Karma and Tubulars

So I was in the Chicago suburb of Kennelwroth, about 15 miles North of my home in Logan Square. I was trucking along at a solid pace when Pish! Swish swish swish... Flat. Back tire dead. My new Kenda Volare tubular ($100) couldn't hold up to the mean streets of the North Shore. I had Stan's No Tubes sealant in there, for all the good it did. I also tried Vittoria Pit Stop, which I've never had any luck with. And because I'm super smart I didn't bring a spare.

With nothing better to do I started the long hike home, knowing I wouldn't find a cab or train for another 10 miles until I got back into the city limits. As I'm walking I hear the ratcheting of a freehub behind me and I hear a man scream, actually scream "On your left!" then he wizzed by at about 100 miles-per-hour. I was already on the side of the road, walking, don't know why he had to shout, but he didn't even bother slowing down or ask if I was alright.

Having lost my faith in humanity and my fellow cyclists I continue my walk, in the grass this time, when I get passed by another cyclist. This time the guy stops and turns around to meet me. I'm thinking, wow that's nice. Too bad I'm on tubulars and nobody since 1902 rides tubulars. But low and behold the man asks, "Clinchers or Sew-ups?" I say sew-ups, dejectedly, and BAM! He has not one, but two spare tires! He lent me the spare and I limped home, faith in humanity restored.

What a great guy! Anyways, I have some Karma debt to pay back now. But I'd also like to urge all my readers to remember that cycling is a fraternal order. We're exposed on the road and nobody looks out for us but ourselves. When you see a cyclist on the side of the road, see if they're ok. Even if you can't fix their issue, at least offer your cell phone. If you're lucky, somebody will do the same for you some time.

Thanks again sew-up guy!