Up in the Colorado mountains, my husband and I pedaled down Lucy’s Loop, a green (supposedly easy) bike path. As we downshifted, he took the lead and pumped like a locomotive as we climbed a steep, rocky, hill. (Well, with the terrain aside, he also pedaled like a ban-chi because his bike was a size too small–don’t ask, something to the effect of someone took his rental during pit stop at the top of the gondola grill.)
As slope steepened, the Red Baron cycling in front of me started to slow.(My husband fashions himself a reincarnated barnstormer from WWII, I call him Baron for short).
Blame the unstable ground or the mis-sized bike frame but the Baron’s front tire started to weave. It twisted from left to right. Danced back and forth until we reached a decrepit wooden bridge. Then the Baron’s bucking bronco kicked back on its rear tire and wheeled into a dry ditch. (Picture a horse on its hind legs falling backwards but the Baron was on a mountain bike instead of a four-legged stallion)
No, no need to worry. The Baron and his bike weren’t seriously injured. They both walked away with a solid and very well defined goose egg.
*Note to self: never, ever leave the house without an instant cold pack and a travel size Neosporin in your pocket. (Advil wouldn’t hurt)
*Ancient Native American saying: Don’t get caught in the wild with your hide down. Having your insurance group plan and ID number saved in your cell phone can come in handy when the medicine men show up and you’re without a wallet.
E.L. Chappel author of Risk
First Aid/CPR trained
aka The Glamorous Wife