My buddy Paul Kingsbury of Kingsbury’s Cyclery fame in Elmira, posted an email about his recent adventure commuting back to work from Burdett, NY last week.  It’s a LONG but very good story that reminds us all why we love to pursue our sporting adventures.

Jim Reed
jreed@zifflaw.com

So, saturday morning I planned to ride the 28 miles from Burdett to Elmira in time to open the shop at ten. The morning was beautiful, cool, sunny, a light breeze, wispy clouds, birds chirping, flowers’ fragrence, all the stuff to make a May morning pefect, as good as it gets. I decide to take Texas Hollow over Rt 14, not the most direct route but by far the prettiest. Texas Hollow is my new favorite road, a six mile section of dirt running through a state forrest from Rt 79 towards Odessa. Only a handful of seasonal homes, tons of trees, no cars, a sparking stream, beaver ponds, wildlife, it’s a heavenly stretch of road. I’m riding my fancy pants Trek MAdone, all carbon from the rims up, and I’m ripping along the freshly graded surface thinking about what a sweet commute this is. Sunbeams slanting through the light green leaves of springtime, warblers singing, squirrells hopping about, a slight chill keeping me cool when all of a sudden “Pshew !” my rear tire goes flat, instantly. Not the familiar, psst, psst, psst, “crap, I’m getting a flat” kinda deal, this was a full blown ”thar she blows !” kinda flat. My sweet carbon rim pounding the stones as I try and slow down to a stop. No big deal, I’ve had loads of flats and needless to say, I’ve repaired more than my fair share of flat tires in the past 27 years. Going through the motions I spot a large cut in the tire and decide I need to use the tried and true dollar bill boot method to keep the new tube from hemoraging through the slit in the sidewall. Get ‘er all in place, hit it with the CO2 and pssss. Flat again, I missed another cut caused by my wheel pounding rocks as I rolled to a stop. Ugh, it’s patch kit time so I stick the handy gluessless patch in place and blast my second CO2 into the tube. Looks good so I roll. Back up to speed I think that when I get back I can finally change to the new tires that have been on my desk for months, no biggy. A minute later, bump, bump, bump, crap, I’ve run aground again ! What the … ? I pull it all apart for the third time, down to a couple crusty patchs and one CO2.  I think to myself, ” You’re up against the wall now, Kingsbury, it’s fix it this time or you’re screwed, the chips are down”. I’m way out in freakin’ nowhere’sville with one cylinder left. In my head I hear all the grayhaired old timers saying, “I told ya those CO2s will strand you someday, when they’re gone they’re gone, you can’t beat a good ol’ Zefal frame pump, blah, blah, blah” Whatever. Upon inspection I find several more snakebites, my tube’s a mess, more holes than a bike shop’s roof. I patch as many as I can find, gas ‘er up again and to my suprise it holds. “Haw !” Reassemble and away I go, roll another quarter mile when the all too familiar bouncy rear end comes a knockin’. I’m flat again, busted, empty, popped, screwed, nada, no mo’ cyclismo for me, I’m hoofin’. In a weird way it’s a relief, no more attempts at repair, I just roll to a stop, get off and start walking.     

      Fire up the cell, which barks back at me that it’s battery is low. I send a text to Deb at her cafe, one word, “busy ?” . She and her helper are usually crankin’  for the breakfast crowd, if I don’t get a reply I know they’re busting butt. There’s no reply. I know how it is to be so busy and I don’t want to add to her workload so I walk. My cell continues to announce that it’s battery is near death so I make a quick call to Sloane and Bobby to tell them I’ll be late. Then as the phone squaks again I grab it by the neck and push the red button to put it out of it’s misery. So now I’m walking with my disabled bike on a dirt road, in carbon soled shoes, in the middle of the forrest, out of contact, no rescue on the way, and think, “this is freakin’ awesome !” I’ve been wishing for a little break, some time to just chill, no schedules, no clock, just free time, and suddenly here it is. The morning is too perfect to worry so I walk and listen to the birds and the crunching of my shoes on the gravel. This is an instant adventure, I’ll just walk and see what’s in store, throw myself onto the kindness of strangers. It’s nine am. I walk, and walk, and walk, it’s a bit farther to the paved road than I thought but that’s ok. I pass some houses, fire up my cell briefly, still no reply so I shut it off. Besides, if I did get a reply I’d have to call, explain, make a plan, shuttle here and there, fix the tire, ride, hurry, try to be on time, a reply would mean an unwelcome return to the real world . So contently I walk, and walk, and walk, I’m excited to stick out the ol’ thumb and see what happens.    

