Monday, August 31, 2009
Race Day/Life is Good
Yesterday was race day. There are two races in the WORS series that fit my riding style very well. Unfortunately for me, the first of those takes place in June, while I'm usually still pretty out of shape. The second race is the Reforestation Ramble in Suamico (just north of Green Bay). It's a 12-mile route consisting of about 7 miles of ultra-fast double-track (my top speed was over 23 mph) and 5 miles of technical single-track, sharp turns, and steep sandy hills. It's always fun for me to be around so many like-minded people whether I'm watching or riding. 500 racers and their crews/families/friends all gathered at a forest sevice park to do what they love: tear through the woods on self powered machines. Machines that are treated like priceless works of art until the starting gun goes off. Then they are stomped down on, pulled and pushed to the very limit their aluminum or carbon frames can withstand. It's beautiful. The race went well for me. The single-track was harder (which, for me, translates to slower) then last year and the groupings were different which meant we left in a more general group so it took longer for riders to sift into their comfort zones. After a rather short lead-out, we shot into the woods pretty much aligned by speed. I'd keep with a group going into single-track stretches, and when we'd hit a wider double-track section, I'd make my move deeper into the pack. At the 7-mile point I had a Clif-shot to give me a kick for the end. It must have worked because my first thought upon seeing the finish was, "already?" My time was slower then I had been gunning for, but the ride felt good (and I didn't crash), the weather was perfect, and I was with my family. I had no complaints. After my race, we hung around to watch the pros race. We got a coffee drink and sat in the grass watching the Elites fly by on bikes worth more than my car. What is it about biking and coffee? That will have to be a blog for another day. We ate at Krolls -- an American burger institution -- in the shadow of Lambeau Field on the way home. I was a little sore, but it was a good day. A very good day. Riding is life. And life is good.
Landing Moby Dick
Upon hearing my last story about my bad luck on eBay, an old riding partner of mine commented, "Damn, you've been shopping the X-Caliber for years. It's like your white whale!" That was good for a chuckle for both its irony and its truth. But as luck would have it, lady luck gave me a second chance. The exact same model bike came up for auction from a shop in Colorado. Right down to the same starting price and buy-it-now price. Again, fate was tempting me! Do I snatch it up for the buy-it price or take my chance getting it cheaper in the auction? The clincher was that the auction was to end while my family and I were on vacation. When my wife read my blog, she too couldn't believe I had come that close...again. Now, she too, had an interest in the cat-and-mouse game that I continued to play. In my head, I knew exactly what I was and wasn't willing to do for this bike. She really wanted me to 'just buy the damn thing and be done with it.' But that's just not my way. So we left for vacation and the time counted down-- zero bids three days left. On our last morning in Door County, before checking out of the hotel, we used the courtesy computer in the lobby. Still no bids. I had to be home by 8:30pm to snipe it at the last minute. On went our last day up north. We played mini-golf, swam at my favorite state park, did a little shopping and headed south to have some dinner and head home. On the way out of town, Lori suggested stopping at the hotel and using the computer to put a bid in, in case we didn't get home in time. No dice, someone was using the computer. We were 2/3s of the way home when Lori had another brain-storm: we stop at a hotel off the highway, run in and use their computer to quickly put in a bid. I hemmed and hawed at such a notion, but I pulled into the parking lot of a hotel I had no intention of staying at anyway. Lori ran in, logged on, and placed a bid, all under the curious eye of the front desk clerk. An hour and a half later we got home, unloaded the car, and logged on to find out...I (actually my wife) had landed my white whale. It was a good vacation.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
"I Was Robbed!"
I'm what's known on e-bay as a sniper. That is, I watch something but don't bid on it until the very last instant. In doing this I don't tip my hand and usually can grab something out from under somebody without ever showing prior interest. Yesterday e-bay karma hit me with all it's wrath.
