On a recent camping trip, me and the Rock Star and a few others went mountain biking on a 14 mile trail (real mountain biking, like on the side of a mountain, with a steep drop down one side, straight into a river that stupid people ride in big rafts). anyway, about a third of the way in, we'd pulled aside up against the cliff face to let some other bikers pass going the other way; one of their back tires nicked my back tire, my bike tipped, and I slipped over the side. (Yes, you read that right, I fell off a bike that was not moving.) Frankly, I thought I was going to go all the way to the river, but I caught myself about 10 feet down. I'm very bruised- everyone at work is joking that Rock Star beats me, and I reply that no, he just throws me off mountains. I'm guessing the fall was rather spectacular to watch, judging by the look on his ordinarily deadpan face. And the fact that I regrouped before he did, which is difficult to do when you're picking shrubbery out of your hair, your heart is trying to jump past your uvula, and your limbs are so rubbery that sitting and contemplating the scenery seems like a really, really good idea for oh, an hour or so.
I did get a fairly remarkable gash in my leg and a couple of sprained fingers. Luckily, we had a pretty extensive medic bag back at camp (that's what happens when you go camping with a bunch of firefighter/medics with foresight and a lot of beer), so after things clotted up, we finished the ride and then I washed up in the river and poured down some liquid courage and we steri-stripped me. I've included a picture for your viewing enjoyment. That would be my right thigh. A week post-incident. It's going to be a big scar.
I don't recommend cliff sliding, though. I darn near wet myself.
1 comment:
And there was NO electronic gear involved???
Get outta town!
Glad you're all right.
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