Okay, well, NOW I'm prepared.
I knew when I bought my first patch kit a couple weeks ago something like this was going to happen. Denial was so sweet.
Mike and I drove into the eye of the storm Saturday morning for a ride around Longview Lake in Grandview. Dark clouds loomed just to the west, and as we rode away from the truck, a light rain started falling. Since there was no lightning, we decided to chance it anyway.
By the time we'd ridden maybe 3 miles the rain had stopped. The going was a bit slow, as there were dozens of runners from Runner's Edge on the trail, several of whom we knew - or Mike did. We stopped to tale with a few of them, including Dan and Amy.
About mile 3 I realized I'd left my water bottle in the cooler in the truck, so now I had to share Mike's supply.
A couple miles later we got separated when Mike stopped to talk with an RE runner. I decided to give him a call to see where he was, but there was no phone. That, too, was still in the truck.
We hooked up again and rode on. The trail was really nice - more scenic than we remembered it from years past, and there were a lot of riders, runners and walkers all over the place. A very active venue.
We got to the north side of the lake and rode across the dam on the nice, wide shoulder of the road. One of us mentioned how clean and roomy the shoulder was, and that's when it happened. First, one tire pinched a rock and it shot out like it had been fired from a gun. Immediately after that my rear tire crushed a piece glass. It was flat 15 seconds later.
We were 10 miles out. I had a patch kit, but neither of us had air, or, for that matter, a tube.
I reached for my truck keys as I suggested Mike ride back for the truck, but he wasn't sure of the way via the short route - the streets - so he suggested I ride his bike while he walked. That didn't work because my clips didn't match is pedals (neither one of us thought about swapping shoes).
After giving Mike the directions to the truck 3 or 4 times (straight, left, straight, right), he was off.
Three minutes later, he was back. I never had given him the keys to the truck. Whew! Close call.
I got a nice 2.35 mile walk in while Mike rode to the truck. Along the way, two or helpful nice people asked me if I needed assistance, but I declined. Mike made it back quickly, since the street route was 4 miles shorter than the trail route had been. I was glad to see him even if I did have to listen to his cracks about how I was no Boy Scout (right, and where was HIS spare tube and pump when we needed it?).
Neither one of us got our intended workout in, but there was one positive - I got a chance to learn how to replace a rear tube myself. Plus, since a tube is nothing without air, I bought a small pump that I could attach to the frame of my bike.
Now I'm prepared.