Napa Valley Dirt Classic Damage Assessment

[Carl Sanders]

The day started out well enough; riders congratulating me on last weekend's Boggs finish, perfect weather, relaxed warm-up, front row line up.  Stayed with the top ten on the run-up off the gun.  Moved up a few positions on flats past the airport. Rode smooth through the looping single track, relishing the smooth ride of my Superfly 100. Easy drop and climb into and out of the big rock-strewn rollers.

All going well. Feeling strong, moving up a few more places. Then, on one of the fast road descents in a group of three or four riders, just before the hour mark, things changed abruptly.  Coming in hot on a hard right, the rider to my left trying not to overshoot the corner, swerved across my line, taking out my front wheel.

Instantly, my off-the-bike experience went into a strange, stop-action, slow-motion, kind of sensation; monitoring all in-flight, pre-impact controls; launched straight from the saddle, over the bars, rotating to port, a hard impact to the left side was immanent; the left hip takes the brunt of the first hit, then the left hand, spinning around trying to correct the rotation, takes the second hit; still spinning counter-clockwise, I then land flat on my back, fully expecting the water-filled camel back reservoir to explode on impact; instead, I skid along, head first, toes pointed skyward, conscientious of the need to keep my head up, chin tucked until I grind to a halt, still bonking my helmet on the last bump.

All of this live or die data processed within a few very vivid moments. I had not the ground that hard in a long time.

Time for Damage Assessment.  I sit trying to collect my thoughts. The nearby course Marshall looked over in horror, not even moving over to offer assistance. She seemed more in shock by what she had just witnessed than, by what I just experienced. Riders roll by. I sit up, scramble to drag my bike of the course. Astoundingly, I didn't seem to have broken anything on my body or bike.  The nervous Marshall asked if I could stand. I try. The pain catches up with me; left hip and wrist start to throb. My back feels alright. I can only guess what my spin-saving camel back might look like.   

After more than five minutes attempting to get my head straight, my bike back together and find my glasses, I rolled back onto the course. This time with less kick and confidence.  I finished the loose and sandy descents and began the slow, steep set of climbs back up toward the airport. I had obviously had more than the wind knocked out of me.

Across the finish in 8th place, I was glad to be done for the day.  I'll be sore tomorrow.

 

 

[Paul Montgomery]

That moment happens without warning; experience and instinct are hard won...