Horse people ended my walk of shame
I drove my bike to the Chamonix of the NW with a plan to ride a maze of dirt roads to a hiking trail I want to do, and see where it's closed (by snow). Can't find anything online, and it's a gorgeous place to ride.
Eventually - after exploring double track, cursing bona fide gravel - I flatted just before I got back to the pavement. And I couldn't get the tire off the rim. I tried swearing at it. While I was wrestling with the tire, I remembered movies that depicted hell as reliving your worst memory in a loop, and I wondered if this was it?
I gave up and started the walk of shame. After a few miles, a lady walked down her driveway to meet me, and said cyclists don't usually walk their bikes down hills. I told her about the tire. She told me the horse needs to go to the vet, I should get off my feet, have something to drink, and meet the family while they get the horse in the trailer. We talked about the area for a while and then they drove me and the bike back to my car.
It's been 7 or 8 k miles since my last flat. They're so rare and the tires I like are so tight, I might be better off carrying light shoes instead of a tube.