Fate

I don't consider myself to be superstitious; at least I try not to be. But I do sometimes wonder about fate. And when I think about my driving style (and what I get away with), I have to admit that I ponder the existence of guardian angels. The driving is a topic for another blog post. But suffice to say that I do NOT run reds. Nor do I tailgate or cut people off. I always wear my seatbelt, drive with headlights on, and use my turn signals (even for my frequent lane hopping). But I am a focused driver who likes to get where I'm going; and I have been known to, um, push the outer speed limit.

Last night my wife and I were going to take our first bicycle ride of the season. Ahhhh, spring!! It was still a bit cool out, and would be even more so at riding speeds. I usually wear a helmet, but (unknown to my wife) I was planning to skip it, in lieu of my winter hat. I already had the hat tucked in my jacket pocket and would pull an 'oops, sorry honey' when she inevitably commented once we were under way.

The bikes, having been in the garage all winter, needed a tire pumping and a wipe of the dust-cloth. Her bike didn't need to much air. The bike, and it's inner-tubes were newer and didn't slow-leak much. Done. I wheel her recumbent to the front of the garage - all set to go. My 11 year old hard-tail mountain bike was a different story. The front tire took me a few minutes of pumping with my little packable hand pump, and I moved to the back. The rear wheel takes a lot more of the rider's weight (190, in my case), and I value my wheel rims, so I was giving it extra air. At a certain point, I begin to hear a hissing sound from the air-pump's head. My thought is that the pump had slipped a bit from it's lock-hold. I pop the little release lever to remove and re-seat the pump. The bikes presta valve is supposed to snap shut as I remove the pump. So imagine my surprise when the tire rapidly decompresses when the pump comes off. I react by covering the valve with my finger (ala Dutch boy at the dike) like that's going to do any good! Once my finger comes away, it'll lose the rest of the air! I'm trying to make sense of what's happening and I look into the little opening of the bike pump and find?... a piece of the valve - metal snapped clean-off. What the...? Well, it looks like the bike ride is cancelled... sorry hon.

Later, I reflected on my decision to sneak out without my helmet, juxtaposed with the broken valve. What might have been? It's been a long time since I've kissed the pavement on a bicycle. The last time was in Oregon in the 90's. I came away with nothing more than road rash. Helmet: yes. So statistically, maybe I was due for a spill. I briefly imagined my skull connecting with pavement. Like a melon.

Hmm. Sneaking out with a hat on. Broken valve stem.