I went mountain biking with Jen last Wednesday: Three Larch, a standard local ride. About a mile or so down the descent, on a non-technical spot, I hit a big rut, and went over the bars. I'd been pushing my descending of late, trying to go faster. It was working, but apparently I'd pushed too far.
I landed on my left shoulder and my collar bone broke into a few pieces. I passed out for ten minutes. Good thing Jen was with me. At her persistence, I waited for the EMTs and Search and Rescue to get there and drag me out. She blogged about this (somewhat embarrassingly for me) on her blog site.
Things like this happen and you kick yourself: shouldn't have been pushing the descending, should have been paying closer attention, etc. It's a reminder that the sports I/we do are potentially dangerous. Strangely, one of the first thoughts I had when I came to after the wreck was, "I should back off on my tree skiing at Snowbowl." I also thought, "Shit, I'm way the heck back in the woods." On a bike you can get so far so fast. It's a good thing to remember.
These concerns are in my mind now. Will it change me? I hope just enough: not too much, nor too little.
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