In another year of bike commuting to home from work I was just leisurely riding home since I had Andrea and the HED. wheels.
Since I was going home there was not a real clear thought of anything except biking home. I was not in a hurry and I really did not have a straight path that I was determine to take home. Readers, unfortunately or fortunately in my case I take a different route home every day of full a full week. Meaning, that I do not take the same path I rode that week to and from home twice.
Paranoid? Perhaps. Better safe than sorry. After all, I am sure that I have pissed off many drivers. Also, I would hate for that person who called me “rudest person ever known” to take me out of the world. There are a lot of people out in the world that have some serious, more serious issue, than me that wish the worst for me. Whether it is by their own hands or fate.
I know that I pissed off many people in my riding and writing. They do not agree with my views. Yet, more often than not, they do not like my comments or views.
Yet, I digress in another topic for another time.
So, there I was riding home and this time around I was taking the bike path home as far as I could.
That was when I saw in the distance a mountain biker walking his bike towards my direction.
I was going slowly since… well, no reason to go fast.
I closed the gap between us pretty fast and then
“What do you need?” I asked. Readers, I bet the person who called me the rudest person ever known would have asked “Is there a problem?”
When in fact asking that question is the fucking stupidest question to ask a biker walking their bike. After all any biker walking his/her bike indicates that something is wrong. Whether it is a flat tire, bent rim, or walking up hill – there is a problem. No fucking doubt.
“I need a bike pump.”
“Well, I got a hand pump.”
The rider looks at me and then says. “I am almost home. I am about another half mile or so.”
“Ok. But if you need to use not a problem”
Readers, at this point I have offered twice my services and assistance.
Whereas the person who called me “the rudest person ever known” would have offered once to help and then ride off into the distance without looking back. Matter of fact, that person would complain about how his help was refused. He would be thinking to himself how rude it was to refuse his help and then complain riding off into the distance most likely calling that rider with a flat tire a curse word (i.e. a mother fucker). Pure speculation on my part, but again to this blogger this would be right up his alley. That person would complain how he had to stop to help a fellow biker and got rejected. If that blogger did not get rejected then that blogger would be complaining about how he had to give up a bike tire patch and loan his bike pump to the rider with a flat tire. Going further, that blogger would be complaining on how that rider would leave on a bike ride without a bike pump and tire patches. Further yet, that blogger would complain on how he gave away a bike patch. A bike patch that probably cost less than .35 cents to him. Fucking get over it! You can always get another bike patch kit for less than $ 2.50.
“Last chance. I am not hurry to get home and if you need I have everything to help you out I bet,” I state.
The rider looks at me and then off in the distance. About five seconds later he says, “That’s ok, but thank you.”
I say, “You’re welcome” while still straddling my bike making no indication to ride off. I wanted to leave the option to him give him one more chance before I leave.
“By the way - Nice wheels.” He says another five seconds or so later.
“Thank you.” I reply. He does not have a clue on how much that comment meant to me.
Let me say that I even went slower riding home. I had a huge smile on my face. Tis the little things in life that put a smile on my face. About eight months later I am still getting comments on my, in my ex-co-workers words – “just so awesome” wheels.
Until the next time
The Fallen Athlete