The name of the trail we were on is called "Sticks and Stones". Shall I
go on?
Okay OKAY!
The trail winds its way down the southeastern flank of Snake Mountain.
The upper section of the trail features woods that are open, and the
dappled sunlight plays upon the wildflowers as well
as.................."The Wall".
The Wall is a naked rock that is almost always wet. The approach is
straight on, but the drop is sudden. The trail itself is perhaps a
15-20% grade, but then you are quite suddenly faced with a better than a
50% grade drop. The top is smooth, and then there is about an 8-10 inch
drop, a few bumps, more smooth rock, and then the roll-out. The
successful rider will point and shoot with NO BRAKES AT ALL. Once you
are off the wet rock, hop in the back seat and clamp down on the
binders. Oh, bye the way, did I mention the sharp right hand turn at the
bottom?
Our intrepid hero seemed to have managed the upper part (with cerebral
matter appropriately turned off), but my sense is that the little mid
slimy rock drop in the middle may have caused his brain to suddenly kick
back in, flooding his senses with a fatal dose of self preservation
instincts. I think he may have tried to brake too soon. From what I saw,
the front of the bike went riders right, and the rider went left as he
hit the dirt transition. He was going too fast to run it out. He
essentially flopped down HARD on his left side. The bottom of this
little feature is strewn with shoe sized blocks of rocks lurking amongst
the Trillium and Trout Lilly's.
A bunch of us were down at the bottom, say, 20 yards past the turn at
the bottom of The Wall. As we looked back, we could see John airborne
facing us. And then he disappeared in the brush. There went up a
collective "Ooooh ****!", and then silence. We all stood there for a
moment until somebody woke up and said, "We'd better check on him". As
we ran up to him I was looking for likely litter stock. He called out
that he was all right. He got up by himself, and shook himself off. He
claimed his hand was a bit numb, but was okay.
The son-of-a-bitch scared the hell out of all of us. He went down HARD.
Perhaps some body armor next time John? ****, everybody else had pads on
but YOU! I love ya like a brother John, but I'm gonna have to disable
yer steed if ya show up without pads again.
go on?
Okay OKAY!
The trail winds its way down the southeastern flank of Snake Mountain.
The upper section of the trail features woods that are open, and the
dappled sunlight plays upon the wildflowers as well
as.................."The Wall".
The Wall is a naked rock that is almost always wet. The approach is
straight on, but the drop is sudden. The trail itself is perhaps a
15-20% grade, but then you are quite suddenly faced with a better than a
50% grade drop. The top is smooth, and then there is about an 8-10 inch
drop, a few bumps, more smooth rock, and then the roll-out. The
successful rider will point and shoot with NO BRAKES AT ALL. Once you
are off the wet rock, hop in the back seat and clamp down on the
binders. Oh, bye the way, did I mention the sharp right hand turn at the
bottom?
Our intrepid hero seemed to have managed the upper part (with cerebral
matter appropriately turned off), but my sense is that the little mid
slimy rock drop in the middle may have caused his brain to suddenly kick
back in, flooding his senses with a fatal dose of self preservation
instincts. I think he may have tried to brake too soon. From what I saw,
the front of the bike went riders right, and the rider went left as he
hit the dirt transition. He was going too fast to run it out. He
essentially flopped down HARD on his left side. The bottom of this
little feature is strewn with shoe sized blocks of rocks lurking amongst
the Trillium and Trout Lilly's.
A bunch of us were down at the bottom, say, 20 yards past the turn at
the bottom of The Wall. As we looked back, we could see John airborne
facing us. And then he disappeared in the brush. There went up a
collective "Ooooh ****!", and then silence. We all stood there for a
moment until somebody woke up and said, "We'd better check on him". As
we ran up to him I was looking for likely litter stock. He called out
that he was all right. He got up by himself, and shook himself off. He
claimed his hand was a bit numb, but was okay.
The son-of-a-bitch scared the hell out of all of us. He went down HARD.
Perhaps some body armor next time John? ****, everybody else had pads on
but YOU! I love ya like a brother John, but I'm gonna have to disable
yer steed if ya show up without pads again.