The one style of bike I do not have is a '29er.' The Gary Fisher 29ers (29er stands for the larger wheel size) are built for speed and ease at overtaking obstacles. I've had my eye on a particular model for several years now. My desire for this bike is more of a curiosity than either a need or even a want. But I've been shopping for one all the same. Twice I've pursued one on e-bay, only to have it reach a price I was unwilling to accept. Last December I found one at the bike store in Green Bay on our monthly visit to my son's doctor. I told myself that if it was there the following month, it would be mine. It was sold by the time I returned. About a week ago, I started to look around again. My usual bike connection in Milwaukee came up empty handed. There were NONE in my size let alone the model I was after. Then, out of nowhere, one materialized on e-bay. The right model, the right size, the right condition, and the right price. The seller was a bike shop dude and had made same savory upgrades. And to make it truly enticing, he was offering it at an exceedingly reasonable price. The model new ran for about $1700. The auction was opening at $1100 with a buy-it-now option of $1300. Even the $1300 was a deal for that ride. There were two days left and not a single bid. I began working up a sale pitch for my wife. Certainly she'd remember me mentioning that I still wanted a 29er to round out my collection, right? I also starting studying my finances. This would be a hard sell on both fronts coming as it did, a week before our family vacation. All night at work I ran through my numbers and my speech. When I got home, I quick went to e-bay to stare longingly at the bike to gain confidence before going upstairs to talk to my wife. But low and behold, the bike was gone! Somebody...the FIRST somebody...realizing what a deal it was, grabbed it via the buy-it-now option and was now the proud owner of my bike! Damn karma.
The one style of bike I do not have is a '29er.' The Gary Fisher 29ers (29er stands for the larger wheel size) are built for speed and ease at overtaking obstacles. I've had my eye on a particular model for several years now. My desire for this bike is more of a curiosity than either a need or even a want. But I've been shopping for one all the same. Twice I've pursued one on e-bay, only to have it reach a price I was unwilling to accept. Last December I found one at the bike store in Green Bay on our monthly visit to my son's doctor. I told myself that if it was there the following month, it would be mine. It was sold by the time I returned. About a week ago, I started to look around again. My usual bike connection in Milwaukee came up empty handed. There were NONE in my size let alone the model I was after. Then, out of nowhere, one materialized on e-bay. The right model, the right size, the right condition, and the right price. The seller was a bike shop dude and had made same savory upgrades. And to make it truly enticing, he was offering it at an exceedingly reasonable price. The model new ran for about $1700. The auction was opening at $1100 with a buy-it-now option of $1300. Even the $1300 was a deal for that ride. There were two days left and not a single bid. I began working up a sale pitch for my wife. Certainly she'd remember me mentioning that I still wanted a 29er to round out my collection, right? I also starting studying my finances. This would be a hard sell on both fronts coming as it did, a week before our family vacation. All night at work I ran through my numbers and my speech. When I got home, I quick went to e-bay to stare longingly at the bike to gain confidence before going upstairs to talk to my wife. But low and behold, the bike was gone! Somebody...the FIRST somebody...realizing what a deal it was, grabbed it via the buy-it-now option and was now the proud owner of my bike! Damn karma.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Familiar Ground
Ten years ago I dusted off the Gary Fisher HKEK I had bought years earlier when I lived in Oregon and headed into the woods. I had just moved to Sturgeon Bay in Wisconsin's Door County peninsula. The restaurant I worked at was mere blocks from some prime hiking/mt biking trails. I hit that trail five days a week either before or after my shift. It was here that I became an addict as well as an ambassador to mountain biking. I loved the solace of riding solo, but I'd drag any of my co-workers out to ride with me. Ivy, one of the cooks I became tight with, introduced me to some more trails further north at another state park. On my day off, I'd make the 35 minute trek up the coast to Peninsula State Park to ride that trail. Penn Park became my favorite ride, so it was a special treat for me to ride there. I'd ride the 12 mile loop and treat myself to a lunch of soup and bread at Door County Coffee on the way home.
All this came at a very trying time of my life. Yet even though I went through the birth of my daughter, separation from my first wife, being fired from a job, starting a new job, and a bankruptcy all during a 3-month span of time; it's the mountain biking I choose to remember. Very possibly because it was the mountain biking that got me through all those challenges.
Though that original GF has been retired, I set out on those rails again last weekend. My wife and I brought our youngest to Door County on a spontaneous weekend getaway. We had a great time attempting to recapture some of the magic we had originally created there in the door peninsula. It was definitely a highlight of my summer. I addition to a great bike ride at Penn Park, we had some fun games of mini-golf (my 6-year-old got his first hole-in-one), dinner at the restaurant we ate at the day we got married, and a dramatic thunder storm to lull us to sleep at night. So much of my present life has its roots in Door County. Going back is always full of mixed emotions for me. Every one's lives contain 'what ifs', but its hard to get a grip on how many of my 'what ifs' happened while I lived up there. Decisions made that changed my life for better or for worse. But when it comes right down to it: at least I had (and have) my bike. It was good to be back on familiar ground.
