This morning I took a spill on my bike. It was on one of my trails (I’m the Strava local legend) on one of my loops (that really only I know, as far as I know), on my time (I was the only person on the mountain).

I was descending a small single-track, and came around a corner I’ve done a hundred times. The dead, dry mountain grass lay on its side, and as I turned, banking to the left, my wheel slipped. I tried to gather myself, but I knew I was going down. I thought of putting my arm out to brace myself, but I didn’t want to break it, so I instead opted to hold on to the handlebars and hope for a miracle.

It was literally a split second from a controlled descent to impact with the ground.

I know I let out a scream, and the force of the ground equal and opposite to my body’s accelerated force toward the ground caused my scream to bounce, just as I rolled across the ground. It’s funny how certain seconds in life move like slow motion.

As I came unclipped from my pedals with the impact of the ground, I remember rolling a bit, and the back of my head hitting the ground and my helmet becoming slightly detached from my head. My first thought:

Dang! I hope I didn’t break my brand new helmet!

After I stopped sliding along the ground, I pulled my helmet off, and sure enough, I had detached the visor, and I had broken the shell casing around my head. And it wasn’t even a big impact. Grrrr. (Interesting, I wasn’t even concerned about my bike, because I knew it wasn’t that bad of an accident. Funny how your bike becomes a part of you!)

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People are funny!

On Saturday, there I was, doing my first HC climb of the year, the iconic Alpine Loop, approx. 40 miles, and approx. 3,500 feet of climbing. As I was riding up the first portion of American Fork Canyon, around the Timpanogos Cave area, I was doing my thing. Steady and strong and in a groove, but not certainly not sprinting or anything crazy.

As I was riding along, a biker approached me on the left. Not totally uncommon, but usually I like to be the one doing the passing! I looked to my left, and there was an oldish guy (50’s) motoring past me. I acknowledged him and smiled and said, “Hey! Good morning!” I waited for a reply. And he looked me up and down, then stared me straight in the eyes and with a kind of crusty look on his face, simply said, almost tauntingly: “Hi.” Then he looked forward and kept on going.

Good for him, I thought to myself! I hope that I can be in that kind of shape. With younger kids, I’m going to need to stay in shape if I’m ever going to bike with them! But kind of a weird interaction. Some bikers are chatters, some are more serious. I guess I’m a chatter! Whatever! And I didn’t think much else about it.

Then a few miles later, on the climb near Mutual Dell, I saw a familiar figure. I checked out the bike, and sure enough, it was my “hi” friend from just before. Again, I wasn’t showboating or anything, but was just keeping my pace. As I passed him on the left, I smiled and gave him a nod and another “Hey! Good morning!” This time he didn’t turn his head at all, but rather looked straight forward with a ticked off look on his face and didn’t even acknowledge me at all.

So I passed him on by, and thirty seconds or so later, I gave a glance back, and I had dropped him. He was way back there, and I never saw him again.

People are funny! Apparently this guy wasn’t impressed with me when he passed me, and even less impressed when I passed him. Kind of a bummer, because it was a gorgeous day. I was having a good time. It was his choice not to.

There’s just something about a new bike….

My buddy across the street called yesterday in a hurry. He was at the bike shop and wanted to know if he should buy this bike. His wife had given him permission, and he’d been thinking about getting into a little bit better shape and it was a pretty good deal….

Short answer: Yes!

After he got home he shot me a picture of his new steed.

And the following text conversation ensued:

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