A mountain biker runs up the forest road, pushing his bike while doing so. I pull the pickup truck over to the side.

“What do you need?”

“A pump. Got one?”

“I have one.”


A fellow rider flatted up on the ridge, exhausted his air cartridge trying to seal up the tubeless tire, then put a tube in, only to find out that his hand pump wasn’t working.

He was on a one gear (32 x 19) hardtail, big-wheeled setup, with a sizable amount of dirt and paved roads back to where he needed to be in about an hour.


“Thanks. You saved me.”

“You should be good now. Safe travels home.”


I got a spin in on the new, newer Wildcat and Abby, before making my way around the reservoir. It was Memorial Day, and the state forest was filling up with recreationalists. People hiking, backpacking, kayaking, fishing, camping…

What a wonderful sight?!

I decided to cut the ride short. Back at the truck I pulled out a beer, walked to the mountain stream, found a rock in it, and sat down.

A Nugget Nectar never tasted so good.


independent writer

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