Like One Big Family

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Today was one of those annoying days where I was too busy with random grown-up stuff and all I wanted to do was ride my bike. Tires to dirt, on my favorite trail. I finished up most of the errands early, ignored the rest, grabbed my shiny new bike and got to the trail with 2 hours of daylight to spare. I was so happy to be on the mountain on a day when I thought for sure it wasn’t going to happen. I was having a blast on the climb, nailing all the lines and feeling good. I hung out for a few minutes at the top and took in the view from high above the city. I made some remark to myself about the poor bastards sitting down there in traffic and dropped in to what is probably my most favorite section of trail. Then this happened:


As I stood to power up a little rise, my fork just disappeared from underneath me and I went to the ground. My chest went straight into the handlebars (which were now on the ground) and luckily my instinct told me to turn my head to the side and take it on the helmet and not the teeth. Stunned, I got to my feet and instantly started making that terrifying sound one makes when the wind is knocked out of them. As soon as my breathing got back to normal I sat myself down on a rock to assess the situation. My fingers and toes all worked and I had all my teeth, so I have that going for me. I sat there for quite a while. Getting more and more angry that I now had to walk 4 miles back to the trailhead.

Before I started my hike, I snapped the above picture and put it on the old Instagram. What happened over the next hour moved me to no end. My phone started blowing up with messages from friends asking if I was alright. From Cupcake up in WI to Big Jonny in Flagstaff, to friends in Seattle and dozens of people here in Arizona. It was pretty unbelievable. There were riding partners sitting in their offices at work texting me to see if they should ride up the mountain and help me. There were even friends in Tucson making fun of me because they know how much I hate hiking and could only tease me once they knew I was alright. The whole miserable slog down the mountain was interrupted with messages from the cycling community and it was pretty damn cool.

I walk away from this day with some new carbon fiber wind chimes, a bruise on my sternum shaped like a Garmin Edge, and a tremendous amount of gratitude to this wonderful cycling community that I am a part of.

I was OK this time, but it sure is nice to know that if I wasn’t, there are dozens of people that have my back. We look after our own like family. Be safe out there.

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keep it dirty…


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About dirty biker

I am a fan of singletrack, singlespeeds, single women and single malt. Currently in Carbondale, CO Follow on Instagram @dirty_biker

26 Replies to “Like One Big Family”

  1. Well, there’s your problem… The forkey bits aren’t attached to the framey bits. (See the insight 15yrs in the trenches gets me…)

    Glad you’re o.k.

  2. Damn, those are generally the worst fall. I had 2 fork breaking close to the crown. Now I’m totally hysteric about fork durability…

  3. These things bring you to reality as to how fragile you are; at the same moment you are doing something that nobody else is able to do. The same moment that you are seen as the best, the fastest and somebody that cannot be touched, you are enormously fragile.

  4. Damn! Glad you’re okay!

    I knew there was a reason I didn’t trust those glued together plastic forks.

    I think we need a review of it now. As opposed to the industry standard, “it took 3 lbs off my bike, steers like a laser beam, is so comfortable and supple, and is obviously built to last”……..

    You know, DC stylee!

  5. Owie. I had one of them plastic jobbers try to turn me into dog food on the road a while back. I managed to come to a stop without using my face/tits as a coaster brake and went to a steel fork for the skinny bike (everything else already had one). Glad to hear you lived to tell the tale, and that while you may have been solo, you were not alone.

  6. Wow… that was touching, dearest Dirtster. Brought a tear to my eye.

    All that lurrrrrrve was the silver lining on your ugly, heart hurting fall. I sure hope your bruises heal quickly and you’re back to feeling 100% before too long.

    It’s true, too… cyclists do stick together like glue – we are very much like one big, happy, dysfunctional family.

    Have a wonderful weekend, Dirty… and have a beer for me. xo xo

  7. I ride rigid steel, singlespeed or fixed and still manage to eat it bad. Glad you’re okay.

  8. A) For starters we need to go to West Virginia and kick that guy Jesse’s ass who tested that fork out and gave it such a typical lame review.
    B) Pace should step up and warranty that fork ASAP, and throw in a complimentary trip to the local rub & tug.
    3) Whichever companies out there are checking DC out they should stop for a second. Look around them at all the vultures trying to get some free shit. Then take notice that someone like Dirty is logging in more travel and miles and time on his bike annually than some pros. And all on his own dime. Hook a brotha up!!!!!! If you stand by your product, let someone who’s riding anywhere and everywhere put it to work.
    R) That is all, good day sir.

  9. Dirty Dood – glad you walked away from that one relatively unscathed – could have been so, so much worse. So have you written off carbon forks?

  10. just wait until this weekend then it be the biggest reunion of all west coast MTBers…..Jager Bombers & shots of Fireball for all!

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