Like a herd of goats in the night, the steady charging group moved through the hollows of Norris after the sun went down. Worthy of the bruiser award, I plow-pushed my way through several sketchy maneuvers. I was riding like a meth-geeked trucker, spaz'd out and sloppy. Today I should be icing my wounds, but here I sit typing nonsensical verbiage.
The most noteworthy crash happened in the last quarter mile on the way back to the parking lot. Taking the high line, I stalled out on a tech section, where I tried to push my front wheel over a 1' root. As I balanced there in suspended animation, grasping for some sort of footing, I began my freefall to the rocky banks of Clear Creek. I came to an abrupt halt, inches from the water. My knees took the brunt of the fall. I can only be thankful I didn't end up in the icy water.
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