Riding on the Flume Trail is not for a faint of heart. With almost three decades behind the bars of a mountain bike, I still got chills here and there. The narrow two way traffic trail made for many close encounters one of which put the final straw on my back...

Up ahead a novice rider on the heavy side rolled toward me on what looked like a rental mountain bike. As we got close he tried to give the right of way by going slighly up the side of the trail and away from the cliff side I was riding. Unfortunately he couldn't control the bike and as we crossed paths he fell right on top of me taking me and my bike down the cliff. We only tumbled a few feet from the trail as a big boulder caught my leg and stopped the awkward fall. Both shaken and a bit scratched up (at least I was) we slowly climbed up with Joel's help. After dusting off and exchanging words on what the hell just happened the rider quickly blamed me for the encounter and rode away as quickly as he could. Joel, who was riding behind me and witnessed the entire thing couldn't believe that the rider blamed me for causing him to fall on top of me. It made no sense.

I brushed off a mix of dirt and pine needles from my legs and looked over the bike. Just a few minor scratches on the leg and elbow, the bike was fine. We had to keep moving. But I was now fully convinced to call it a day at the next meetup point only a few miles up ahead.