I am a single track failure

Jim and I took advantage of the holiday weekend and headed to Stonewall Jackson Resort, bikes in tow, ready to tackle all surrounding trails! 

Beautiful, mountainous scenery, abundant wildlife, and hopefully no rattlesnakes. "They don't have rattlesnakes here, right?  Surely not, right?!" I pressed for the answer I so desperately wanted. "Nah...not around here." Jim, giving me a load of hooey, because he knew that's what I wanted to hear.

We rode like mad people because today was the only day we really had to explore the trails.  So here's the low down:  this place only has single lane trails.  Some are not well kept.  There are hairpin turns,  Lots of roots sticking out of the ground, and most of it just goes up, up, and more up. 

Granted, there's plenty of road to travel, people know to watch out for bikers.  All the bikers I saw stuck to these roads, and we rode all of them as well.  I never saw a single biker on the single track trails.

Bike trail #1:  it goes up.  Tree roots right at the beginning, narrow trails, sharp turns.  I fell off the right side of my bike only a few yards into it.  Jim, (running back to help) "OK, that bike's for sale."  "Just give me a CHANCE!!" I cried, tears of frustration already at the surface. He was immediately sorry and told me he just didn't want me to get hurt (but he knew full well it would happen a lot more).  I stomped on, pushing up and down everything, it was too steep and narrow and I was frustrated.  I'd get back on and ride a few yards, only to have to dismount and push some more.  Jim was out of sight, I came to the top of the hill, he's standing there holding his bike looking at me.  "The trail was overgrown right here, I didn't see a huge hole in the ground and I flipped over the bike."  This was NOT looking good for us.  The trail up ahead looked overgrown as well, and we decided to turn back. 

Trail #2:  It's really more of a place for maintainance vehicles and ATV's, but it was more clear and roomy.  "That's what I'm talkin' about!" I said.  We stopped after a couple minutes for Jim to adjust his seat, and me to get a drink.  As soon as Jim started off again, he made sort of a hiccuping sound and looked back at me, worried.  "What?"  I said.  His look was indistiguishable.  "WHAT?!?" I yelled this time.  "Uh.  I just ran over a baby rattlesnake."  He confessed.  "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?" I almost fainted right there.  "I can't do this again..." Then he appeased me by telling me he was probably wrong (just so I'd stay calm till we came out of the woods).  I knew what he was doing.  But I really wanted to buy into his crap so I just decided to let it go...for now. 

When we got out of there he admitted it really was a baby rattler and he didn't know how I didn't hear it.  All day long every time a leaf would get stuck in my spokes and rattle my heart would leap. I had about five mini-coronaries just in one day.  I was gun shy.  It wasn't a good combo, my skittish-ness and the single lane trails.  We broke for lunch and a bit of a respite, just enjoying the scenery.

We started again in the late afternoon, riding the main road to another trail we'd scouted the day before.  I thought Jim was gonna have a cardiac arrest by the time we got up the road to the actual trail.  I, on the other hand, was good to go, having done the roller coaster hills and Vomit and Diahrrea Hill twice last week. 

Trail #3: Right off the bat this single lane trail went UP (big surprise).  The bank dopped off to our left, which was a concern to me.  After Jim got his heart rate back from the hyperventilating, he started.  I tried to start up.  You know by now my track record for mounting the bike on a hill.  I tipped over once, caught myself, backed up a bit, and started again.  This narrow trail was kicking my butt and I wasn't even ON it yet!!!  I got back on (Jim now out of sight), and the thing I never wanted to happen (besides the rattler) did happen.  I lost my balance and smacked myself right down on my bar.  Now I know the joke with men when something like that happens, they can never have any more kids, it can get pretty crude, I won't go there.  I don't know if that rule applies to women or not, but if it did, and if it was humanly possible for me to still have kids, that possibility would've been taken away at that very second in time. 

I regained my composure and decided that I would probably live, and somehow got up that hill.  Jim kept having to stop and wait on me.  Hairpin turn (dismount and walk) get back on, ride some more, another switchback.  This time the trail was more narrow, and not level at all.  My legs were getting weak.  I tried two times to get back on, and jumped off both times.  That third time, I started, but there was no momentum, and I went down hard, this time on my left side. 

I now had two skinned up arms, cuts and bruises on both legs from top to bottom, and one very sore bottom.  Jim scrambled back down, exclaiming over the narrow tree stump sticking up out of the ground, right near my head. (He didn't even know about my mishap at the beginning of the trail yet.) To make a long story short, I pushed it up the hill, tried riding some more, kept tipping over, and we finally decided to turn back.  Towards the end, we met a family hiking up.  I hopped back on and pretended to be brave on this stinking, narrow trail that kicked my butt.  For some reason, I do better when people are watching me, like I have to prove that I'm not a total moron. 

I am totally exhausted tonight.  Jim is mentally spent from worrying about me.  At dinner, we got the buffet and revenously ate everything in sight!!!  Jim did an impression of me with a piece of bread.  He made a low humming sound, crept the bread along the plate, then suddenly flopped it over on it's side. We cracked up.  "It's like you couldn't get any momentum at all. You'd get on the bike go a foot, and fall over. If you just could have had your  momentum, you could've gotten it.  Maybe you overtrained this week with all those hills you climbed."

I hate to admit it but I think he's right.  I think tomorrow, I'll take the day off from riding, even if it kills me.  Because if I don't, it probably will!