Biker Down!

The title was to catch your attention--yesterday, when I'd ridden a half a mile from home, I saw a downed biker. I stopped to ask if she was OK. She was, and asked if I had a pump. Which I didn't. This reminded me of two things--my partner who, eight years ago, happened to have a fire extinguisher in our 20-year-old car when the engine caught fire, so that we saved the car from extinction on I-5 by Monroe. Being prepared for contingencies is good. Maybe I should carry a pump.

Her asking about a pump also reminds me of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which I'm now reading. The author writes that one should carry the tools necessary to fix the bike (in fact he gives a list of the specific tools to be toted, on the road). Otherwise, he implies, I am (we are, the universal we) just along for the ride. So, indeed maybe I should carry a pump. He also writes that in a car, a rider is looking at the scenery in the same manner a TV viewer watches TV: a disembodied being viewing a disembodied vista through a screen. But from atop a bicycle, the view is real, as it was yesterday when I rode to Shilshole and back.

The photo is a November view of Shilshole from the bike trail. The wind was strong enough that it blew my bike over. Twice. (Luckily I wasn't on it at the time).

28 miles