The returning runner…
Act 37 – Runners vs and Bikes
It was a perfect day. Well, except for my running time getting squished. The afternoon had been filled with a surprise fishing outing with my son and his three little kids. And, even better my daughter and son-in-law were able to join at Marilyn’s Pond located in Galena Park up in the pines above Reno. My wife and I had a pretty good system down and the grandkids were managing to pull in pretty Rainbow Trout in the 8”-13” range with surprising regularity. Even almost first-time fisherman son-in-law Ty got one on the first cast and then several after that. Family times like that are just too valuable! But now dusk was coming. I hurried to Galena Creek trailhead a few miles away to squeeze in what I could…
The temperature was perfect. A cooling breeze had chased away the grueling heat of the past few days. I started up the trail feeling chipper. A hundred yards up an admiring couple were taking graduation pics of their daughter. The glow of the setting sun set a beautiful backdrop. But I had to push – this was much too short of time for my run. The planned distance had to be converted into a hard, short, push. I bounded across the wooden footbridge just a half mile up. Digging into a steeper uphill portion, I pushed it as I approached a sharp turn. SCREECHAWK!!! I heard it first. The sound of a mountain biker locking ‘em up entering the same turn coming down. Dense willows blocked the view for a moment then a blur of blue. I was already yelling “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!!!” but to no avail. I was hugging the right (inside) part of the curve but the mountain biker burst into view just yards ahead of me along the same line. Nowhere to go in the millisecond before impact. Not sure how I missed the front tire but somehow came up and over. Our heads hit. Well, my head hit his helmet and then we were both down. The visor on his helmet had broken off from the impact with my head and lay in front of me.
It seemed like I should have been hurt. After all my head had broken his helmet… I seemed ok. My new friend was frantically both apologizing and asking if I was ok. Still felt ok but just didn’t seem likely. Maybe I was in shock. I asked him if I was bleeding – certain that blood must be running down somewhere. He decided to do a bit of a concussion check on me… Yes, I could identify which eye was his left. I could count down from 10 backwards. My pupils were equal, and my balance was alright. I actually was ok and I really needed to get going to squeeze my run in. David apologized and promised to go slower as we waved goodbye.
It was tempting to be angry, but let’s face it – it’s fun to go fast! On a good day I’ve been guilty of letting it go coming downhill and while not quite as fast as a mountain biker, have certainly surprised uphill-heading hikers on a few occasions. Bikers are just out trying to get some exercise and have fun like we are. Diplomacy works a lot better when you can create some camaraderie so don’t be too harsh with our biker “cousins”. Encourage them when you pass them going uphill (that is the most fun, right??) and be gentle with admonishment when one is going a little too “hot” on the downhill unless they are being truly reckless. A gentle reminder, “hey, got some hikers behind coming up, watch the speed” might do the trick!
Oh – and I somehow managed to use the adrenaline generated by the crash to pump me up for the rest of the run!!
Photo: Fishing fun with 2-year old grandson Levi on 6/2/25 just a couple hours before my Galena Creek trail crash.