The Kindness of Strangers - Part I

It was early. Dewdrops balanced atop the grass blades, sparkling in the morning sun that would soon be heating up the aptly-named resort town.

“Are you going biking today?” my husband asked, as he quickly took a final inventory of his fishing gear. He and a friend, whom we were vacationing with, were embarking on a remote fly-fishing trip along the Deschutes River. They would be out-of-range and unreachable all day.

“Yes!” I could hardly wait. I was a fairly avid biker and was thrilled to be taking advantage of the 35 miles of paved biking trails weaving in and through Sun River, some of it along the Deschutes.

My dear friend was 8 months pregnant. We were staying in her aunt’s stunning vacation home. They had a relaxing walk planned for their morning.

I grabbed a bottle of water, stuffed my I.D., some cash, and a snack into my small bike pack, and attached them to my bike’s front frame. I was off!

Or, maybe not. I had a flat tire. I pumped it. It immediately went flat. It was the inner tube. Dejected, I returned to the house.

“No problem,” said my friend’s aunt, “just take my bike!”

I was both excited and hesitant to ride her gleaming, new bike. Really, though, why was I worrying? I had never been in a bike accident before.

Odd, the power of suggestion. Not that it was even a suggestion, really. More like a passing thought.

To be continued ...