A Million Minutes in Africa

Went mountain biking yesterday on some trails near the airport. A friend said motocross riders use these trails sometimes. For maximum sunburn, we left the house at noon. It was hot, and the dirt on the trail was loose. Stupidly, I had not switched my ideal-for-commuting-in-DC slick tires for big ol’ knobbies, and I paid the price. Trying to descend a steep hill at an angle, I went down when the tires slid sideways on the crumbly red dirt.

Embarrassed, I got up to dust myself off and continue riding. However, the dusting revealed bloody palms and a seriously road-(trail-)rashed leg. Dan squirted water on the wounds to clean them out. Ouch.

Guess I should’ve worn gloves. Oops.

Fortunately, one of our riding companions had a giant bandaid for the bloodier palm.

We rode home safely, and I cleaned the scrapes. Visited the Health Unit today to have someone look at them. The guy said, “Did you fall down go boom?” I guess the usual scrape victims he sees are typically far younger than I.

Everything’s fine except my pride. To do: get knobby tires and gloves, learn to ride bike properly.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 6th, 2006 at 5:56 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.