Mountain Bike Accident

While we were on our Spring Break in the desert near Green River, we planned on taking a ride or two on our mountain bikes.

Garrett and the other guys went on a RZR ride and came back with the "perfect route."

The next morning, Garrett came inside our camp trailer and said, "Amanda, Justin, and Kurt are getting ready for the mountain bike ride.  Do you want to go?"

I excitedly told him "yes" and got changed and ready.

As I was finishing up, I realized that I had forgotten my helmet at home, but I figured I would be fine.

We all hopped in the truck...Garrett, Justin, Austin, Kurt, and me, but no Amanda.  I asked where Amanda was and was told that she changed her mind and wanted to go running later that day instead.

I was bummed.  Me and three guys?!?  Ya right.

I offered to let Garrett ride my bike, but he told me that I should go.  I really did want to go, so I didn't argue with him.

Garrett pulled out of our campsite and hopped on the freeway.  I was surprised by the quick, steep climb in elevation.  He pointed out that this was a mostly downhill ride and that should be tons of fun.  I was excited.

Oddly enough as we neared the point where Garrett was planning on dropping us off, the guys all got on the subject of DNR--Do not resuscitate.  Garrett, totally jokingly, told them that if I wrecked, we have a DNR agreement.  Don't bring me back in a vegetative state.  We all laughed and hopped on our bikes.

Justin offered me his helmet a couple of times, but I declined.  I have been riding bikes now for years, have never wrecked more than just tipping it over here and there, and have never needed a helmet.  I didn't figure today would be any different.

We started out and even though it was a little difficult, it was fun.  We all stopped as we came upon an old, grumpy wild burro.  It sat beside the trail grunting and snorting and not moving a muscle.  It just stared at us. The sun was just over the horizon and the air was still a bit chilly.  I was glad I had grabbed sunglasses and gloves at the last minute.  I took a couple more recovery breaths from the first leg of our trip as Austin and Justin headed out on their way again.  I followed.  The two of them were well ahead of me before I knew it.

My bike bounced, skidded, and slid as I maneuvered around rocks, dips, crevices, and bumps.  I had a couple close calls when my back tire wanted to come faster than my front tire, but I slowed down a little, recovered, stayed on my bike, and kept going.

I felt like I was really getting the hang of things.  My crazy bike was feeling a little more comfortable in my hands and under my feet.  Somehow, I didn't realize the amount of downhill momentum I was gaining until I started into a really rough patch of rocks on a steep slope.  I bounced, bumped, skidded, and then suddenly hit a large rock square on.  HARD.  Before I knew it, I was sailing over the handle bars.  I had the thought to tuck and roll, but I didn't want to keep rolling and not be able to stop, so I chose the skid method.  On my face.  My bike quickly followed, flipping through the air, and crashing 10-15 feet in front of me.

My first thought was that I had lost some teeth.  I clamped my mouth shut and felt a few of them rattling around.  I pulled off my glove and spit in my hand, expecting to see a few pearly whites.  I was so excited when I realized that it was just a mouthful of rocks, not teeth, collected on my face-first skid-landing.

But then the other things started to hurt.  My legs took a beating on the ground, my stomach caught the handlebars on the way over, and the skin on my face was a little munched.  I looked behind me and thankfully, Kurt hadn't caught back up after taking pictures of the wild burro.  He hadn't seen the wreck.  What a relief!  Justin and Austin must have heard the commotion because they stopped and asked me if I was okay.

I really was okay.  No broken bones, no missing teeth, no need for stitches, and no broken bike parts.  I was so blessed.  No helmet could've meant an ER visit or worse.  Instead, I came home with a fun story to tell.

I picked up my bike, hopped back on, and headed back to camp at a much slower pace.  Justin side-tracked me with stories of his multiple wrecks on our way back.

When we got back to camp, one of the first things Kurt said to Garrett was, "I know you said DNR, but she just got back up and followed us home."  Stinker.  :)

I am so thankful that I was able to get back up and follow them home.  What a blessing!

Here are some pictures of my wounds.  My pride was pretty deeply wounded as well, but I don't have any pics of that.  :)

I hope to have more pictures to share soon.  I have more on my lost camera.  For now, these will have to do.  I will have to see if Kurt has pics of the wild burro as well.

It was a fun trip with a good story.  And, Bl tells me, "It just makes you look tough!"  That's my boy.  :)