Monday, April 14, 2014

Wounded Weekend Warrior


Sunday, April 13, was a beautiful day here in the northern Piedmont - sunny, a nice breeze, and temperatures in the upper 70s - too nice to stay inside.  So Kali and decided to take our first bike ride of the year on the Delaware and Raritan Canal State Park towpath trail that parallels the Delaware Rive in New Jersey north of Trenton.

The day was perfect and the ride was great until just before the end.  This winter's ice storms had brought down a lot of woody debris alongside the path that the state park folks had not yet had a chance to clear.

Because the day was so nice, there were a lot of riders.  I was following closely behind Kali, who moved toward the verge of the path to give oncoming riders room to pass.  Kali's bike caught the end of a branch alongside the trail, but didn't interfere with her ride.  However, the branch snapped back and became entangled in my front wheel's spokes.

The bike (and I) went down unceremoniously and I slid, mostly face-first, toward the Delaware River over a steep embankment with a thick growth of multiflora roses.  Fortunately, I was wearing my helmet (as I always do) and only got scratches and scrapes.  Oh, and I jarred my neck a bit, too, which is still stiff today.  But, all in all, it could have been worse.
Ouch!
Kali took these pictures after we got back home.  I look more and more like my father (now deceased) every day.
Looks worse than it is

6 comments:

Carolyn H said...

Yikes, those are some nasty-looking cuts. i hope you are feeling okay today.

packrat said...

Glad you're okay, Scott. If that had happened to me the first thing I'd have done upon popping up would have been to look around to make sure nobody was watching.

Mark P said...

I cringed when I realized what this post was going to be about. I was relieved to find it wasn't too bad. I haven't been riding my bike for a while (I do it indoors on a stationary bike for now), but lots of bikers come up and down the mountain here. When I walk the dogs, I always kick the stray rock or limb off the pavement because I can imagine a biker hitting something on their way down the mountain at 20+ mph.

Scott said...

Carolyn: Thanks for your concern. Only one of my employees even noticed that I was bruised and scratched, so that means either that (1) my employees are not very observant, (2) they're too polite to bring it up, or (3) the cuts and bruises are not too bad. I think it was a combination of all three, actually. My neck's still a little stiff, but I guess there's areal possibility that I could have broken my neck, so this is far preferable.

Scott said...

Packrat: Actually, as I mentioned, the trail was very busy and no less than four people rushed to the scene to see if they could help. So, nope, I couldn't get away with my dignity intact (but it sure is nice to know that people might have been willing to help if the situation had been really desperate).

Scott said...

Mark: You're a prince. I do the same thing when I'm walking in areas frequented by cyclists for exactly the same reason.