crash

When you descend on a bicycle, you see speeds upwards of 40 miles per hour. If you hit a bit of gravel in a corner, unpleasant things happen. Like the wheels wash out from under you and come into contact with the ground.

On the way down from Mount Wilson, we were going 30 plus miles per hour. Pete was ahead of me. He hit some gravel, went down hard, and I damn near ran him over.

He had some handsome road rash, his hands were chewed up, and his arm was bruised. We rinsed him off with our water bottles. He got back up on his bike and we headed down again.

Pete's one tough cowboy. He didn't bitch any. Back at his house, we cleaned him up, covered his open sores with gauze, and held it in place with 3M masking tape.