Once in a while we could all use a solo ride and when you live in a Subaru that solitude becomes a necessity. After we parked our 20 square foot mobile home at the Comfort Inn of Fruita CO for a few days of down time I decided to ride out to the Kokapelli Trail Head for some delicious sunset single track. Little did I know that last night the resident Troll had been up to no good in our Subaru.
You see, I’ve come to the conclusion that our Subaru came with a troll named Mingus who lives in the spare tire well. Late at night Mingus pushes all our gear aside, creeps out of the spare tire well and steals things out of my Camel Back. Mainly tubes, patch kits and pumps. The stuff you really need when you’re riding around in places like Fruita. The problem is that Mingus is tricky and he only strikes on occasion so I sometimes forget to double check my pack and make sure the stuff I rarely use is in there. It’s not often that I have to change a flat or patch a tube. In fact, until today it’s been a couple weeks.
As I was cresting the overpass of HWY 70 on the last section of pavement before hitting the dirt road that would lead me to single track I noticed the familiar feeling of a floppy front tire. Sure enough, upon inspection I had a couple tiny thorns in my tire. “No Problem” I thought, “I’ve got a tube and two patches… plenty to get me through a ride and back home.” But as I emptied my pack I realized Mingus had struck again. My tube was gone however, he hadn’t been able to locate my hidden patch kit. I pulled the thorns out, patched the only hole I could find and was on my way. Perfect timing the sun was just getting low.
On the dirt road decent towards the trail head I noticed my rear tire was feeling a little loose, I decided to wait until I got to the trail to fix it but it was losing air faster than I thought and the wheelie drop off a little ledge wasn’t smooth enough. Ssssssssssss, pinch flat. “Damn it Mingus!” Now I had a leak in my rear tube and two holes from a pinch flat with only one patch left. As concerned riders rolled by and asked I was OK I let my pride get the best of me while forcing a smile and telling them “thanks but I’ve got it.” I cut the patch into four pieces, covered the holes, pulled out another thorn and decided I’d take the chance and keep rolling towards the trail.
Only 50 yards into the first climb I felt my rear wheel wiggling around behind me again. My tiny little quarter patches hadn’t been enough. It’s probably good Mingus didn’t hear what I said about him this time. I was a little frustrated and the Pennywise rolling from my ipod wasn’t very calming. I pulled out my last quarter of a patch and got to it realizing that there was no way I was going to make it five and a half miles back to Fruita at this rate. I finally swallowed my pride and flagged a friendly group of riders down to beg for a patch, a tube, or a ride back to town. My trail Karma paid off and thankfully they had a tube for me. After assuring them that I would be fine and promising I would not get lost alone at night they wished me luck and rolled away.
With only a few minutes of daylight left I was determined to get a little trail riding in so I quickly rolled to the closest viewpoint and took in the last bits golden light on the cliff walls. My ride didn’t end up as planned and it wasn’t exactly one of those amazing mountain biking experiences but it was an interesting little mini adventure and as my friend Aaron always used to say when ever we found ourselves freezing in the snow on the side of a mountain, “it doesn’t have to be fun to be fun.”
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