Over the weekend of November 17th, Cathy and I were excited to have Edward and Robin come to spend some time with us in
The four of us met Doug at the Hard Times Trailhead at Bent Creek on Saturday around 11:30 and the five of us took off on the start of a rather brisk fall day. We climbed through the Explorer side of Bent Creek, eventually starting the fire road climb to one of my favorite trails, one of the many Side Hill Trails (Upper). Referred to as “Comatose” by many of the locals, the trail features a grunt climb that opens up into flowing switch backs, becoming tighter and tighter as you approached the bottom of the trail (in essence, a mini Greens Lick). Doug had warned us that the leaves were masking the trail and making things treacherous on his last ride…
As we turned off the fire road onto Comatose, we took a break and Cathy and I shared a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, while the others enjoyed their snacks. Doug took off to lead us down, followed by Edward. I reminded Ed to be mindful of the leaves. Cathy and Robin followed and took their time, stopping and enjoying the remaining fall colors (which were beautiful). I pedaled along, following what I could of the trail, that wasn’t much more than a depression in the thick blanket of leaves. Edward and Doug had pulled away and I was having fun hitting all the jumps and putting my Dirt Diva clinic “limbo” skills to the test under a fallen tree and having to get on the brakes as I rounded the turn that approaches a log ride. I swung hard left, the rear end skittering around a little and as I released the brakes the rear tire caught tracking and I was flying once again…
Cathy was the first to find me, what we estimate to be some 5 – 7 minutes later. I was told that I was on my back, laying across the trail, unconscious and bleeding profusely from the right side of my face. At first she thought that I had been shot by a hunter and she believed that my right eye was gone. It was at this point that Robin arrived and apparently I was coming back to some level of consciousness. Cathy flew down the trail to retrieve Edward and Doug and as it just so happened, they had bumped into local rider David who joined in the rescue…
When they arrived back to where I had fallen, Robin had been joined by some young locals, one of whom was apparently versed in first aid. I have always been one to believe in being prepared, unfortunately it never occurred to anyone to check my pack for a first aid kit. Nonetheless they somehow convinced me to get up and start the walk down the trail. I have absolutely no recollection of any of the events, although somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, I can remember the sensation of sliding through leaves and saplings, trying to stop my momentum. I don’t know if I had gone off the trail, down the side slope and crawled my way back up or if I had merely skittered along the trail to where Cathy found me. Apparently I was laying perpendicular to the trail, feet toward the side slope, so that may indicate that I did climb back up the hill. I just don’t know…
My first recollection was about a mile and one hour later when out of nowhere, Doug’s car appeared and we got inside for the ride to Mission St. Joseph Hospital in Ashe Vegas. I remember very little of the ride or the conversations and my first real remembrance was being in the waiting room. Although the early hospital details come and go…
my eyebrow and the corner of my eye (I DO remember the injections to numb the wounds. That’ll light you up). Cathy told me that I was asked if I had any allergies to medication and I told them “No, but I respond well to Highland Gaelic Ale”. It’s strange that this computer system that manages our life (the brain) operates on some many different layers of consciousness. I remember very little of the entire ordeal, but I was told it was like I was under hypnosis, that I would do whatever was asked of me, although I apparently kept asking where we were and how we got there. I couldn’t believe that I was remodeling my house and that my hardwood floors had just been refinished. I was operating on a different level of awareness…
So here I sit at the Prickly Pear in Mooresville, some 7 months later, still wondering what might have happened. All I know is that I was glad I was wearing my now fractured helmet. In the grand scheme of things, helmets are cheap, my head isn't...
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