Just one of those things, really...never saw it coming and it had nothing to do with skill or speed or poor line choice or handling mistakes or whatever. Act of God type of 'stuff' and WHAM!...all crumpled and dirty, wondering what happened.
"When pigs fly, you really can't blame them if they don't stay up there too long."
The real impact was divided between my left shoulder, neck/head, and hydration pack. Of course, my landing zone was the only section of rocks along this entire 6 mile trail, so I chose poorly. I figured this was broken collarbone zone, but it seemed not to be...had no feelings of that kind of damage during inventory. So FFW, who had his own OTB earlier, but was saved from larger damage by a bit of shrubbery, and I finished the ride a bit worse for the wear, but not in any real pain.
But things like this tend to dent us a bit.
"What does not kill me makes me sore, scarred, creaky, and arthritic."
Notice 'stronger' is not an option. They lied about that part. So now I am working my way back toward some sense of normalcy as I try and keep in shape with road rides and hill repeats...no dirt. grannygear is sad.
But grannygear is also smart enough to know that angels carried him over the portals of greater destruction because this could have been a lot worse, so I will take it as best I can and move on.
The limps, scars, twinges, impingements, rusty hinges, swellings, bumps, lists to port, pins, bolts, screws, sutures, staples, bursitis, arthritis, and the heartbreak of psoriasis...all these we collect with great effort, expense, and diligence as we fight against time and gravity...and lose on both accounts.
"Well, this will take a while to fix."