Mishap 3.0

Usually when things go awry it is a end result of numerous changes from an original plan. For the last three Thursdays I have had things go slightly awry, as in fall down or crashes.  If we could just stick to “the plan” then everything would turn out. But then life would be SO boring. Right? The plan was to head up to Corbly Gulch and go running. Then the beetle got stuck due to large ruts from hell about a mile from the trailhead. So I  diverted from the plan and hopped on my mountain bike. My new plans were to ride for an hour and head out. I had some preparations for this weekend to do and needed to get back home early enough to get stuff done. Then on some boulder strewn  single-track some motorcycles passed me. OK! New plans … go farther then the motor heads.

So I started hiking mostly and climbing up this loose steep climb. I started to hear the motorcycles again and knew they were having difficulty with “something”. I was curious as to what would stop a motor cycle.  When I finally reached them I could see that the trail was so steep and eroded that they were not going much further. I decided to show off. I jumped on my bike and tried to climb up to them. As to say, “get out of my way dude, I am more powerful then you”. As I neared them, and looking good, I hit a large rock and it became apparent I needed to dismount. Problem is I fell to the downhill side of the trail. My foot reached for purchase and only found air. I tumbled down a scree field and a large rick stopped my tumble by trusting its might into my upper chest. I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t lay there and complain so I got up, walked around the motor heads, and marched up the climb with the bike on my shoulder. The last guy I passed said, “amazing … I am impressed”.

When I got out of view I threw the bike down and clutched my arm. I couldn’t feel it and it hurt to breath. I decided I was no longer having fun. Mishap 3.0 had threw a bucket of water on my fun parade and I relented my attack on the Bridger Range. I needed to turn around and descend, in case I was hurt more then I thought. Down the trail I ran into the group I had passed.

“Does it get any worse”?

“Yep, it goes straight up for another couple miles. I am bailing and heading down”, I yelled as I bombed down the trail past them.

On down the trail I noticed their abandon bikes. Yes! I had beaten the motorbikes. But Corbly Gulch had beaten me.

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