All this came at a very trying time of my life. Yet even though I went through the birth of my daughter, separation from my first wife, being fired from a job, starting a new job, and a bankruptcy all during a 3-month span of time; it's the mountain biking I choose to remember. Very possibly because it was the mountain biking that got me through all those challenges.
Though that original GF has been retired, I set out on those rails again last weekend. My wife and I brought our youngest to Door County on a spontaneous weekend getaway. We had a great time attempting to recapture some of the magic we had originally created there in the door peninsula. It was definitely a highlight of my summer. I addition to a great bike ride at Penn Park, we had some fun games of mini-golf (my 6-year-old got his first hole-in-one), dinner at the restaurant we ate at the day we got married, and a dramatic thunder storm to lull us to sleep at night. So much of my present life has its roots in Door County. Going back is always full of mixed emotions for me. Every one's lives contain 'what ifs', but its hard to get a grip on how many of my 'what ifs' happened while I lived up there. Decisions made that changed my life for better or for worse. But when it comes right down to it: at least I had (and have) my bike. It was good to be back on familiar ground.
Life-Cycles
I have had a rotten summer. It has had a few shining moments: a nice weekend in Door County, an uncommon amount of visiting family and friends, some decent zen rides. But, by-and-large, the last several months have been marred by lack of sleep, injury, heartache, pain (both physical and mental), and crippling frustration at what's become of my life. I met someone recently who has been through some really tough times. She is a middle-aged athlete who credits her pain as her inspiration. How can anyone do that? How is it possible to credit beatings from an alcoholic father as inspiration to finish a triathlon? I can barely pull myself out of bed when things aren't going well. Well, that is an over statement. But when my home life is sub-standard, my work suffers, my health suffers, and my riding suffers. They all effect each other. If my wife and I fight, I can't concentrate whether it be at work or on the trail. My mind is always elsewhere doing (or rather obsessing on) something else.
I love hockey. When I'm watching a game, it'll show a player so immersed in the moment -- so single-minded in purpose, that it's hard to conceive that anything exists outside the rink to this athlete. How does someone separate life from sport? Because I can't. Every aspect of my life touches every other aspect of my life. And right now my life is wrecking my life.
I love hockey. When I'm watching a game, it'll show a player so immersed in the moment -- so single-minded in purpose, that it's hard to conceive that anything exists outside the rink to this athlete. How does someone separate life from sport? Because I can't. Every aspect of my life touches every other aspect of my life. And right now my life is wrecking my life.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Independant Days
4th of July weekend was about as chaotic and stress filled as they come. Work was a circus and stress at home led to near melt-down levels for me personally. Thankfully, I have a bike. The fam bailed for the weekend, so I found myself alone again. Friday night at work we got absolutely crushed, but my crew rose to the occasion and we got through it. Saturday morning I decided I was going to hit the Kettles for a post-crushing (Friday)/ pre-crushing (Saturday) ride. So with the top down and music cranked, I headed west on highway 23 for the 25 minute drive to the Kettle Moraine National Forest Greenbush Group Camping Area (now you see why I just call it 'the Kettles'). I munched a Clif Bar en route for breakfast and hit the trail head by 10a.m. The first lap felt good, so I decided to knock off a second lap for the first 11-mile trail ride of the season. A Clif Shot (double espresso) just before lap two kept me from bonking during the 115 foot up-hill that beats your quads and glutes into submission for the first quarter mile of the trail (yes, I wore my altimeter watch for this ride). I finished the ride in 1:04.05 averaging 10.3mph, which is respectable. I shoot for an hour for the 11 mile version of this trail and aim for anything better than a 10mph average. I spent a little time in the vast empty parking area cooling down and meditating before heading back to town to treat myself to an iced mocha before heading to work for another holiday clobbering.
Sunday morning's weigh-in had me down just over five pounds, but my body mass index was up a little. Meaning I lost muscle. Unfortunately a lot of the weight loss was probably due to dehydrating and starving myself during the two pounding nights at work.
