The Old Bag: Murphy Hanrehan

Showing posts with label Murphy Hanrehan. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Incongruity

The helmet mystifies me.

Granted, the chunk of missing plastic came from the spot in the helmet where the visor clips in, however there are scratches and gouges going in three different directions, two significant. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a fairly high-speed crash on some technical section, but there was nothing high-speed about my day. My other injuries, besides slight road rash on my left cheek, include a raspberry on my left shoulder and another on my right knee...no cuts, bruises, broken anything or road rash.

The jersey and knickers are intact. Shoes, gloves, elbows don't even show scuff marks. The front wheel is slightly out of true.

September had been a hellaciously busy month at work, and I hadn't been riding much. I wasn't feeling any need to push my pace or take features more complicated than a rock or two. The guys were off hammering, I was pulling up the rear and we'd regroup periodically. The trail was like cement due to a lack of rain, and was covered with a fine dust that rode a little greasy...earlier, I'd thought I'd let some air out at the next stop.

On the second lap I was happily wheeling along, and then I was standing there, looking at the trees and the trail: Whoa! I'm in the woods.

About the time Mark (WD) and crew were beginning to wonder about me, a rider came through and told them I'd spilled, that he'd helped me and hung around for a bit, that I was a little banged up but would be along. Mark texted me and started salmoning his way back down the trail.

I have no memory of the rider who helped me, no memory of the spill. I don't know if I had a loss of consciousness or if I functioned with amnesia. My awareness returned while standing in a spot that, according to my Garmin, was not where I spilled. I don't remember getting up and walking with my bike. About 10-15 minutes are lost. About 40 minutes are cloudy.

The Garmin implicated a curvy piece of trail that angled ever so slightly downhill. It wasn't anything gnarly (we initially thought it happened at a technical hairpin nearby), and according to the GPS I was going 6.5 mph. Given my vaporous recollections, the best I can put together is that I grabbed for my Camelbak bite valve, leaving me with a relaxed one-handed grip on the bars. As the trail curved right, there were exposed roots. I must have bobbled enough to be tossed forward and left. My helmet and face met a 4" tree on the left side of the trail before hitting the ground.

A beautiful kick-back day, greasy conditions, one-handed, roots, tree...the perfect storm.

- The Old forensics Bag

Sunday, October 07, 2012

Progression

Sunday 9/23

Fresh

Monday 9/24

Oozing

Tuesday 9/25

Blessed Tegaderm

Wednesday 9/26

Half-Day of Work (and a 7-mile easy trail ride)

Friday 9/27

Second of Two Days Spent Napping

after

Wed's Half-Day at Work (and 7-mile easy trail ride)

Saturday 9/29

Rested!

Sunday 9/30

Attitude is Good!

Sunday 10/7

Two Weeks Later

Now I'm concentrating on healing the INSIDE of the head.

-The recuperating Old Bag

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Gap

I looked to my right and narrowed my eyes.

...trees...trail...bright sunny day....

A studied look to my left brought the same conclusions. My right hand was on the saddle, left hand held the bars.

I’m out mountain biking.

I looked right again and squinted.

I’m mountain biking at Wirth Park.......No....this is...I’m at Murphy--I’m riding Murphy.

I’m at Murphy by myself?

It rolled around in my mind. Slowly the morning’s parking lot gathering coalesced in the fog of my thoughts. Snapshots of faces and clothing, bike pumps and helmets.

Wade’s in town. We’re all mountain biking.

My phone chimed as a text came through. I pulled it out of my jersey pocket and unlocked the screen. There was comfort in the act. I knew what to do.

WD: Heard you were down; waiting at the steps for you :-(

Me: Nit quite sure where I am

They’re waiting for me. They’re at the steps. We always regroup at the steps when we ride Murphy. They’re probably wondering where I am. I think I’m at Murphy. There’s a group of us....

...I don’t know how to get to the steps....

I looked down the trail right, then left.

WD: Are you disoriented or just not certain where you are?

Me: Its coming back...im at Murphy...remember talking to some guy? obviously I wiped out

There was hazy wisp in my mind: Yup I’m fine along with someone’s presence. I moved off of the trail and faced the woods—a rider was bound to come by eventually and I wanted some privacy in my bewilderment.

Did I talk to someone? I don't know where the steps are.

WD: Yes, he came by and said he waited with you, but you seemed ok.

Me: vague recollection of talking to him. Think I was out for a minute there

WD: that’s not good at all! Are you moving along the trail or are you just hanging out somewhere?

I don't know how to get to the steps.

Me: Can you come back? I’m standing here

WD: Yes. Go to your map app. And snap the screen and send it to me so I know where you are.

He’ll come to me. I don’t have to find the steps.

I heard a rider coming down the singletrack from my right. I watched him out of the corner of my eye and turned to see his back after he crossed behind me.

The trail goes from right to left. I know which way to go!

Me: Someone just rode by—I’ll start walking that direction. will snap map screen and send

I know which way to go to get to the steps!

As I fumbled with the screen shot, two riders stopped next to me. I think I was out for a bit, I said. I’m meeting friends. I touched my face then looked at my fingers. There was dirt and blood.

They told me the steps were quite a ways, and they walked with me for a bit. One pointed to a horse trail that led to the gravel road which would take me to the trailhead—I liked the idea of heading back to the car. I called WD.

I’m heading back to the parking lot. Two guys just showed me a trail that leads to the gravel road.

The directions were simple. I repeated them before thanking the riders, and they left. I turned to cut through the woods where I could see the horse trail.

Which way do I go?

I looked down the singletrack, but theriders were gone. I started through the woods.

I’ll figure out something when I get there.

Once on the horse trail I could see the gravel road. From the road I could see the trailhead just on the rise. I could see it. I threw my leg over the bike.