Son of a Bitch.

I came to stop in the bike lane at the very busy intersection of Oracle and Ina. A guy waiting in at the light in his truck struck up a conversation. "Dude, you are one brave son of bitch." He said he used to ride a motorcycle--but got hit by a distracted soccer mom a few years back. Now he can't get up enough nerve to ride anymore--just too dangerous. He wished me well and we were on our separate ways.

Thinking about it, I believe I've become a sort of adrenaline junkie.

Cheers! Bruce