Crashing with confidence
Ive only been a mountain biker for about 2 years. Before that I just rode on cycle tracks and thought it was all a bit boring. All of a sudden, I found salvation and bought an Indian Fire Trail, which duly got nicked. Then I reached Mecca! A Team Titanium with Manitou EFCs. Each time I went out it was fat bloke on a mission. No descent would be fast enough - this was heaven!
Then one day after work, I went out to play with my mate Rich. 20 miles of slogging up hills, up to 40mph down, then it was time to go home. We were riding along Clatterford Road, Carisbrooke, at about 30mph really pumping the big ring, when apparently, somehow I lost it on deceptively straight flat bit. Tumbling down the road, a car screeching to a halt trying not to run me over, I was still clipped, when this kind gentleman helped me to the side of the road. What a coincidence - it was my mate Rich. What are you doing here? I asked, in between yells of pain. I then proceeded to tell him that Id been out for a ride. At this time, he sussed that all was not well in the Tubbs memory department. It turned out that I had concussion and a broken collar bone.
Later that night in hospital, it was apparent that I had about a five minute memory span, every five minutes asking the time and, sad muppet that I am, telling everyone the complete spec of my bike. Needless to say, Im completely recovered. My memory is back up to fifteen minutes. Three weeks after my accident, I was out again, this time I went straight over the handlebars, landing on a collar bone which was still broken. That hurt a bit too.
This waffle is more of a plea really. Next time youre out riding, if you see a fat bloke lying on the track, dont ride over me, phone an ambulance and Ill buy you a beer.
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