A Matching Set

Last week at Wakefield I cased the first jump on the Whoop-di-dos, piledriving into the dirt and essentially "dragging" my entire body across my handlebars enroute to landing chest-first on the ground, immediately followed by said bike flipping over and landing directly on top of me. Fortunately, I emerged unscathed other than a scraped shin and several bruises, including a really nice, deep, dark bruise on my right Asscheek.

Tonight I was riding along, approaching the big log at the entrance to Phase 1. I always go around this log - I just never have the guts to go for it, even though I know I can do it. So anyway, tonight I said to myself, I said: "what the hell - let's try going over the log! I'm sick of that thing making me back down all the time."

So, rolling towards the log, I decided to pop a practice wheelie to get the "feel" of what I'll need to do to make it over. I pull the bars back. I keep pedaling. The rear wheel, under my own power, continues forward under me. S-L-A-MMM!!! Down to the ground I go, right on - you guessed it - my left Asscheek!

I figure by Saturday I'll have a matched set of ass bruises. WOO HOO!

(Epilogue: along with my pride, I left my confidence on the ground where I fell. I spent the rest of the ride picking my way along like a blind man in a minefield. That sucked worse than the fall.)