I'm in my truck with Natasha, and a she has a small dog, with black curly hair. It's dark outside, and for some reason I'm picking up my bike at an intersection between two busy roads, similar to the intersection of Terwilliger and Beaverton-Hillsdale highway. I try to stop where my bike is, but there are pedestrians everywhere and I have to drive my truck through them along the sidewalk, going 'excuse me', 'excuse me'. I decide to go across the road and park there and come back for my bike.

I find a pulloff over there and we get out. There are four dogs that are fighting and playing there, and they seem in danger of wandering into the traffic. But they are just dogs from the neighborhood, and Natasha is holding her dog, so I go across the street and get my bike, even though Natasha is saying I should leave it there for now.

I bring my bike, and look it over. Both tires are flat, and the rear mud guard is smacked up. It seems that somebody was abusing it worse, the longer it was sitting there. Good thing I picked it up.