A few days ago my teen and I went out on a ride with my teen’s high school mountain bike club. The ride that was done was by far the most challenging one I have undertaken since re-learning to ride. The ride took place in a nature preserve surrounding a waterway that feeds into a reservoir. This time of year the waterway is more like a swollen creek than river. The pathway meanders through grassy fields and narrow canyons taking abrupt twists, turns and drops around scrub, bushes, trees and rocks as it follows the river’s downhill journey. Some of the pathway is wide enough to drive a car on but the majority of it is single track barely wide enough for the handlebars of bikes unless you ride the exact center of the path. In many places the single track was so V-ed out that the only way to ride was on one of the angled banks. In other places rocks and boulders strewn upon the single track narrowed it to the width of a tire. The most challenging part of the track for me was in the canyon. There the pathway was only as wide as my handlebars. On one side of the single track there was a sheer drop off of about 25 feet into dead overgrowth and the river. On the other side was the hillside stretching up above me at a 45-degree angle from the path. Sometimes I think that I am a narrow necked vase capable of holding a lot of information but limited in how quickly that information comes in or goes out. Like water pouring into or out of that vase it can only go in or out at a set rate. Any faster and there is a bottleneck that further reduces the flow impeding how quickly information can be absorbed or relayed. Some of my biggest challenges with cycling have to do with spatial awareness, balance, and being able to keep up mentally with the ever-changing landscape and terrain around me. On the road it is a lot easier. For the most part the road is a wide smooth unbroken piece of pavement, a known factor. It doesn’t require as much mental strength and stamina to stay on it. On the ride out I kept up at the tail end of the group for the first 100 yards. They dropped me where the single track started and waited to help me climb down and back up the banks of the river where the path crossed it. After that water crossing it was good-bye group. I swear they flew down the path. Meanwhile I had to slow down to cope with the ever-changing variables in front of me. I entered the canyon and had my good balance side on the uphill. I was able to unclip and use the hillside as a balancing tool to help me get through the narrow path to avoid doing a slide or fall into the river. I reached the end of the canyon to see the group climbing up the side of this huge hill that formed one of the canyon walls. At this point I shouted to them that I was turning back. It had been only one half mile of challenging riding and I knew that going back was going to be harder. That narrow canyon pathway did me in. I knew it when I had to start thinking hard about keeping my balance while shifting my weight so I could unclip on my bad side while not shifting my weight so far that I would overbalance and end up in the river. There was no room on the downhill side to unclip. A rock formation was just ahead of me. The dirt path was only inches wide. Desperately I tried to unclip before reaching the rock but didn’t make it. I threw my bodyweight to the right, landing on my side on the rock as my back wheel slid out from under me. Momentum caused a very intimate encounter with my top tube. I started sliding downhill towards the river with my left foot still clipped in. I grabbed my bike’s top tube with one hand and the rock with my other stopping my descent. I lay there for a moment thankful I didn’t drop into the drink before getting myself unclipped, upright and moving again. At that point I could have given up and just walked back. “What does not kill you makes your stronger” is an adage I’ve often heard. With that thought in mind I remounted and continued slowly back up the track to the refuge of my car, paved roads and civilization. It certainly fit this experience of mine. I thought I was on a heightened sense of alert before the fall. After the fall it was incredibly intense. Sweat was pouring off of me like crazy. It was more from mental strain trying to keep my body coordinated upright and moving than from the physical effort of pedaling. I made it back to the car without further incident. The group caught back up with me at our meeting spot about 30 minutes later. It turns out every one of them took some kind of spill during the ride including one teen who was very proud of the endo he did. We swapped stories, compared scratches, scrapes and bruises and tallied up how many tubes we went through. Everyone made it through ok. As we got ready to leave the group was talking about what mountain or trail to conquer for next week’s ride.
Re: A Life Experience SCC - I am so glad you are okay! I think you are brave and courageous. Keep riding!
Re: A Life Experience Oh, SCC - I am SO impressed by your determination to get out there and just DO it! I've fallen off my bike enough times on FLAT terrain to know that what you've described would terrify me. And if the physical challenge didn't do me in, the mental challenge would. I, too, think you are brave and courageous!!!! WooHOOO for you!!!!
Re: A Life Experience Bravo! Nothing will help your balance like a bike and you sure are at the most challenging level! I have ridden a bike ever since I lost one balance nerve and I credit that with some of my recovery. I admit I just do rails/trails, no cars, no cliffs, no clips. Be safe but keep going!
