Sep 2, 2011

My right side slouch.

Voices in your head should be listened to. Last Sunday I was packed and ready with two dogs to go home. In the space of time equal to a convience store stop, Gertie ate more beef jerky than I've eaten in two years.
I feared the worst on the drive home. I decided to kill some time and let her roam around my friends yard in case she needed to discharge. From whatever end. The problem with stopping at my friend Pete's before they go on a ride in my favorite forest to ride, is that I'll eventually give in to the argument.."Why would you drive home to ride, when you can ride here and then drive home.?" I can't resist peer pressure.
So off to the forest we went, dogs in tow. Gertie had made a few unsuccessful attempts at ridding herself of the jerky. Please god I was hoping the cork wouldn't pop on the way to the trails. We met up at the gut-pile parkinglot with a few other like minded souls and proceeded to role out after the necessary start rituals.
Literally 3 minutes into the ride I have gone over my bars trying to hop an rather high log that everyone else had stopped in front of. Committed I landed on my right shoulder with my hands still on the bar. I heard a funny noise and tasted a familiar flavor. It wasn't a simple dustoff. That was it for me. I announced I was going home. Sorry to leave in a relative huff guys, but I was pissed. I went to see Dr. Evil who told me it was a partial seperation and all I could do was stabilize it and let it heal.

Last year I missed the last Teaberry race while in the series lead and it may happen again this year. I pulled out of the Shenandoah 100 because it's just too close and I rode it injured last year. No need to repeat. I have nothing to gain. Except a weekend at home.....