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So, today got off to a good start. Ryan and I met at the Temple Quarry trail for a morning ride. Being that his dérailleur is broken and mine is acting funny, we decided to single speed it and mash our way through the snow. The climb was very arduous. Usually, it takes about 35 minutes to ascend the trail, but after the same amount of time today, we were but a quarter the way up. Soon after a breather, we realized the beaten snow ended and we were facing six to eight inches of fluff, topped only by the two thin trails that only cross-country skis leave behind. “Let’s turn it and burn it” I said to Ryan.

The wire donkeys served us well on the way down the trail. We had a great time picking funny lines and blasting through the snow. Winter riding can be especially precarious. Being the first snow ride of the season, I had to pay close attention so as not to head off the beaten path in the deeper snow. A few times, I was quickly reminded of this fact when I lost my line and found myself completely unable to correct. The snow will bring you to a halt quite quickly while making it impossible to steer, but keeping the rear wheel spinning can help. Being that this was the first ride I had the new frame out, I was paying special attention to how the bike rode. So far, I’m very happy with it. It’s much more stiff and much more responsive to my input.

Once we reached the parking lot, we decided to good off a bit. We found a huge rock to climb and picked some great lines through the sticks. We found a great hill to climb and at the top, found a cool little drop. Though I didn’t realize it, my ride was about to be over; and quick.

Ryan hit the drop and popped a few rocks on the way down. Though I was a bit nervous, I hit the drop and stuck it. I got squirly after my landing and dismounted the bike. I clipped back in, and pedled toward a small rock. What I didn’t see, was the smaller rock just down the hill and right smack in the middle of my line. I hit the drop and the my front wheel hit the smaller rock. I felt the rear of my bike come up as my fork compressed, eating up almost all four inches of travel. Though it was happening so fast, I remember thinking I was still okay. Of course, my fork had yet to rebound, and when it did, I knew instantly the results were not going to be good.

I remember thinking “tuck” as I went over the bars. Being that I had been in this position a mere ten months ago, the feeling was quite familiar. I hit the ground with my neck and right shoulder then rolled out of my fall. I instantly jumped up and swung both arms above my head in an attempt to convince myself that I was okay. “Your bike is okay,” I remember hearing Ryan say. He was great, showing his concern, being suppirtive, but not crowding me I paced for a minute, moving my arm, telling myself I was okay. Then the nausea hit. Not good.

I tried to make it go away, I wanted it to go away, but I knew what I was feeling. I was hurt, not as bad as last time, but I was hurt. I sat down to help the nausea pass, but it wouldn’t. I felt like I needed to lie down. As I moved towards the car, Ryan helped carry my bike. He put my bike into my roof rack and I laid the seat back, trying to make the sick feeling I had in my gut disappear. Nothing seemed to be working. A few minutes later, I made the executive decision to drive home. I did so, slowly, still obviously in shock.

After returning home, I gingerly undressed and showered. Being that I had done this before, I remembered exactly how to dress. Loose shirt, for sure, but no matter what, I wouldn’t move my arm. Call me vain, but I hate going to the hospital - or anywhere for that matter- dirty. Actually, I didn’t end up at the hospital, rather an after hours clinic, which is where I began to write this post. Did I ever mention how much I love my iPhone?

So, here’s the verdict: Grade I separation of the shoulder, and muscle and ligament strain in my neck and upper back. I was discharged, picked up some meds, and now find myself sitting on the couch, watching Adam Sandler play Zohan.

What does this mean for my thirty rides in thirty days goal? Well, the last thing the good doctor said to me on the way out was “no bike riding.” I want to take the advice, but since I’m half-way to my goal, feel very strongly about continuing. Perhaps if I moved my mountain bike’s rear brake lever to the left, I could still get in some ride time; then again, it is getting close to winter and if I happen to fall and do more damage to the shoulder, I’ll be even more angry with myself than I already am. So, we’ll see how I feel tomorrow; then again, maybe I should just let myself heal.