I went out riding in the snow last night. I rode a trail that we know as “bastard corners”. It’s a good one to see how well you’re riding as there is a whole sequence of open rooty corners. Some with adverse camber, some of which tighten.
Up until that trail, I’d been riding pretty well. The snow was wet and slippery, half turning back into water. But the Pugsley was doing a fine job of keeping rolling. On the last of the bastard corners, though, I went in somewhat fast, leaned the bike way over, and got my weight on the front tyre. The tyre took the entire surface of snow off and slapped my knee into the stem before an awkward dismount.
I knew it was kind of bad. I wanted to sit, but I was surrounded by wet snow. I was making involuntary noises as I waited for the brightest lights of pain to recede. And it didn’t just hurt on my knee, it hurt on the muscle surrounding it. It felt wet and hot and messed up.
Eventually, I tried to walk a bit. Not very well, so I tried to pedal a bit. I couldn’t do that at all. So I trudged. I thought about the narrowest margins that can lead to success or failure. I couldn’t yet tell if this was going to be a serious injury – I thought probably not. But then I thought about Shaggy busting his knee on the West Highland Way. And I thought about Billy busting his knee on the Iditarod in 2009. During an event, this might be game over. And yet I was riding within what I considered a safe margin. So much rides on belief. You have to believe that you will be OK when you go into a section. And you have to believe that you can deal with the consequences if it goes wrong.
My consequences were that I was hobbling through the snow by myself at 9pm at the furthest point from the car. I had a spare jacket, but no certainty that I could do any more pedalling. After 10 minutes or so, I could manage on the bike but not on hills. I cruised back trance-like in the pool of my helmet-light.
In reality, the injury is not too bad. I can walk, but stairs are a problem. I’ll probably be able to ride a bike soon. And I was far from immobile at the time. But it was a reminder of what plans can be ruined by small mistakes.
