Way before I was a bike racer, I was a Boy Scout. An Eagle Scout to be exact. The motto of every Boy Scout around the world is Be Prepared. So I was about 10 minutes into my ride yesterday when I realized that I did not have my Allen wrench with me. Normally not a big deal and I'm not one to travel with a litany of tools anyway, but I was on the single speed. That rear wheel does not feature a quick release. I noodled through the odds of getting a flat and they came up low. I also noodled through the odds of getting a flat considering the knowledge that I did not have the proper tool to fix said flat and the odds quickly shot up. I decided that I should turn around and go back and get my tool. Again, factoring the odds if I turned around, the odds of getting a flat went down to zero. "Well hell," I thought. "If the odds are zero, why turn around?" And so I pressed on with no net. I've been riding the single speed on those days were I haven't really felt like riding. The legs are still a bit tuckered from the efforts of this past weekend, so I brought the one speed. It's so great to ride that thing. I hit the Open Space to ride some of my off the grid trails (shhhhh). About half way through as I was transitioning from Fenceline to Deer Trail it happened. I slammed into a cinder block near a work site and I got the dreaded pinch flat. On the rear wheel of course. So I dug through my seat bag hoping that I might have a stray Allen, but no luck. I did find, however, a patch kit. I was able to get the tube out and find the holes and get them patched. Thinking I had defied the (G)odds, I pressed on. I thought about heading home at that moment not sure if the patches would hold, and if they didn't, I'd be really screwed. No more patches, no Allen, done for. But the trails beckoned and I answered. I was just about off the dirt when the rear went flat again. Damn. I hoofed it out trying to formulate a plan. I could find somebody with a cell and call my brother at the rock pile to come and pick me up (too embarrassing). I could stop by my underpaid coach's house and borrow the tool (he'd no doubt see that I was on my single speed and not doing his prescribed workout and ask me what the hell I was thinking--better off walking back to work). It's then that I saw a contractor. Luckily he had a 5mm and Johnny was back in action. I made it back to work with my lesson learned. Hopefully.

Johnny GoFast