Two Wheel Blogs

I got the call yesterday. G wanted to hit the urban scene for some riding and blowing off the holiday stress. I was up for that!

We headed out from Casa-de-Unit and began our search for anything that might be fun to ride/crash on. It was not long before we found some steep banks.

G was using my bike, so he was understandably shy to take on anything very large. Not only is it bad etiquette to crash a friend's bike, but the potential is high since the bike generally is not set up to your preferences. He was a sport though...hanging out and jumping curbs.

We were supposed to meet up with another rider for some fun, but he flatted moments before joining us...and had no spare tubes and tires (apparently it was a doozy). His family came and picked him up...

We rode about launching off curbs, walls, docks, and an occasional steep grassy slope. I found some banks that were at or slightly above my threshold...that is the key. That is what I like most...not going big, but going big RELATIVE to my comfort level.

Everything was great, we were really having some fun until we arrived at the skate park. That was when I was exposed to some really good riders. Suddenly, I could no longer recall what I have forgotten over the years. At this point, I could only recall what I USED to know, and what I USED to be able to pull off on a bike.

These other riders were like a mercury spill. They flowed all over the place and seemed to bounce off of things with fluid motion. After watching them for only a few moments, I could only think of the feeling I used to get as a kid on a BMX bike...the fluid feeling of dropping in a halfpipe and G-ing out in the transition....I had to have it.

I shoved off and started spinning up the face of a table top, and proceeded to the halfpipe. Once on the platform, I barely hesitated as I dropped in that sucker. It was a small one...only about 4 feet. In hind sight it was insane for me to try it in the first place, but my body seemed to remember just enough to get me through it. I was sketchy, but I felt the flow for a split second....this was the false confidence I needed to really get over my head.

After the few passes at the half pipe (really more of a quarter pipe the way I rode it), I noticed a launch box. This thing had a beautiful transition/booter that was only about 18 inches high. I sized it up and determined that I could catch some big air off this thing....I should have noticed some of the BMXers stopping to take in what I was about to give them....that would have been a tip off that I should not try what I was about to do. I did notice the other side of the box had a mirror image of the launch side...so I would have to land my move, then very quickly go to manual and wheelie drop the backside...seemed so easy in my head....

So, in an instant, the crowd grew. There were only a handful of riders in the park at that moment, but all were watching me....previously they engaged in encouragement and small talk. They seemed eager for me (and anyone else that showed up) to drop their inhibitions and get their feet wet....my kind of guys...they seemed to realize that getting hurt is part of it, and a necessary evil on the road to improvement.

So I round the far end and start pumping toward the launch. I hit the tranny at about a 70 degree angle (this flattens it a bit and makes an apparent angle that is more suited to my larger 29 inch wheels). I shift my weight back as the front end started to clear the lip, weighting my back and preparing for the launch as the wheel hits the kicker. I hear the swish of the tire reaching its traction limit as it resisted the slide. The rear tire follows with a similar sound, I feel it roll off the wheel slightly as I launch. The tire rebounds and the bike pitches as I lift off...instinctively the bike goes into a slight table top as I prepare for the landing. It was at this instant that I recalled that I needed to stick this landing and get ready to manual off the box...

I notice that one of my feet has lifted off the pedal slightly, and as I land, the foot misses its mark on the pedal...the other foot (my right and non-"chocolate" foot) is now standing on a pedal being held in position by only the friction of the freewheel (the front foot is not there to resist the impending back spin).

Touchdown, the back (right) foot shoves the crank down hard, and slips off at bottom dead center...the freewheel buzzes for a split second. Ass meets seat hard, left pedal meets left shin--HARD, the sound of aluminum on bone is crisp. I stay upright, but am sketchy as all hell...and the down side of the box is approaching fast. Instinctively I pull hard on the bars trying to do a seated manual to prevent a full on auger (endo and face plant as the front wheel drops off the box and the chainring digs into the coping). My efforts are successful only to the point of preventing an all out crash.

I regain control, and get feet back on the pedals, then begin to carve out a turn back to the waiting group. I turn to see looks of disgust as riders scatter as if someone farted amidst their group. I roll back up to hear the murmurs from them as they roll out to their respected lines....it seemed as if I now had some contagious disease that none of them wanted to catch...I don't blame them...I would not want it either.

G is the only rider left in the area. He speaks and makes mention of the pain I must feel (I do not recall his words). I do recall honestly reporting back to him that I felt no pain (which is a bad sign usually). At that point I looked down and saw, exactly what I expected...a 3/4 inch long gash across my shin that was already swollen to the size of a silver dollar, oozing blood like crazy with a meaty interior that I can only describe as looking like a large bleeding hemorrhoid.

I do not wipe it, or even pay attention to it (don't want to loose any further credibility by whining about it)...honestly, I do not think I ever had an ounce of street cred. to begin with. I hit a few more lines to "get back on that horse" so-to-speak, and made damn sure that I hit that same line where I got bite. Luckily I stuck it properly the second time around...not that anyone noticed...or was impressed...but I was!

So here I am, healing up and hairing over. It does hurt today, but it is the sort of pain that tells you that you are alive.