Bloodied and bruised: The perils of riding rigid

Above, dear reader, is an artfully cropped and retouched photo of my ass. I post it here not in the interest of being salacious (a word that reminds me of the Bill Clinton-Ken Starr era) or titillating but to illustrate the consequences riding past the limits of one's ability on a new mountain bike. I managed to go over the handlebars and hit a large tree on Sunday afternoon (my rear end was above my head when this happened)... and this wasn't even the hardest wipeout I took on this ride. It's quite lucky that I'm not in the hospital.

The new bike with its lack of suspension, limited gearing choices, and larger wheels will take some getting used to for sure. The Waterbury/Stowe area is actually something of a mountain biking mecca with several trail networks to explore but I must confess that I was happy to finally emerge from the woods, bleeding and sore, on Sunday: I'd had more than enough of a beating for one day. But I will try again on more forgiving trails in the future.

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