The group of scooters had been pushing the edge for hours. A mix of mountain switchbacks, long sweeping curves, and city traffic had sapped the energy of seasoned riders as well as novices. The focus now was on getting to the hotel for the night with its warm showers and food. It had been a good day. Now we just needed to bring it to a close.
From the back of the group, there was no warning before the flashing lights on the lead bike. Initially it was a warning that he was going to slow then a right hand turn signal. My eyes caught a beautiful Yamaha sport bike limping along at a slow speed on the edge of the road. It quickly became apparent that his rear tire had a puncture and his best hope to completing his planned trip was to get to an interim destination where there was help.
I was not sure we had any tools with us that could help with the situation at hand. More importantly, I questioned our energy levels. We were tired and still had some distance to go. Even as my questions and doubts grew, everyone was pulling in front, to the side, and behind the young rider.
It was fun to be a part of what followed. With each move, the energy across each individual bubbled and grew. A tire kit appeared and was quickly put to use. One person lifting the bike, another managing the kit and the next step for repair, another taking on the role of tire mechanic. Everyone had something that s/he could do. Cheerleading, instruction, lead player, and supporting cast were just the beginning. It was as if the collective group had heard the call; “You’ll get up from your throne and help Zion – it’s time for compassionate help.” (Psalm 102.13)
It was a perfect tonic. The ride ahead passed with seamless teamwork. Navigating traffic and the chaos of other scooters, cars, and trucks all fighting for supremacy passed with a smile on everyone’s face.
The flat memory endures.
