On the bicycle trail, a middle-aged woman in spandex biking gear had her bike flipped upside down. I dismounted next to her. “You need a hand?” She kept her eyes fixed on her bike wheel. “Why do I need your help?” Her voice was filled with contempt. “It’s only a flat.” I didn’t respond. Pedaling along the river, I made the decision to keep offering assistance. Someday I’d need it.