All story: Night Ride It's Don versus the "log". A rib tickling experience.
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Night Ride It's Don versus the "log". A rib tickling experience.

Sunday, 17 June 2012

N I G H T   R I D E

By Don TRUE - Copyright © 1995 - All Rights Reserved

Last night after going to the Clinton Trail meeting, since we were in Lawrence anyway, we went over to the River Trails and did some night riding. There was Mark, Nancy the Nurse and a new guy named Mike something. Mark lent me his helmet mounted Night Sun with, I think, 10 watts of awesome light power. This is a great light.I was trying to follow Mike Something, who is a NORBA racer type guy with 3 percent body fat, 135 pounds, about 25 years old and lungs transplanted from a large ape. He was blasting down the trails in his Specialized Jersey, throwing the bike left and right and over logs, just generally leaving the rest of us to eat his dirt. I was next in line and cranking much too fast for 10:30 at night with a partial moon. But it was SO much fun!
I made it about 5 miles down the trail and sensibly walked over the Four Foot Log. Mike Something had to show us all that the Log was rideable even in the dark. With him in the lead again, Mark, Nancy and me threw our best judgment out the window and tried to keep up with this young Mountain Bike Studley. I was about 500 feet behind Mike "Studly" doing about 20 mph, downhill, with a big "this is the most fun a person can ever have" grin on my face, when my front tire fell into a 2 foot wide hole filled with sand. Of course my "Y" bike came to a screeching HALT! I however continued over the handle bars landing flat on my left back shoulder blade and hip. I was now lying flat on my back, turned looking back down the trail, with absolutely no air left in my lungs to scream for Mark and Nancy to stop. I saw their head light reflections bouncing in the trees as they rapidly approached me lying flat on my back across the pitch black trail. I knew they were both just going to ride up and over me and continue on down the trail. Later, they might say something to each other about hitting some very large, ugly road kill back there.
Right before Mark went over his bars, he said he heard this little weak voice trying to yell; "I'm down. I'm down. Don't kill me." My feeble warning gave Mark just enough time to apply some brakes and his roll over was slow and easy and almost in control. He then started screaming hysterically for Nancy the Nurse to stop and not kill both of us. She locked up her brakes and skidded half way down the hill and stopped just short of us.
For the next 5 minutes, Nancy and Mark were witness's to the setting of a new Guinness World record. I now hold the title to the; "Greatest number of times the F word came be repeated in any 5 minute time period."
I couldn't get up, cause my left side had no strength and was in total pain. Mark had to pull me off my back and onto my feet. At this point Nancy the Nurse's medical personality took over and examined my cuts and scrapes on my knees and legs. But, when she pulled down my Giordana Shorts to my knees to examine the huge yellow bruise on my left hip, I felt a little embarrassed.Her helmet mounted Night Sun light seemed always directly pointed to my withdrawn, confused and illuminated manhood. She simply replied she was a trained professional doing a job. But when she joined in the gut wrenching laughter with Mark and Mike, I couldn't help but start attempting to better my previous World Record.
I tried getting on my bike, but failed when I couldn't push down with my left hand on the handle bars. So Mike straddled the front tire and held the handle bars and bike solid, while Mark and Nancy lifted me up on the bike seat. Then they gave me a shove down the path to get me started. I could still pedal and hold on with my right hand. We slowly rode back to the trail head and Mark loaded my bike in the van. Then Mike drove me to the Hospital in Topeka, about 30 miles away.
On the way, I called Judith on my new Cell phone and told her to meet me at the Emergency room with my Insurance papers. And between snorts of laughter and several "I told you so" she asked if the all important, budget busting "Y" bike was OK. When I told her it was fine, we were suddenly disconnected.
At the Hospital, I was worked in between the guy that fell over in his bath tub and the guy that was shot in the leg. The gun shot victim must have been a member of the LA Raiders Football Team cause him and about 15 other members of the Team were all wearing their Team jackets. I think they were attempting to set some kind of Team Worlds record for saying the F word repeatedly in front of Police officers.
They wheeled me into the X-ray room, and put my bare naked butt down on the coldest X-ray table in the United States. I mean parts of this table had frost on it! After 5 X-rays the operator left the room and said the doctor would be in soon for the diagnosis. It seemed strange that during this time, nurses, one by one, would traipse into the room and ask to "examine" my hip bruise. But as the male attendant that stopped these frequent exams, wheeled me past the Nurse station, I over heard one of them chucking into the phone; "Thanks for the Hot Tip, Nancy."
They release me, with a prescription for Tylenol 3 with Codeine, a tetanus shot in the rear and x- rays that show the 5th and 6th ribs on my left side cracked and bruised. The "Y" bike is fine.


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