The plan was to ride from the Golden Gate Bridge to North Marin, on dirt, and return via the Larkspur Ferry. Our adventure began at Katie’s house in the Mission, on Saturday night. I have next to no memory of any of this, because 12 hrs later, I’ll be on my way to the ER with a dented helmet, amnesia, and a concussion.
What a great lesson: always wear a helmet kiddies, and ride with awesome friends, or at least tell them where you’re going.
The following pictures are strangely familiar and deliciously confusing. Ride with me as I ask the question,
What the hell happened?
Sunday Night.
Questions like, “Why does Adam have a chair on his head?” may never be answered.
- Just a lil’ motivation to get the guys out of bed at 6am. I remember making this stack of almond butter and banana sandwiches and watching it slowly. slowly. slowly. topple over. Who knew sandwiches had such a high R value? Or is that a Boltzman Constant? Wait. What?
- Post-note: I was thinking Reynold’s number. As if we could assume the sandwich stack is a viscous fluid. Pish.
Saturday Morning.
We rode out near dawn the next morning. The sharrows on the Wiggle lead us from the Mission to the Presidio.
Do not mistake Aaron’s mild demeanor. In just a few hours time, this fella will walk me off a mountain, hitch a pickup truck, drop me in the ER for a CAT scan, and find me a ride home. Did he even break a sweat?
Jesse has been by my side in hunger, humor, and heartbreak. By the end of this day, he’ll add “head trauma” to that list.
Interlude
Now, before the adventure begins, a brief interlude. Because not only are my friends handsome, they ride the darnedest bikes. Peter and Jon, I don’t mean to imply you’re not handsome or don’t have awesome bikes because your pictures aren’t here. I’m just missing pictures. Just like I’m missing memories.
Adam burned the competition in an alleycat and won this full carbon Ritte Crossberg. Way sexy.
Jesse’s Rohloffed Sycip cross bike commuter. Spanky.
Vajda’s Hooligan! You know what they say about guys with small bikes. Big Hugs.
My ex-boyfriend’s titanium Lightspeed, not my ex riding it. This would become extremely confusing later-on when I see his bike strapped with mine on my ride back from the hospital. Here’s the even trippier thing. Amory concussed himself on that bike and I walked him off a mountain almost exactly a year ago. As Keanu Reeves would say: WHOA.
The Adventure Begins.
Off to the headlands. Look at those grins!
Vajda rocketing down dirt on little itty bitty wheels.
Jon’s massacring the dirt but Adam’s right on his tail.
And then what?
At this point there’s a memory and photo gap. The story is, we hit the Miwok Trail and drop onto the bit of singletrack that leads to the Miwok Stables. The guys tell me I was out front and we had crossed a little wooden bridge near the beginning of the trail when I bit it.
The guys walk me off the mountain. At Miwok Stables, they hitched me a ride to Marin General, where I was given a CT scan.
Apparently, Dr. Scott Duffy introduced himself at the ER and I asked,
“Are you a doctor on TV?”
When he came back to get me a CT scan, I looked up with adoring eyes.
“You’re Scott Duffy, the TV DOCTOR!”
I was discharged and received my paperwork. I read it over and saw his signature.
I was besides myself. “It REALLY IS Scott Duffy!”
I don’t remember anything from the hospital, but it appears Dr. Scott Duffy has got me fixed up good. Picture by Aaron.
CT Scan of my BRAAIIIIN! Picture by Scott Duffy (or probably a technician).
Aaron and Jesse have managed to download my brain to a CD. These guys are incredible. What else are they capable of?
Outside of Marin General. We’re waiting for a ride from Aaron’s housemate. I don’t remember any of this, but I’m pleased to see the epic grins on all of our faces. Picture by Aaron.
Epilogue
This little carrot cupcake from Linda symbolizes all the love I got from friends Sunday, Monday and Tuesday after hitting my head. As Brooke would say: <3.
I woke up Sunday afternoon, swaddled in blankets on the floor of my roommate’s room. Someone has the great idea of putting a computer in my hands, and I blog, “I met Scott Duffy the TV Doctor and he SIGNED MY ASS!”
Sunday night, Adam, Katie, Jesse, Jon and Eli threw a dinner party at my house, during which I ranted and raved, flirted and danced and remembered almost none of it. Jesse slept over and made sure I was getting better and not worse. Sharon and Peter visited me Monday morning (I was still raving a bit) and we ate take out dim sum in the sun. Brooke gave me a hug and Bridget girl-talked me on the porch swing. Aaron sends me pictures of me in the ER.
I woke up Tuesday morning to amazing gifts. A journal full of enthusiastic scribbling (BRAIIIINS!!!!), and a pair of Opinel carbon steel pocket knives fresh from the mail.
Brain damage girl kept those new blades firmly folded and away from my catastrophe prone self.
Tuesday night, Jenn fed me cookie dough and Lena fed me salad. Jon tempted me with a new round of 100 mile bike rides. Life is good.
And then Wednesday morning, I get a package from Santa Claus de la Bicicleta.
Yes, that’s a full set of maps for the Great Divide Bicycle Route. YES! YES! YES!
HAHAHAHA! Who noticed that I mistakenly wrote “Sunday Night” for Saturday night, and “Saturday morning” for Sunday morning?
The ol’ brain isn’t what she used to be. I’m just gonna leave that one.
Posted by flamingbike | May 31, 2012, 8:55 am