With a little help from my friends

Usually when I spy a race slick tire coming up alongside me on my commutes I figure I’m most assuredly about to get “schooled.” Sometimes these riders just blow by, unencumbered by the weight of a full pannier and hefty touring bike. Other times they think they’re going to blow by but actually end up stalling out in front of me at a hill or other such obstacle. I find the latter group a bit more annoying than the first. You can’t blame someone for passing a slow moving vehicle, but you can blame them for becoming one in return.

Today I’d gone out to our office on the northeast side of Denver. When I left work the morning’s benevolent tailwind now met me head on as I slogged my way westward. In addition to the wind I found myself in a somewhat sour mood. Riding downtown, which I don’t do too often, I’d been buzzed, honked at, flipped off and passed while stopped at a light by a cyclist who thought it more prudent to just run it. Deep down inside I hold him partially accountable for the buzzing and honking culture I have to contend with. I was annoyed and each gust of the 30+mph headwind only egged on my sense of annoyance. Can I just say that on a particularly windy day it is especially insulting to ride by those “Your Current Speed Is: “ displays, only to have your whopping 14mph speed displayed in bright yellow brilliance for all the world to see. So when the light changed at Sheridan and 26th and I heard the tell-tale sign of Keo’s clicking behind me I thought for sure I knew what to expect next. In truth fate did not disappoint and just passing the Burger King I caught the approach of skinny tires out of the corner of my eye. However, when the rider passed me today he quickly slid back over and said, “I’ll pull for a while.”

Dumbstruck but comfortably in the safety of the draft my speed increased dramatically and I breathed easier. I sat in for a while and then took a pull up to the light at Wadsworth. I never caught the rider’s name. He was commuting home from work as well with his gear in a Timbuktu messenger bag. He was new to the area having recently come back to Denver from Spokane. He rode a Specialized. He had an optimistic view of the weather and the impending change back to cold and rain due in the latter half of the week. I enjoyed swapping pulls with him and shooting the breeze…no pun intended. I arrived home more refreshed than I would have if I’d made the trek alone, and I was in much better spirits having shared the suffering with another rider. Sometimes it is nice to be out on the open road, enjoying the solitude of the ride and the peace of your own thoughts as company. And yet when the headwinds are a blowin’ and the horns a honkin’ its almost always better riding with a friend; even one you‘ve just met and may never see again. But if I do see him again he’s definitely got a wheel. I owe him that much.