Monday, May 30, 2011

rattled

Sailed over the bars.
Landed with a resounding thwack on the left side of my face/head.
Left knee drug its way across the ground immediately thereafter.
Bike was up the slope, behind me.
Too hot around a soft turn.
Too fast, too cocky.
Chasing the fast kids.
And my dad.
They weren't too far ahead.
Far enough to grant me a few seconds alone.
Alone to assess what was luckily no damage.
Me? Check.
helmet? check (good. so sure I heard that sound...that crashy-helmet sound)
Me again? um, check.
No blood.
Just a tiny bit of blood.
Here is Kathleen, looking a bit concerned.
"I'm fine. Really."
Here is Bill.
"I'm totally fine. Look."
Pick up my Salsa. Untangle Salsa.
Brakes? Yes, check.
Three others are up the trail a little.
"You crash? You okay?"
My dad.
"yep...all good."

Let's ride.
Rattled.
Been a while since I went down like that.
Think of Max and how he took a header in the driveway the other day in front of his friends.
On foot.
How was his skull not split open, by the way?
Jesus. That kid.
He so wanted to cry.
he didn't cry.
I didn't cry.

Hot freaking hot hot hot day.
two hours.
Fair Hill.
Superb loop.
"Ron's hangover pace" (as my dad calls it) is lively for sure.
But, good.
It's a good, spirited pace.
Rattled.
Hot and sticky and humid and buggy and dusty and gross.
Good times.

those blooms from the tulip poplars are all over the place! Love that orange.

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