"I'm heading out, hon," I said as I opened the
garage door and hopped on my bike to ride with my neighbor, Dave. As usual, the
refrain was, "Enjoy the ride and be safe."
"Yup," I replied and was off.
I always smile at that, because there are few places safer
than riding the trails on my bicycle. Even
so, I always wear a helmet with a rear-view mirror.
The Chuck Huckelberry Loop, known here as ‘The Loop,' is a
mecca for bicycle enthusiasts. Riders often come from far-away places to enjoy
riding on these well-marked off-road bike paths. As Fall temperatures approach, cooling the
air, months of sunny, temperate days are perfect for pumping the pedals.
The day could not have been better. Clear skies,
temperatures in the upper seventies – this morning the trail was not so busy. We
were shooting for eighteen miles. It would be a lovely ride.
It happened so quickly that there was no time to think.
Bump, wiggle, bang, and suddenly I found myself eating asphalt, stunned, breathless,
and unable to move. You can violate the law of gravity, but when you do, there
is a price to be paid. I had taken a ninety-degree corner off the bridge a
little too quickly and leaning in, caught the corner rail with my
bike. While the distance to the ground was not so great, gravitational
accelerating forces of thirty-two feet, per second, per second were invoked
with prejudice. Boom! And that was all she wrote.
How it got to this…
Dave and I have been riding off and on since Molly and I
moved to Oro Valley. We enjoy each other's company. If a person wants an enjoyable and lengthy
time in the saddle, Tucson is the place to do it.
A few years older than me, Dave loves to ride. The Oro
Valley portion of the trail lends itself to his passion for pedaling. There are
gorgeous views of the mountains and clean, clear air.
The issue for Dave has been the toll taken by time and
gravity on his seventy-seven-year-old legs. As much as he enjoyed being in the
saddle, it was getting more and more taxing to ride. That is until now. A
couple of weeks before we headed out, he purchased an e-bicycle. For the uninitiated,
an e-bike is an electrical-assist machine that provides power for those slight,
but pesky inclines that are part of riding the trails.
Our rides are social events, and until the arrival of his
electric bike, we rode so slowly that (and this is true), more than a few
joggers passed us by. With the advent of
his new bicycle, a step change was coming.
“Look out now, pardner,” he said in his southwestern twang.
“I’ll be burning those hills, and not care about the wind. You’re gonna have to
work to keep up.” Like a kid on
Christmas day, his smile could have lit the morning sun.
I grinned and replied, “No problem – ‘pardner.’”
The event in question occurred as we crossed one of the many
bridges that span the broad washes here. Washes are water pathways that look
like dry riverbeds…that is until the monsoon season when they become dangerous torrents
water violently rushing down from the mountains – hence ‘washes.'
We were into the ride about twelve miles. He was ahead and
pulling away. When the ninety-degree turn at the far end of the bridge came, I
didn't slow down enough. The back of my bike caught the edge of the railing. I
bounced to the other side of the trail, hit the railing, lost
control, and went down like a pregnant elephant. The ‘thud' was stunning, and
as I lay there unmoving, it was not clear what damage had occurred.
Initially, I couldn't move and struggled to breathe. My
first thought was that I had fractured a rib and maybe punctured a lung. I
could wiggle everything (fingers and toes) but couldn't roll over or get up. A
couple of passing Samaritans helped me sit up where I stayed for a few moments.
Then they got me to my feet.
Gently touching appropriate places, and in
spite of the excruciating pain in the upper right quadrant of my chest, it
appeared, no bones were broken. While on my feet, I couldn’t stand up straight or
breathe without extreme discomfort.
The good news is the paths lie in relative proximity to
roads. Molly came to get me and whisked me off to the emergency room for a
thorough body check.
In the end, all was good. Aside from a rather unsightly bruise on the side of my right buttocks, a couple of strawberries (knee and
elbow), and two weeks of labored breathing, the healing process did what it was
supposed to do.
Last week I was back on the bike taking a little more care
on bridge crossings and appreciating that this could have been much worse…even
life-threatening.
Life isn't really about the expected, but the
unexpected. What I should have said as I
headed out the door, “Yes, ma’am. Love you!”
After all, the outcome could have been very different…
- ted
