Some people are able to ride with a light heart, some ride burdened with worry, anxiety and an ever increasing load of tools and spare parts.
Some of my happiest bicycling memories date from the 70's when my neighbor and I rode together every Saturday morning carrying neither tools nor even a spare inner tube. I'm typing this from home so we obviously always found a way to get back. In the interest of full disclosure, these days I ride prepared today to handle a puncture.
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My greatest fear is all of my kids standing around my coffin and talking about "how sensible" dad was.