I got injured again. But to be honest, I expected it to happen. I had just ridden my bike from Bellingham, Washington, to Cambridge, Wisconsin, with the only injury of note being a sore bum. I was due for some sort of unforeseen circumstance.
You see, I like to ride my bike fast. Even when the easy choice is going slow and steady, fast is fun. Even with the potential outcomes of going fast being much more dangerous, I’ve never wanted to let up. Now, look, I’m not even close to being the fastest person in town or around the block, but I don’t consider myself slow. Even though I hardly ever win, I place well amongst my peers in bike races, cruise at 18-22mph on my road bike, and generally like the feeling of the wind in my hair and feeling alive on the bike.
However, riding bikes fast has immediate and consequential downfalls. Recently, I took a little tumble on a feature I had ridden dozens of times before without issue. It’s a large rock roll, about 25ft tall, called Spirit Bear at our local trails here in Bellingham. Spirit Bear is not for the faint of heart, and the first time I looked at it, I was intimidated by it's size and relative steepness. With time and practice, that intimidation subsided, and on the first mountain bike ride back from Wisconsin, we decided to go check it out. I felt good on the bike that day and wasn’t planning to crash, but you never do.
The entrance is easy, low grade with plenty of grippy dirt to keep your speed in check. The commitment zone comes about 1/3rd from the bottom, where riders let go of the brakes and allow the bike to do its job. You can still scrub speed here, but as my girlfriend learned, you don’t want to let your tires skid on the rock face. I entered a little faster than usual, but not as fast as I could have gone, the bike whipped down the rock face, and instead of grabbing brake at the exit like I normally do, I went full commitment into the exit berm. The berm was slippery and full of wet, hard-packed clay, and down I went, the bike sliding out from underneath me as I tried to catch myself. When I tried to stand up I felt immediate pain in my ankle, and as soon as the adrenaline wore off I wasn't able to put any weight on my foot.
I stayed down at the bottom while my girlfriend (successfully) went down the feature, but not without scaring the piss out of me first. It took seemingly forever to get out of the woods, and every bump I hit on the way out was beyond excruciating. Eventually, we made it to the closest road, and a friend picked us up in his truck. From there, I got home, laid on the couch, and bummed around without insurance for a few days.
That was all over a month ago. I’ve mostly recovered, but my ankle is still swollen and remains tender and sore in the morning. I'm hoping to be back to 90% soon, but for now, I'll live in the 60-70% range and be thankful for what I can do.
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