who can forget the trail goddess?

[LBTC]

So I finally went out for a ride last night. first time in 2 weeks, due to the being sick and not sure why (doc appt. on friday. hope to test for many things)

anyway, the ride was a blast. always nice to ride with friends that are working their way back to fitness. I only once felt like I'd pushed too hard up a hill...and it passed quickly. I also got to practice passing when she bobbled in places. not something I usually get to do with the guys, so that will be usefull in the next race (that I still hope to do)

before the ride, both of us had a couple of things that made us late and we almost both decided not to ride. ever mindful of the messages I get, I tell her before the ride "this means we have to ride very carefully tonight. no heroics." on a ride with her a few years ago she fell off a teeter totter and broke her elbow. she still has the plate in there. riding with her always makes me a little nervous.

the ride is great. conditions are fabulous. fitness and bike handling are better than I'd expected after 2 weeks of nothing. we don't see any other riders or have any bad stuff happen. we talk and visit lots! on the way out, on the very last bit of trail, the trail goddess reminds me of what I'd said before we started.

of course by then I had so forgotten. I was totally into the ride, totally having a great time. and that last bit of trail is the one that I always get to tell myself "you can go faster", then I do.

so we're riding and I say it out loud. "we can go faster" we do. we're going a good clip. my friend is just in front of me. so a little later I say it again "we can go faster!" Again, we pick up more speed and are having a blast. well, I said it again. "we can go faster"

but the trail goddes said "no you can't"

front wheel glances off a root. I start to crash. I correct. I think I'm okay, but I start to crash again. I think maybe I can just tip over and run it out on my feet, but then I fly through the air. I try to tuck and roll, but my pack is too big and it pushes me back forward. whew. I had forgotten how alive you feel while flying through the air headed for dirt!! that part was fun! I now have bruises on several parts of my body, including my hip bone.....nothing serious and most will be very colourful by tomorrow. good for bragging! by the time I was going home, though, my head was feeling funny.

so I checked my helmet. first inspection, of the outside shell, it looks fine. no scuffs. no dirt, even. hmmm. later I check again, paying more attention to the inside foam. sure enough there's a crack right at the front of it. Since I haven't really crashed for a good year, it's got to be new. too bad something so fun has to cost money. good thing I was wearing that helmet, though! I hate to think how I'd be suffering now without it!

I'm so glad I went on the ride! It was such a blast! maybe next week I'll be back to my regular ride with the guys. I hope I"m up for that!

oh, yeah, and this is helmet number 3 that I've crashed and broken. It goes without saying that I always wear a helmet!!

happy riding everyone!
Namaste,
~T~

[DeniseGoldberg]

Fabulous story - even though I'm not a mountain biker, your story really made me smile. And I am so so glad that you were wearing a helmet. And I'm glad our helmets have the ability to save our lives; I believe that I owe my life to that piece of plastic perched on my head, and it sounds like yours saved you from a bad injury too.

--- Denise

[spazzdog]

Good ride story LBTC! Glad you had fun... and glad you're feeling better.

spazz - who always wears her brain bucket.

[fixedgeargirl]

Great story LBTC! Those moments when you're *about* to hit the dirt, when time slows down, are so oddly invigorating. Very clear, deliberate thinking takes place in those moments, I've found.

My brother's life was saved by a helmet. He fell during the US Extreme Skiing comps, slid out of control, slammed into a tree, frontal skull fracture WITH THE HELMET ON !!!! He's been on a few TV shows since, talking about it. This was the incident that finally convinced my seat-belt-eschewing, bare-headed-endo'ing dad to buy and wear a helmet.