trail 12

let the record reflect that on Friday, August 3rd 2007 at 11:06am the Suki did utter:

NEVER. EVER. EVER. ever. LET ME RIDE WHILE I'M PMS'ING, AGAIN. ever.

If I cry on the way to the trail...not gonna be a good ride.
If the first thing I say when I get there is: I don't wanna...not gonna be a good ride.
If I have no strength and can't figure out why...not gonna be a good ride.
If I, quite literally, SNAP at my fellow riders (one of whom I've only just met) "Serious, guys. Don't try to be noble, here. JUST FUCKING LEAVE ME!!!"...not gonna be a good ride.

So I "did" trail 12. Holy technical kicking my ass all over the mountain scariest 20 minutes of my life so far.

I thought I had taken an over the handlebars fall before. NOPE. I did this time, though. I was so frazzled and frayed (and just straight up chicken shit) that I got my glove caught on my front brake (genius, I know), yanked it HARD to the left in panic trying to free it, saw the tree. saw the tree. saw the tree...

flew over the handlebars (still attached via the glove, mind you) and hit the tree with the leg.

you'd think at this point this fall is pretty much over.

nuh uh, suckas.

scraping the tree, as I did, apparently didn't do much to check my momentum...and I continued to sail through the air.

I finally (after what seemed like three or four years of falling) said to myself "you should just tuck and roll".

I tucked.

the roll part didn't really happen, however. it was a weeeeeee bit rocky...

so I kinda bounced.

I was heard from the bottom to have said "I'm getting my fucking ass kicked". I heard chuckles in return.

sadists. all of them.

finally the sheer adrenaline rush of being frightened for my life overcame the hormonal storm that was funking me up and I started to ride. I was breathing like a porn star and couldn't feel my legs...but I was pushing through it and it started to feel good.

then...my derailleur decided to add to the excitement and wouldn't let me shift...at all.

I'm not gonna lie here, folks. I kicked my bike.

I ended up convincing everyone but Oqui to abandon me (sorry guys. I hope you had a good loop) and just kinda lumbered through the trail back to the lot.

then it happened. back at the lot. sunset approaching. time to pack up...

I found my mojo.

NUTZ! it was too late to head up another trail and I had major adrenaline rush to burn off.

DOUBLE NUTZ!

we opted, instead for some sammiches. good thing, too. I crashed so hard I could barely lift my arms.

now I have a blood lust for that trail. I'm going to not only pedal to the top without crying...

I'm going to blaze DOWN that bitch without being a pansy, too.



I might even head for the tower next time, too.