Monday I found the time to repeat the Kettles ride again. I was still lagging from the weekend and felt it on some of the later stretches of lap two. I never quite found that zen groove where it doesn't feel like work to fly through the woods. I was plagued by that dead leg feeling that makes riding feel like I'm slogging through 6 inches of jell-o. All-in-all the ride was an improvement over Saturday's ride. I finished averaging 10.5mph and knocked out the ride in 1:00.48. Not bad considering it was only the second time I attempted the whole (2-lap) ride. Again, I spent some time unwinding and zenning before heading back to town for an iced coffee and Clif Bar lunch. I'm hoping to get my Pro-Cal back on the trail soon. The hydrolic brakes locked up during winter storage and the shop urged me not to try fixing it myself. The Sugar's been treating me very well so far this season. What a deal that bike was! $600 virtually new on e-bay.
Sunday morning's weigh-in had me down just over five pounds, but my body mass index was up a little. Meaning I lost muscle. Unfortunately a lot of the weight loss was probably due to dehydrating and starving myself during the two pounding nights at work.
Monday I found the time to repeat the Kettles ride again. I was still lagging from the weekend and felt it on some of the later stretches of lap two. I never quite found that zen groove where it doesn't feel like work to fly through the woods. I was plagued by that dead leg feeling that makes riding feel like I'm slogging through 6 inches of jell-o. All-in-all the ride was an improvement over Saturday's ride. I finished averaging 10.5mph and knocked out the ride in 1:00.48. Not bad considering it was only the second time I attempted the whole (2-lap) ride. Again, I spent some time unwinding and zenning before heading back to town for an iced coffee and Clif Bar lunch. I'm hoping to get my Pro-Cal back on the trail soon. The hydrolic brakes locked up during winter storage and the shop urged me not to try fixing it myself. The Sugar's been treating me very well so far this season. What a deal that bike was! $600 virtually new on e-bay.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Back in the Saddle Again (part ll: Into the woods)
At long last, I stole a couple hours for myself and went out to the Greenbush Group Camping Area. Home of my favorite trail. It consists of a 5.3 mile outer loop that is primarily a cross-country ski trail. I little while back, the area became so popular with mountain bikers that they added four additional smaller loops inside the original. The new trails offer more technical stuff and more often. I really love the original because you can go fast. There is enough technical stuff to keep you on your toes, but not so much that it keeps you from really opening it up and flying. In about the middle of last season I started doing two laps because I felt guilty about spending almost two hours in the car for a 35 minute ride. My goal is always to finish the 10.5 miles in under an hour. 10mph is a pretty respectable average for me on a mountain bike. The hardest part of this trail is that it begins with an absolutely punishing set of up hills. I bought myself a altimeter watch for Father's Day, but wasn't wearing it on my ride this morning (it's my 'day-off' watch). I really want to know just how much climbing is in that opening section. By the time you get to the top, you just pray the end of the ride is near. But after a nice relatively level stretch, your heart stops pounding in your ears and the fire in your legs stop burning and you begin to remember why you're there. I only rode one lap today. I knew I should take it easy and the weather was stifling. My computer measured it to be 96 in the woods! Forty minutes and a Nalgene of water and a second of Gatorade later, I was headed back to town.
This hasn't been a very exciting blog. And I hope they stay this way for a while. I'm sick of getting hurt. It takes way too long to heal, and the chicks in my life aren't impressed by my bumps, bruises, and scars. They just say, "Poor daddy," and keep playing.
This hasn't been a very exciting blog. And I hope they stay this way for a while. I'm sick of getting hurt. It takes way too long to heal, and the chicks in my life aren't impressed by my bumps, bruises, and scars. They just say, "Poor daddy," and keep playing.
Back in the Saddle Again (part l: Doctor's Orders)
"Doctor, doctor give me the news....." I've got how much weight to lose?!
One week after my rib-cracking crash, I went back to my regular doctor to have him take a look at me. I wasn't recovering as fast as I hoped and besides, it had been thirteen months since my last physical. In addition to the all too uncomfortable things that transpire during a man's physical, the doctor also told me I was obese. Not overweight -- OBESE. Okay, I know I'm a long way from modeling for Hollister, but obese? So what's the magic number, doc? 15? 20? He looked at this handy wheel calculator he had in his lab-coat pocket and said, "54." "54?" I replied, "54 what, grams? Ounces? Certainly not 54 pounds! That's like one whole leg!" I need both my legs, so that wasn't an option. I'm trying to eat less. A lot less. I eat three meals a day, but now two of them are cereal. And I try not to eat after work (9p.m. or later). I bought a scale the same day and weigh-in every Sunday morning. The first 12lbs went pretty easy, but this weeks 1lb loss was really frustrating. I've got a few early morning road rides in lately, but pain and family stuff has kept me out of the woods. It'll be a long while before I get up the guts to go back to Evergreen and the Kettles trail I love so much is 40 minutes away, so that's at least a two hour commitment. The road rides have felt good and my times have been respectable. The ribs have only hurt when I get out of the saddle to charge up a hill. Unfortunately, road riding and mountain riding have about as much in common as distance running and sprinting. It won't be 'til I get back on the trail that I know how hard I need to work to get back to a respectable form. I'd really like to race in Green Bay again this year. That race is about five weeks away.
