In August, “Fifteen hikers on an office work retreat in Colorado’s San Isabel National Forest left one man behind, who went on to survive a night on a mountain while injured.” The article goes on to state how the man had been left alone to summit a peak by himself and that the co-workers picked up trail markers that would have shown him the way down! Despite cell calls from him with “pin drops” showing his position, they offered no help other than to tell him he wasn’t on the trail and to go back and find it. He ended up spending the night on the mountain, injured from more than 20 falls, through periods of high wind and freezing rain. He lost cell service, but the next day, rescue workers found him. I don’t know the backstory behind this event, but those co-workers are shameful people.
When you accept the mantle of leadership, you accept responsibility for the well-being of the group, irrespective of ability or attitude. Some members are better at the activity than others, so you need to gauge your efforts - or the efforts of the group - based on the least skilled of the party. If someone is truly so bad at the activity that you know it will create a poor experience for everyone, then you need to make the hard decision not to include them. The hardest thing in the world is to tell someone “No, you can’t join us” but in the long run, it may be best for both the individual and the group. That person may be the biggest ass in the office, or they may not be physically qualified, or both. Still, there’s no excuse for leaving someone on a mountain where they might die. No person should be left behind.
I’ve seen this on motorcycle rides where a group goes out with someone they either don’t like or who is a weak rider by their definition. You’ll hear, “Oh, Joe-Bob is coming along…” (accompanied by an eye-roll). Sometimes it’s someone who, despite prior coaching, lets a big ego get in the way of implementing the instruction: a poor rider who is too much of an ass to listen. Sometimes the response is a type of mob mentality where the hot shoes in the group set out to “teach them a lesson.” Regrettably, that lesson may be wrapped in a decreasing-radius turn with oncoming traffic or with a precipice on the other side. What’s better: to slow down to accommodate a slower rider, or to direct traffic around the inevitable accident, deal with a tow truck, ambulance, and a follow-on memorial service?
I frequently end up leading a small group. I have a reputation as a decent navigator and as a relatively patient rider. I typically point out road hazards and keep the group together. Just looking at me suggests that I might know a few good places to eat. When I do lead, I keep in mind the people for whom I have accepted responsibility, including the slowest/least skilled or even the person who may be annoying. Without false modesty, I know I’m a good rider, so I don’t have to prove it by leaving people in the dust. Even if I’m a member of a group led by someone else, I won’t get goaded into riding beyond what’s prudent for the road (or group). I’ll wait for people that are getting left behind. Let me say something again: when you lead a ride, you accept responsibility for getting EVERYONE to the destination unscathed, regardless of skill or attitude.
Sometimes the answer is to select a sub-leader who can take the more skilled members out ahead and to make arrangements to meet them at lunch. I actually like small groups (my “Rule of Sixes” column applies). If I’m leading, I like to keep the headlight of the last member of the group in sight most of the time. I’ve seen groups say, “We’ll wait at the next turn to regroup” only to have the next turn be miles away. If the tail-ender low-sides in a turn, by the time the group realizes something has happened and goes back, it could have been a half hour or more. As for “teaching someone a lesson,” there’s no place in our ethos for that out on the road: if they’re that bad, the lesson is to just say “no” to their inclusion in the group.