The crisp winter air felt good stinging my exposed cheeks as a new play list with freshly purchased songs had my mind drifting and my lips smiling. Miles swept by as I continued to enjoy the landscape.
Rounding a corner, I noticed a rock free from any snowfall which stood out like a sore thumb. And then, the rock raised his head.
The old bull elk briefly stared at me, then returned to burrowing into the snow for breakfast. His big body was evidence of the wet spring providing abundance during the growing season.
I kept plodding forward and noticed a odd-shaped snow angel beside the trail. Upon closer inspection, I had deep and serious hardy-hars when I figured out that a mountain biker had plunged beside the trail. Chuckling at his misfortune, and wishing I had been a witness, I hit a downhill portion and picked up speed.
Two twenty-somethings were coming up the slope as I whizzed past them with a cordial, "Good Morning."
And then, I wiped out. It was not a simple face plant, oh no, that would not be fair. This was a classic crash highlighted by momentum taking my body off the trail and log rolling downhill through brush with snow exploding around me. I managed to pop up on my feet, hoping that it looked rehearsed, and scrambled back up on the trail to continue. I had no doubt my stunt was noisy (maybe a death cry had been yelped???) and the gals had probably turned and were watching the powder-coated creature head down the trail.
My right knee felt tore up, but I couldn't let them know I was hurt...that would take away from what I hoped looked like a planned stop, drop and roll routine. So, I ran onward, focusing on not to limp or stopping to inspect the damage.
Gimping back to the trail head, I finally peeked at my knee. Bloody hamburger.
Karma.
That's what I get for giggling so heartily at the mountain biker's snow dive. And I won't do it again...until next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment