Met my derby gal pal Skunky for a quick roll at the riverbottom! (Fan her on Facebook under Skunky #42. She’d love to meet you!)
3.06 mi (4.92 km)
We rolled back to our vehicles and I decided I was still up for more so I headed back out by myself.
2.84 mi (4.56 km)
Total: 5.9 mi (9.48 km)
You know the ski saying of “accidents always happen on the last run of the day”?
Yup, totally true.
It was getting late into the evening and the paths were essentially deserted, so I decided to push my speed a bit more to find out how fast I could go.
Enter Deadman’s Curve
Maybe I’m exaggerating a little bit. This corner is at the bottom of a hill, has about an 80 degree turn with the path slanted down in the opposite direction of the corner. My kids have wiped out there on their bikes (with training wheels) and I usually approach this corner with caution, but tonight I was feeling cocky.
I take the hill at full speed… I chicken out halfway down… try and stop… start tripping over my toe stop… I launch myself into the ditch to avoid a face-meets-pavement catastrophe… I land with a resounding “oooof” with my wrists and thighs taking most of the impact. My bailing-out skills aren’t perfect so my left thigh got a nice scrape of pavement. Had I been wearing pants I likely would have come away unscathed.
I looked up to find no one had witnessed my grace… damn. It would of been neat to know how that looked.
I picked the grass out of my wrist guards and socks, dusted off my shorts and continued on my way.
Today my right wrist and right shoulder are a little achy; my left thigh is barely bruised, but all-in-all I survived the hardest fall I’ve taken to date. I’m sure there will be more of that to come.
Deadman’s Curve… it’s on.