One week after my rib-cracking crash, I went back to my regular doctor to have him take a look at me. I wasn't recovering as fast as I hoped and besides, it had been thirteen months since my last physical. In addition to the all too uncomfortable things that transpire during a man's physical, the doctor also told me I was obese. Not overweight -- OBESE. Okay, I know I'm a long way from modeling for Hollister, but obese? So what's the magic number, doc? 15? 20? He looked at this handy wheel calculator he had in his lab-coat pocket and said, "54." "54?" I replied, "54 what, grams? Ounces? Certainly not 54 pounds! That's like one whole leg!" I need both my legs, so that wasn't an option. I'm trying to eat less. A lot less. I eat three meals a day, but now two of them are cereal. And I try not to eat after work (9p.m. or later). I bought a scale the same day and weigh-in every Sunday morning. The first 12lbs went pretty easy, but this weeks 1lb loss was really frustrating. I've got a few early morning road rides in lately, but pain and family stuff has kept me out of the woods. It'll be a long while before I get up the guts to go back to Evergreen and the Kettles trail I love so much is 40 minutes away, so that's at least a two hour commitment. The road rides have felt good and my times have been respectable. The ribs have only hurt when I get out of the saddle to charge up a hill. Unfortunately, road riding and mountain riding have about as much in common as distance running and sprinting. It won't be 'til I get back on the trail that I know how hard I need to work to get back to a respectable form. I'd really like to race in Green Bay again this year. That race is about five weeks away.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
When Nature Goes Bad!
It's been a slow road to recovery. Thankfully some crappy weather has kept me from pushing it. A salesman joked with me the other day that "This is pretty good weather......for October!" In any case, I haven't been on a bike since my spill. I was hoping to try and get out on the road once or twice this week, but the rain and wind and fog kept me inside.
This past Sunday I just couldn't take it. It was raining on and off and foggy. I was pacing like a caged animal: antsy, moody, restless, and anxious. Finally, I decided I'd go down to the waterfront, get a coffee, and go for a walk on the beach. When I got down there, the entire lakefront was covered in fog, so I decided to go hiking at Maywood in the drizzle. The hike started off fine. I stuck to the woods to keep the dripping off of me. I worked my way down out of the woods to a trail that leads to the spring-fed ponds. I forced myself to find a four-leaf clover as I needed to work on my patience. It took some time, but I found one! As I began to head down the trail, something caught my eye on the edge of the grass. I thought it might be a chipmunk or other small rodent, but it wasn't moving too quick. At the very moment I realized it was a small bird, a really pissed off (and I'm almost certain -- rabid) mother turkey came flying out of the long grass behind me and chased me backwards down the trail 50 feet! Once I was at a distance the mama turkey deemed as safe, I looked back to see a bunch baby turkey chicks and mom meandering down the trail. So, I picked a new route. I took a trail along the river. It was pretty swampy given all the rain we had just had. There were typical sounds of ducks and songbirds everywhere, but one call was starting to dominate. The closer I edged along the wetlands, the more serious the urgent the cries of a group of re-winged blackbirds got. I figured I must be close to their nests. That suspicion was for the most part confirmed as the dominant adults were buzzing me as the rest sat in the cat-tails scolding me.
By now, I was thinking 'I'm never coming here without my kids again (they're so loud, they scare off all manner of wildlife before we're all out of the car).' I crossed the river with the intention of walking the loop i usually ride (the 'M' part of my MEQ trail). The rains had turned the trail into a virtual stream of mud and water, I decided to stay on the north side of the river and do the Upper Prairie Loop trail instead. I saw a pair of muskrats washing in the natural spring where I usually stop to fill my Nalgene, but opted not to risk another ill-fated animal encounter. On the upper loop I saw a pair of deer eating buds off a tree. I took their picture and continued down the trail as not to disturb them. Eventually I realized that the trail would loop around right along side their snacking tree. I decided to reverse my course and leave them alone. As I made my way back, I heard crunching behind me. I instinctively turned to look and realized one of deer was following me down the trail! "Are you kidding me!?" I thought out loud. I'm done! I'm going somewhere safe.....like the mall!
