Often after work, I get on my bike and ride some mountain trails.\u00a0 Although summer is waning, there are still a few hours of daylight remaining.<\/p>\n
On Friday, I rode up to West Mag.\u00a0 I could tell pretty quickly that I wasn’t mentally into it.\u00a0 Some days I ride the trail, other days it feels like it’s riding me.\u00a0 I couldn’t focus.\u00a0 My mind was everywhere but on the ride.\u00a0 I even warned myself to go slower, that I was going to wreck.\u00a0 So I went slower.\u00a0 At a point where I could break off and ride back to town, I didn’t.\u00a0 I thought that if I continued, I’d eventually find my groove.\u00a0 It was just below the surface.<\/p>\n
And I did find it.\u00a0 And it felt good.<\/p>\n
A few minutes later, the groove was gone.\u00a0 I slowed down again.\u00a0 I don’t remember if I came to a full stop or whether I was just riding very slowly.\u00a0 It was at a corner in the trail that had a view of the mountains to the northwest.\u00a0 I wobbled.\u00a0 I lost my balance.\u00a0 Unfortunately this was right next to a mining prospect hole, filled with jagged rocks and fireweed,\u00a0 about 8 feet deep and 8 feet wide.<\/p>\n
This is where the slow motion starts.\u00a0 It’s even slower because I was barely moving when I crashed.<\/p>\n
First the front tire goes over the lip of the hole.\u00a0 At this point I am thinking OH SHIT… this is not going to have a good outcome.\u00a0 This is going to hurt.\u00a0 I think about whether it would be better to ditch the bike and fall on my own. A glance at the jagged rocks all around, I decide the bike should be sacrificed to the rocks and that I’ll use the bike to break my fall.\u00a0 So I hang on to the handlebars and ride it straight down into the hole.<\/p>\n
The front wheel finds the bottom of the hole, but I keep going, over the handlebars, flung at the opposite side of the hole.\u00a0 My hands and arms can’t get up soon enough to brace for impact.\u00a0 I see the ground approaching, realize my face is going to make impact.\u00a0 I see the front edge of my helmet hit first, followed by my nose, mouth, chin and chest.<\/p>\n
The first thing I discover is that I’m not able to breathe.\u00a0 I try taking breaths, but they are tiny.\u00a0 I notice I’m making a grunting sound as I try to breathe.\u00a0 After about ten tries, my breathing resumes.\u00a0 I was almost already standing when I made impact.\u00a0 I find my footing and stand up the rest of the way. I make a quick check of my condition. Nothing seems broken, just scrapes.\u00a0 My nose hurts, my teeth hurt, I brush the dirt from my lips.\u00a0 I turn around and look at the bike at my feet, half-buried in the fireweed.<\/p>\n
There is no easy way out of the hole, so I stay put and try to relax and rest a little.\u00a0 I gaze at the other side of the hole, near the lip, to see how exactly I got into this mess. No clues. I’m angry at the idiot who put the trail right next to the hole.\u00a0 Probably some mountain biker with a small dick who wanted the trail to be more thrilling and dangerous.\u00a0 I’m angry at myself for riding when I didn’t feel up to it.<\/p>\n
I start to think about ways to get myself and my bike out of the hole.\u00a0 I realize the bike will have to go first.\u00a0 I discover it is still in one piece, so I push it up the side of the hole and out over the top.\u00a0 Then I take a slightly different route where I can grab a hold of a tree.\u00a0 Once out of the hole, I think about getting out to the nearest road, which fortunately is only about a 100 yards away.\u00a0 It turns out the front wheel is bent and locks against the brake.\u00a0 I undo the quick release on the brake and the wheel spins freely. I think about the hill I have to ride down to get home and decide I can do it with the one remaining brake.<\/p>\n
It’s a slow ride home in the gathering darkness.\u00a0 Once home, the only thing I can think about is taking a shower and going to bed.<\/p>\n
It’s the next morning, and I’m stiff and sore, but think it could have been a lot worse. Some areas of my face are swollen, especially the inside of my nose.\u00a0 My sternum is pretty sore and realize that it took the brunt of the fall.\u00a0 I decide to continue with my plans to attend NedFest, a two-day music festival here in town.\u00a0 I was okay.<\/p>\n
The third morning after the crash, I wake-up and as I get out of bed, something in my sternum goes pop and there are some crunching sounds and it feels like my chest is splitting open.\u00a0 Lots of pain and I slowly faint.<\/p>\n
As I slowly return to consciousness, I wonder how I could have felt reasonably well for two days, and now I feel like I’ve been in another crash.\u00a0\u00a0 Over the next two hours I weigh a myriad of options, which includes going to the ER, calling a neighbor, or doing nothing.\u00a0 I don’t have insurance, so I think of the less expensive alternatives. Once some ibuprofen goes into effect, I try sitting in the car to see if I am able to drive.\u00a0\u00a0 It’s not too painful as long as I don’t have to turn around and look behind me. I think I can make a 35 minute drive to Boulder.<\/p>\n
I call my doctor’s office and tell them what happened.\u00a0 They find an opening in the schedule for an hour later, and then have me talk to a nurse to make sure I’m okay to drive.\u00a0 I get down there, they run tests and send me off to the hospital for x-rays.\u00a0 Nothing serious is wrong.\u00a0 They assume it’s just a sprain in my cartilage that joins my ribs with my sternum and perhaps a mild concussion.<\/p>\n
So here I am, unable to make sudden movements, or burp, or take a deep breath, with a bad headache.\u00a0 And I wonder how long this pain will last. And I wonder if I should give up mountain biking.\u00a0 The latter seems more difficult than the pain.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Often after work, I get on my bike and ride some mountain trails.\u00a0 Although summer is waning, there are still a few hours of daylight remaining. On Friday, I rode up to West Mag.\u00a0 I could tell pretty quickly that … Continue reading