     Lemme tell ya, there are no cars on Texas Hollow or Newtown Rd at nine in the morning, none, if you want a  vehicle free bike ride, go there in the morning ! Walk, walk, walk, walk, restrained dogs bark their warnings, birds flitter about, cats watching my progress sink low as I pass. I’m now at the outskirts of Oddesa I decide to roll really slow downhill on the smooth tarred road into town. Seems ok so I pedal through the village at walking speed, past the gas pumps where guys are complaining about the price of fuel. I could hang around and beg a lift but that would be too desperate so I keep on truckin’ around the corner and head out Ridge Rd way towards Horseheads. Frost cracks force me off the saddle and back on foot. Now there are some cars, about one every five minutes or so. I could call Blaine and he’d bring me a tire, tube and pump but that would put an end to my adventure so I walk, and walk, and walk, and walk. I’m definitley going to need new cleats !

      Some grannys pass me by, a couple guys in commercial trucks look on with pity, glancing a ” sorry, dude, can’t pick you up in a work rig” kinda look. Next a blonde in a yellow mustang approaches but I keep my thumb at my side, I figure that would be too much adventure, not that she’d stop anyway but you never know. She drives on and I walk, and walk, and walk, and walk all the way to the four way stop in Catharine. I stop for the stop sign then keep on walking. By now I’ve aimed my bike’s mirror in such a way that  I can see cars coming without turning my head. I love the little sytems that develop in a situation such as this. More motorists pass, some that I think are legit rides, but no. Don’t let these country folk fool you, they’re savy, they’re up on all the lastest mass murderer scams like pretending to be a stranded cyclist, all the way down to dressing in brightly colored lycra clothing in an attempt to get a lift so they can chop off your head and arms and legs and make a dress out of your skin. They’re no fools, they drive right on by ! So I walk, and walk, and walk, “all I need is some ol’ dude in a pick-up, he’ll be the one” and before too long a lil’ ol’ red pickup comes rolling up. I’ve given up on the try-n-look good, take off the glasses, smile, etc, stuff and I just put out my thumb as I hoof along. But this time I hear tires bite the pavement, the truck is stopping ! A freindly looking guy leans over, I open the door and ask if I can toss my bike in the back. “Sure” so I do and I hop in the cab.

     This rocks ! It’s been too long since I hitched a lift. He asks and I say Elmira but Horseheds is all I need, I can catch the bus from there. He’s headed that way so off we go, driving slow in a high gear, some good ol’ twangy country music on the radio. Did I say this rocks ? Cuz it’s perfect. We chat about Texas Hollow and it turns out I walked right past his house. We chat about jobs, I know people he works with, he’s heard of my shop. We chat about riding, I know his nephews. We catch about his recent health issuses and how Dr Kung saved his live, the same doctor that saved my Mom’s. Charlie, we’re on a first name basis now, asks where in Elmira I’m headed, I tell him and he says he’s on a vacation day so he’ll drive me all the way. I offer to buy the gas but he says “no”. I direct him to the shop then point him on the way to the lumber store where he was headed to originally. As I collect my bike from the back of the truck I say ” if you ever need anything bike related …….”, he replies, ” if you’re ever stuck in the country again just stop at a house, they’ll help you out”  We wave and away he goes. I pull open the door to the shop, a big smile on my face. I’m only forty five minutes late for work and what a great lil’ adventure I had !

Just goes to show ya, even on a sunny day the clouds have silver linings

pk