I snuck away for another quick ride in the pit during Ivy's nap today. Yesterday I was riding there with a couple of young punks on $3500 8-inch-travel bikes, so of course I had to push the envelope a bit.
Not that these are such monster leaps, but with the speed and drops, they can feel a bit hairy. I was pretty stoked about jumping some of the bigger jumps, particularly one that I hadn't attempted before. And today that one humbled me, reminding me that I'm 30, not 15.
It's kicker to a drop-off landing, so you fly maybe 15 feet out and probably seven or eight feet down from your highest point...if you land it right. I was having a blast on it, but on the last one I got too stoked and got my front wheel up too high, touching down at the very bottom of the transition and then looping out backwards so I landed on my back on the flat gravel. Ouch. Rank amateur move.
I busted my seat right off (bottom photo) and was lucky that I just got winded and hamburgered my back a bit (top photo). I can't imagine how sore I'll be tomorrow...but strangely enough, I can hardly wait to get back out there. Larry was teasing me on the phone tonight, asking if he should send me some training wheels.