This past Sunday I just couldn't take it. It was raining on and off and foggy. I was pacing like a caged animal: antsy, moody, restless, and anxious. Finally, I decided I'd go down to the waterfront, get a coffee, and go for a walk on the beach. When I got down there, the entire lakefront was covered in fog, so I decided to go hiking at Maywood in the drizzle. The hike started off fine. I stuck to the woods to keep the dripping off of me. I worked my way down out of the woods to a trail that leads to the spring-fed ponds. I forced myself to find a four-leaf clover as I needed to work on my patience. It took some time, but I found one! As I began to head down the trail, something caught my eye on the edge of the grass. I thought it might be a chipmunk or other small rodent, but it wasn't moving too quick. At the very moment I realized it was a small bird, a really pissed off (and I'm almost certain -- rabid) mother turkey came flying out of the long grass behind me and chased me backwards down the trail 50 feet! Once I was at a distance the mama turkey deemed as safe, I looked back to see a bunch baby turkey chicks and mom meandering down the trail. So, I picked a new route. I took a trail along the river. It was pretty swampy given all the rain we had just had. There were typical sounds of ducks and songbirds everywhere, but one call was starting to dominate. The closer I edged along the wetlands, the more serious the urgent the cries of a group of re-winged blackbirds got. I figured I must be close to their nests. That suspicion was for the most part confirmed as the dominant adults were buzzing me as the rest sat in the cat-tails scolding me.
By now, I was thinking 'I'm never coming here without my kids again (they're so loud, they scare off all manner of wildlife before we're all out of the car).' I crossed the river with the intention of walking the loop i usually ride (the 'M' part of my MEQ trail). The rains had turned the trail into a virtual stream of mud and water, I decided to stay on the north side of the river and do the Upper Prairie Loop trail instead. I saw a pair of muskrats washing in the natural spring where I usually stop to fill my Nalgene, but opted not to risk another ill-fated animal encounter. On the upper loop I saw a pair of deer eating buds off a tree. I took their picture and continued down the trail as not to disturb them. Eventually I realized that the trail would loop around right along side their snacking tree. I decided to reverse my course and leave them alone. As I made my way back, I heard crunching behind me. I instinctively turned to look and realized one of deer was following me down the trail! "Are you kidding me!?" I thought out loud. I'm done! I'm going somewhere safe.....like the mall!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Roots: Nature's Railroad Tracks (or: Today I Hit a Doctor)
Being a chef, father, and husband, my schedule is pretty chaotic. The only fairly consistent times I have to ride are Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday mornings. My weekend riding was going well. A good ride at MEQ on Saturday. A decent road ride before picking up my daughter Sydney on Sunday. Monday, Lori and I were planning on taking the kids to school and heading to the river for a day of kayaking. When I got home from dropping off the kids, Lor was still spent from working the night before. I figured I'd knock out a quick ride, and we could paddle after lunch.
The 'E' (Evergreen Park) portion of MEQ is just that: thick evergreen Forest. So thick, in fact, that I've rode in there while it was raining without getting wet. Evergreen trees in this part of the state are shallow rooted and thrive is sandy soil. Which is why, every spring we have a new trail to ride due to washout and blown down trees. The roots are terrible due in part to the popularity of this high-traffic trail system. Any kid who learned how to ride a bike in the city has probably at one time or another wiped out because they hit train tracks at the wrong angle. At Evergreen Park it would seem EVERY root is at the wrong angle! They bring you to a stop while you're grinding up the last few feet of a hill. They'll kick your back tire out from under you while trying to make a sharp corner. They can launch you air-borne as you shoot down a hill. And sometimes they just throw you off your bike. Twice in my time riding in Evergreen I've had bad crashes and have had no idea what caused them. Yesterday was one of those times. I was headed towards the Maywood corridor down a bone jarring section of roots. I've never fallen here. It's bumpy, but that's what mountain bikes are built for. In an instant I was on my back, my bike was on top of me and I couldn't breathe. I had clearly landed on my handlebars on the way over. I pushed my bike off and rolled on to all fours. My lungs were deflating with a horrible grown and I couldn't reverse them. I thought about dialing 911, but I couldn't speak. It seemed like forever before I got a little gasp into my lungs. Followed again by more raspy exhaling. Little by little, the process reversed itself until i could again fill my lungs with air. It was the most scared I've ever been. When I got my wits about me, I looked around for what had done this to me. I couldn't find any one root that seemed more dangerous than the others. Riding on adrenalin and endomorphs, I continued riding a shorter, easier route back out of the woods and home. It wasn't until I bent down for my water bottle, that I concluded something was really wrong.
