Joined
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6,164 Posts
I like watching Dr Who. Especially Tom Baker.
What has that got to do with 29'ers you ask?
Well, it all started innocently enough...
I was dusty, sweaty and hot, even though it hadn't been a really high temperature day here in Oz where I live and ride.
The ride to the trailhead had warmed me up nicely, I felt good and ready to tackle the trails. When I reached the start, I stopped and took a big drink of hammergel and water mix from the bottle on the downtube. Conditions were dry and it would be very fast on the downhill sections.
The bird mating and breeding season was past, so I wouldn't be dive-bombed by those damn screeching nest protectors whilst trying to negotiate the slower uphill sections through the trees.
Everything was looking good for another sweet ride.
As I pedalled into the start of the trail, the aroma of the bush filled my nostrils, and I felt so lucky to be able to ride here.
The trail proved to be very fast, as I thought it would be. The 29'er flew across the ground, the Exi's holding nicely in the corners as I leaned the bike over hard between the trees.
As I got into the groove and started to flow smoothly with the trail, I became one with the machine and my surroundings, the bike disappeared and I was flying several feet above the ground, my eyes on the trail, everything in synch, smooth, quiet, peaceful.
I ..... flowed .... into and out of corners, rises and dips, trees and bushed flicked by me, seen but unseen, rock and roots hammered at the tires and frame, I felt them, but was unaffected by their input. The minutes flew quickly by me as I sped along.
Down the hill I flew, approaching the tight off-cambered right hand turn at the bottom.
I was on auto, my body reacted without thought as my eyes assessed the severity of the grade, the corner ahead, the amount of braking needed to make the corner, the angle of lean, all the information channeled through the onboard computer in my head, the answers came back, this much...... this much..... this much.... input, reactions, but no conscious thoughts.
Brakes..... now ... lean hard, brakes feathered, weight on the outside pedal....... rear tire sliding, further, further, running out of trail, drifting towards the edge, just a touch on the front brake ........................ too much !!!
Front end gone...........>
Time slows.. goes into ........................ sloooooooooooooooooooow motion.
I feel the bike dropping from me as the front end tucks under, seconds stretch
into minutes, time dilates, I move sloooooowly through the air, my eyes looking for
a soft spot to land on, but seeing only hard rocky ground. My hands come out
in front of me . . . . . . . . slooooooooooooooowly, I move towards the grey
dirt that has captured all my attention
and focus. I have so much time to see the twigs, pebbles, stones, roots, even a small black beetle which crawls slooowly across the dusty ground beneath my flight.
My hands touch down.....................................
The impact snaps me back into real-time. I feel as if I am travelling so fast now as I smash into the hard ground, roll over and over, the rocks biting into my flesh. Behind me I can hear my bike sliding and tumbling with me.
In a final cloud of dust, I come to a sliding stop. I am numb. There is no pain...yet.
But I know it will come very soon. I get to my feet, and look at the bike lying on it's side near me. It looks unharmed.
Then, the pain starts... in waves of searing, hot intensity.
I am alive.
I pick up the bike and get on.... start pedaling.
My flow has gone.
Now I am just a human being in pain.
I start back towards home.
The blood trickles down my leg into my sock and shoe.
My palms sting, I can feel the gash on my hip oozing blood.
It is a looooooong ride home. Time drags by sloooooooooooowly.
R.
What has that got to do with 29'ers you ask?
Well, it all started innocently enough...
I was dusty, sweaty and hot, even though it hadn't been a really high temperature day here in Oz where I live and ride.
The ride to the trailhead had warmed me up nicely, I felt good and ready to tackle the trails. When I reached the start, I stopped and took a big drink of hammergel and water mix from the bottle on the downtube. Conditions were dry and it would be very fast on the downhill sections.
The bird mating and breeding season was past, so I wouldn't be dive-bombed by those damn screeching nest protectors whilst trying to negotiate the slower uphill sections through the trees.
Everything was looking good for another sweet ride.
As I pedalled into the start of the trail, the aroma of the bush filled my nostrils, and I felt so lucky to be able to ride here.
The trail proved to be very fast, as I thought it would be. The 29'er flew across the ground, the Exi's holding nicely in the corners as I leaned the bike over hard between the trees.
As I got into the groove and started to flow smoothly with the trail, I became one with the machine and my surroundings, the bike disappeared and I was flying several feet above the ground, my eyes on the trail, everything in synch, smooth, quiet, peaceful.
I ..... flowed .... into and out of corners, rises and dips, trees and bushed flicked by me, seen but unseen, rock and roots hammered at the tires and frame, I felt them, but was unaffected by their input. The minutes flew quickly by me as I sped along.
Down the hill I flew, approaching the tight off-cambered right hand turn at the bottom.
I was on auto, my body reacted without thought as my eyes assessed the severity of the grade, the corner ahead, the amount of braking needed to make the corner, the angle of lean, all the information channeled through the onboard computer in my head, the answers came back, this much...... this much..... this much.... input, reactions, but no conscious thoughts.
Brakes..... now ... lean hard, brakes feathered, weight on the outside pedal....... rear tire sliding, further, further, running out of trail, drifting towards the edge, just a touch on the front brake ........................ too much !!!
Front end gone...........>
Time slows.. goes into ........................ sloooooooooooooooooooow motion.
I feel the bike dropping from me as the front end tucks under, seconds stretch
into minutes, time dilates, I move sloooooowly through the air, my eyes looking for
a soft spot to land on, but seeing only hard rocky ground. My hands come out
in front of me . . . . . . . . slooooooooooooooowly, I move towards the grey
dirt that has captured all my attention
and focus. I have so much time to see the twigs, pebbles, stones, roots, even a small black beetle which crawls slooowly across the dusty ground beneath my flight.
My hands touch down.....................................
The impact snaps me back into real-time. I feel as if I am travelling so fast now as I smash into the hard ground, roll over and over, the rocks biting into my flesh. Behind me I can hear my bike sliding and tumbling with me.
In a final cloud of dust, I come to a sliding stop. I am numb. There is no pain...yet.
But I know it will come very soon. I get to my feet, and look at the bike lying on it's side near me. It looks unharmed.
Then, the pain starts... in waves of searing, hot intensity.
I am alive.
I pick up the bike and get on.... start pedaling.
My flow has gone.
Now I am just a human being in pain.
I start back towards home.
The blood trickles down my leg into my sock and shoe.
My palms sting, I can feel the gash on my hip oozing blood.
It is a looooooong ride home. Time drags by sloooooooooooowly.
R.
Nice writeup RM. Just like being there, for better or worse.
