Day 40: Lessons in Vulnerability

Sometimes tires seem indestructible. Like this morning. We rode what was easily the worst road of the Tour: US-13. For 20 miles we were weaving around potholes and wide cracks and going over innumerable bumps-large and small. That's 20 miles of bump...bump...bump...BANG! With each BANG! my muscles would tense and I'd hold my breath wondering if my tires would survive, especially since it was a large bump that gave me my first flat on Wednesday. My tires and those of my partner, Jim B., took the beating and held their air. Tires are tough!

Then there are other times. We stopped for lunch after 50 miles. As we began to leave, Jim yelled, "I've got a flat!" I stopped and went back to help. We took his bike to the back of the SAG vehicle and went to work. Jim took off the rear tire and gently laid his bike in the grass. A minute later there was a "pfft" and a loud whooshing sound. We looked up and watched his front tire go flat. We were bewildered, "What's going on?" We still don't know. Tires can be so fragile.

After leaving the lunch stop we faced another road problem. This highway was smooth, but very busy, with no safe place to ride. There was a narrow shoulder next to the rumble strip, which would have been acceptable except for the gravel that occasionally covered it. Gravel is a road biker's mortal enemy. A couple of weeks ago I hit some gravel and it quickly took me down. So what do you do? Initially I tried to ride on the shoulder and move into the lane when I spotted gravel. After a few weaves into the road and back onto the narrow strip I decided this was more dangerous than just riding on the road. So that's what I did, as close to the white line as I could ride. This makes for very nervous riding. Frequently my muscles would tense and a small gasp would escape my mouth when a vehicle seemed to come too close. I didn't see much, except the road.

Most of us made it through this tense stretch; one did not. Don adopted my initial approach, weaving back and forth between the shoulder and the road. Unfortunately, there are times when there is both heavy traffic AND gravel; Don found himself boxed in on the shoulder, gripped his handlebars, and prepared to ride through the gravel. He does not remember falling or the first few minutes afterward. His next memory is one of sitting by the side of the road with a couple of motorists and bikers. It took him a while to remember what day it was, and, though he had little pain, his collarbone was still broken. Don is a good biker-he had ridden every mile since Seattle-and he took the same approach on this highway that many others took, but now he will be riding to Grand Rapids in a car instead of on his bike.

When you're on a bike, you're vulnerable.

There's no way around it.

Daily we pray for God's protection, and thank him when the day is done.

Don is thanking God that he fell to the right, off the road, rather than into traffic, and that he didn't injure his head.

Vulnerable, but not unprotected.