There's a trail we all know. You know I love this trail. There's a small jump over a stream not too far from the top of it and it's the same jump that until recently I'd never seen anyone crash on it. The jump is so perfect. The first time you hit it is always the best time you will ever hit it. You launch, fly through the air over shark infested water and then land, land so smooth it was like you never left the ground.
A few months ago JohnG really screwed it up, landed all higgledy-piggledy, nose heavy, tweaked his bars 90 degress and crashed hard, then Ben made sure not to make the same mistake as John and landed like he was trying to ride his back wheel like a unicycle, that back wheel shot forward and Ben slid to the ground in an elegant telemark skier inspired knee drag along the dirt. I think everyone pretty much crashed that day.
Fast forward to today, and I mean fast forward, John was on fire riding up Uconn this morning. It's been very windy and the trails are very sticky (covered in sticks) and we finally make it over to our favorite trail, dérailleurs intact. John pusses out and slows down before the jump, I turn around to see how he's gonna jump after me and see his nose plunge in the front side of the teeny tiny landing ramp. It took quite some skill to hit such a teeny bump, but John made it, luckily he had his face to help slow him down. His glasses cut a big divot out of his nose and he cracked open his eyebrow. 21 stitches later he's recovering slowly.To be fair though, he didn't cry and he did agree to ride out a fun way, rather than really pussing out on the fire road.