When I got home, Lori was up and I told her I was taking myself to walk-in. She drove me to the clinic and thankfully there was no line. Not like in winter when everyone with the sniffles is there. The nurse insisted in giving me a sponge bath for all the other bumps and scapes I had incurred which actually kind of creeped me out. But she did say the nicest thing that i could hear in my current situation, "You must have a really high tolerance for pain. You blood pressure is only 120/80." When the doctor came in, he listened to my lungs and probed my gut looking for internal owies. When he got to the bottom of my rib cage, I yelped and swatted his hand away. "I guess we found where you hit, eh?" He laughed and sent me to radiology. Twelve x-rays (three of with were taken twice), later, the staff deducted that I had not broken a rib, but had in fact incurred quite a bit of trauma to the cartilage that attaches the rids to the sternum. With that diagnosis they sent me home with a girdle and some vicodin.
The real pain of this ordeal lies in the fact I didn't get to go kayaking with Lori, and I was planning on treating myself with a trip to the kettles to ride my favorite trail after I took the kids to school Tuesday morning! The doctor says a month before I start feeling better. I wonder how long it will take to feel 'good enough'?
The 'E' (Evergreen Park) portion of MEQ is just that: thick evergreen Forest. So thick, in fact, that I've rode in there while it was raining without getting wet. Evergreen trees in this part of the state are shallow rooted and thrive is sandy soil. Which is why, every spring we have a new trail to ride due to washout and blown down trees. The roots are terrible due in part to the popularity of this high-traffic trail system. Any kid who learned how to ride a bike in the city has probably at one time or another wiped out because they hit train tracks at the wrong angle. At Evergreen Park it would seem EVERY root is at the wrong angle! They bring you to a stop while you're grinding up the last few feet of a hill. They'll kick your back tire out from under you while trying to make a sharp corner. They can launch you air-borne as you shoot down a hill. And sometimes they just throw you off your bike. Twice in my time riding in Evergreen I've had bad crashes and have had no idea what caused them. Yesterday was one of those times. I was headed towards the Maywood corridor down a bone jarring section of roots. I've never fallen here. It's bumpy, but that's what mountain bikes are built for. In an instant I was on my back, my bike was on top of me and I couldn't breathe. I had clearly landed on my handlebars on the way over. I pushed my bike off and rolled on to all fours. My lungs were deflating with a horrible grown and I couldn't reverse them. I thought about dialing 911, but I couldn't speak. It seemed like forever before I got a little gasp into my lungs. Followed again by more raspy exhaling. Little by little, the process reversed itself until i could again fill my lungs with air. It was the most scared I've ever been. When I got my wits about me, I looked around for what had done this to me. I couldn't find any one root that seemed more dangerous than the others. Riding on adrenalin and endomorphs, I continued riding a shorter, easier route back out of the woods and home. It wasn't until I bent down for my water bottle, that I concluded something was really wrong.
When I got home, Lori was up and I told her I was taking myself to walk-in. She drove me to the clinic and thankfully there was no line. Not like in winter when everyone with the sniffles is there. The nurse insisted in giving me a sponge bath for all the other bumps and scapes I had incurred which actually kind of creeped me out. But she did say the nicest thing that i could hear in my current situation, "You must have a really high tolerance for pain. You blood pressure is only 120/80." When the doctor came in, he listened to my lungs and probed my gut looking for internal owies. When he got to the bottom of my rib cage, I yelped and swatted his hand away. "I guess we found where you hit, eh?" He laughed and sent me to radiology. Twelve x-rays (three of with were taken twice), later, the staff deducted that I had not broken a rib, but had in fact incurred quite a bit of trauma to the cartilage that attaches the rids to the sternum. With that diagnosis they sent me home with a girdle and some vicodin.
The real pain of this ordeal lies in the fact I didn't get to go kayaking with Lori, and I was planning on treating myself with a trip to the kettles to ride my favorite trail after I took the kids to school Tuesday morning! The doctor says a month before I start feeling better. I wonder how long it will take to feel 'good enough'?
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