Roue de Secours

There should have been a tailwind. Heading south on Santa Teresa, there is always a tailwind. My ride partner was having an off day; anticipating that tailwind could only help.

But no, the winds were cross today—huffing and puffing with sideways gusts that thrust me toward the traffic lane.

What happens if you get a flat tire?

I fix it, I replied. The question had come from an elderly uncle some time ago, though the answer made no more sense to him than anything else he can imagine about my time on a bicycle.

What happens if you get two flat tires?

The odds are low, unless you did a poor job fixing the first one.

Low, but not zero. At that point, you rely on your patch kit. [Or your ride buddy.] When he flatted a second time, I gladly proffered my spare tube. What are the odds of three flat tires? Even lower, provided your route is not strewn with sharp pointy things. My mind drifted back to a vintage game ... The Increvable card, that's what we need!

Next Saturday is the Tierra Bella; today, volunteers rode the course to look for trouble spots. [And, evidently, to collect sharp pointy things in our tires so our guests will have a better time.]

No mille bornes for us today; a mere 100 km, instead.