Crashed

Mountain biking, spirituality, Bible verses and gratitude.

I have gratitude for the man who raises his devils as sails, birthing ships of creative energy.

It’s hard to know what to do in times of material abundance. So I hike thirteen miles, sleep in a cabin, and then go mountain biking tired, to ruin a perfectly good hip. One mistake on the mountain and you’re fifty years older.

One of my rules is never ride tired. I was tired and forgot my rules.

I go off the jump and realize the crash is inevitable. I throw the bike and do what I can to not hit my head. My left leg breaks the fall.

“Holy shit are you ok?” an onlooker says. 

I don’t respond. I crawl off the trail.

“Are you good? Do you need someone?”

“That fucking sucked," I choke out. 

“What?”

“That fucking sucked.” 

I really need a female in my life so I stop doing this shit.

“You saved it,” the man says.

“It doesn’t feel like I saved it.” It feels like I dangled from a crane by my left leg for nine hours.

I’m nauseous. I lay on my back in the dirt. I feel like I’m going to puke my lunch. A friend see…