There was a car with a flat tire at the trailhead today. “That sucks” I thought and started on my run. Passed two Gen-Z chicks coming down the canyon about two miles in. The car with the flat was the only other car at the trailhead so it must be theirs. “That sucks” I thought and kept on about my run. I got back about an hour later and the two chicks are sitting in their car, doors open, all distraught.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“Yeah… we’re fine… we’re just… it’s fine” the girl in the driver’s seat replies with wide eyes like I’m definitely a serial killer.
It was clearly not fine.
“You have a plan to get down?”
“Yeah, we’ll call someone.”
There’s no cell service for 10 miles in any direction.
“Do you have a spare?” I asked.
“Uhm, I’m not sure. It’s fine” she replies.
It’s a 2016/17-ish Honda HR-V. The spare tire is under the cargo floor.
“You do. I can put it on for you if you want.”
The two chicks stare at each other. “Uhm… no, that’s ok” the driver says to the passenger in the tone of a question.
“You sure? It will take me ten minutes” I said insistently but trying not be a creep.
The two chicks stare at each other some more. (They clearly would have chosen the bear.)
“Or I can call the ranger when I get down to Pasadena.”
The two chicks stare at each other some more. They whisper in girl code. They look me up and down. They stare back at each other. The passenger finally speaks: “uhm, so… would you mind helping us change the tire?”
“Yeah, it’s no problem.”
I have them open the cargo. They dug out enough hiking supplies to hike the PCT.
“You have enough gear to survive out here for a week” I joked.
The two chicks stared at each other. They looked at me. They looked back at each other. In girl code they agreed it’s safe to chuckle. “Hehe, yeah” one of them says.
By the time I got the car lifted, they had let their guard down a little and thanked me “seriously so so so so much.” They told me they had no idea how to change a tire. They’ve never had to change a tire before but one of them did have a dead battery once in college and had to have her dad drive over an hour to come give her a jump.
Ten minutes later, the tire was changed and they seemed genuinely surprised I didn’t kill them. They thanked me again “seriously so so so so much” and assured me that I “have no idea, omg” and then they were on their way.
It made realize how much it sucks to be a woman where every man is a threat until proven otherwise. I don’t blame them for being cautious, but I do blame them for venturing into the mountains with $1000 worth of REI products, but no clue how to change a tire.
Teach your daughters how to change a tire ffs!