As I rode over a rise in the trail, I recognized the spot from some recent pics on-line. This rutted section, steep and loose, was called out as a dastardly section to prove ones mettle against. Hah. As I scooted down it on my hardtail SS with V brakes, I was feeling pretty superior. "So THAT is the killer spot?" Phhhtt.
Not 100 yards later I was calling some friends who were riding nearby to help me get my bike and body together and get out to the road. Bad crash. Worst I have had in over 20 years of riding. It happened pretty fast. Down the trail from the spot I recognized, I was threading the needle down a steep and wide section, dancing between the rain ruts hidden in the new grass until I felt like I had a clear run out to the bottom. I let off the brakes, picked up speed really quickly, alarmingly so...OK, focus, relax, look ahead, then BANG..BANG. A double hit to both rims. Must have been hidden in the grass. Whatever it was de-beaded the front tire, blew the tube in half and nearly unseated the rear tire too. It unseated me as well.
Total superman into the ground. What a mess.
So today I am all wrapped up like the mummy. Missing skin. Typical road rash. My left hand/wrist took a huge impact. No broken things yet, but I am waiting on a second opinion from the sawbones. A nice brace safely encapsulates my barely functioning hand. This may take a while.
So, moral: You ain't that special after all, pal. Pride sucks, as well do snakes hidden in the grass.