Another good ride today. Yes, I said another. When you’re in recovery mode you count your good rides on one hand. And you thank your lucky stars each time you extend another finger on that hand.
I pedaled up to White Ranch (Golden, Colorado is very hard to beat for riding right out the door). There were a few clouds about, but the radar looked clear before I left.
Warming up on the pavement was a good thing (isn’t it always?), because the climbing is pretty relentless on the trail. I took Long Horn and Short Horn (more steep climbing) trails before topping out at the upper parking area. I felt hints of the dreaded leg pain that has been plaguing me, but just like the last “good” ride, it never settled in. I was almost tired at the top, but a quick spin through the meadows recharged me.
I love the meadows up there. The drainages are showing fall color right now, too. Plenty of good visuals.
Maybe too many visuals. I got lost in my thoughts while descending Mustang Trail. There’s only a few feet of trail that you can get away with not paying attention, but I managed to doze off anyway. Maybe it’s that damn Behemoth bike of mine — makes all the trails ’round here seem easy.
Anyway, everything was kind of invisible. I was just floating down the trail, happy to be alive and “out.”
Then I was picking myself off the ground. I haven’t crashed since early June, so the time was right. Seems I usually crash about every three months. Usually it is completely dumb and on a section of trail that couldn’t remotely be called “difficult.”
Such was the case here. My pedal caught a rock on the side of the trail that never registered in my brain. Don’t ask me how it managed to crash me, but the bike stopped moving and I didn’t. Minor damage–trail rash and a sore hip.
Ten seconds after dusting myself off (and storming up and down the trail in an adrenaline frenzy) I heard some thunder–and it was not far off.
The plan to not ride hard went out the window at that instant. I knew if I could get out to the Belcher Hill trail it was a fast ride back into the valley. But I had some riding first, and I was timid as hell.
“It was a dumb mistake, and one that won’t repeat as long as I stay focused.”
Of course that was true and it worked. I flew down the trail, and sprinted the uphill. Much to my delight my legs gave no negative response. It was almost too good to be true.
Flash… bang!
Getting too close for comfort. But Belcher was not far. Down the hill in a Behemoth Blur… and back home.
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