A Refreshing Dip
Alright, it was more of a “fall” than a “dip.” And it wasn’t so much refreshing either. Honestly that headline is completely wrong. Let’s start over.


Nina and I Fell in a Creekor Zen and the Art of Picking up a Bike
We’re both fine, nobody panic. Here’s the whole story:

As part of this journey, Nina and I have been on some pretty nasty back roads. Some of these back roads have included streams. Some of you might remember my mentioning the first of these stream crossings a few days ago. Since then Nina and I have crossed a few streams, all without much ado. The basic plan is: 1) Stop just before the stream to decide on the best route -- the shallowest, least rocky path. 2) Try to pick a straight line so that minimal steering is needed. 3) Get to a nice easy constant speed of 5-10 mph. 4) Close your eyes and go. (Just kidding about the last one.)

So, I’m in Silver City, NM, and the woman at the KOA directs me to this bird-specific nature preserve where I can likely find Common Black-Hawk. On the way there, I make another stop at a marshy area the KOA also suggested. I picked up the Ladder-backed Woodpecker, and I was feeling pretty good about prospects for the day.

I get to the dirt road that leads to the preserve and find yet another stream crossing. This one is different from the others I’ve forded in that it is not just a rocky stream bed that happens to intersect the road. Instead, there is a man-made concrete culvert going across the road to allow the water to cross without washing away the dirt road.

We stopped about 20 feet away. I noticed that the depth and speed of the water looked pretty constant across both lanes of the road, so I figured it would be best to just stick to the middle. I pop Nina one down, and head for the center at a nice easy 5 mph. As soon as I’m in the water I feel Nina sliding and notice that the cement we are on is covered with slimy algae. As Nina looses her footing I tried to help with one of my own. No help. When my kick hit the slimy cement I knew immediately I was not going to be able to support my own weight, let alone mine, Nina’s and 100 lbs. of gear.

What happened next happened in slow motion -- so read slowly.

I realize within moments that Nina and I are going down and I can’t stop it. Nina’s back tire, freed from the friction of the road surface, is now spinning wildly on the slime. As her body leans back towards me, she jack-knifes out to the right side. I’m still holding on to her, but gravity has already won this battle, so down we go.

Nina ends up on her side. I end up sitting beside her with my left leg still under her. Nina is a gentle thing, and is careful not to crush me. I slide my leg out and stand up to find that we both seem to be in good shape. I’m wet from the ass down, but otherwise unharmed. Nina is balancing on her left handlebar, foot peg, saddlebag and the frame just above her back tire. All the gear is still firmly in place -- and perfectly dry.

Before assessing Nina’s injuries, I immediate try to pick her up. Cars coming from one direction will not be able to see her. I try to lift her up and I can’t. When I try to lift, she slides away from me on the slime as I slide back towards the middle of the creek. I quickly unload the gear so I can try again without the extra 100 lbs. (Nina’s already packing quite the load at 628 lbs.)

Now I’m able to lift her enough so that just her wheels are on the slime. I slide her towards the edge of the creek until her tires catch on the solid ground. This gives me the leverage I need to prop her back up. (That's "rubber side down" for those of you keeping track at home.)

The rest of the story is less important. To sum up, Nina is fine -- just a slightly bent left foot peg and a shifter, which should be fairly easy to replace. The hard bags I just bought seemed to hold up well, although the new paint job will need to be touched up. The bike itself is in great shape. Not a scratch on the paint or the chrome. (Truly an incredible machine -- drop it on the ground, pick it up, keep on riding.)

So I’m spending another night in Silver City. It’s Sunday, so tomorrow I’ll take it to a nearby shop and make sure we’re cleared for travel.

I never made it to the wildlife preserve. The ironic thing is, I saw a Common Black-Hawk, the bird I was crossing the stream for, on my way into the campground tonight.

And now, your moment of Zen
Immediately after the crisis was over, I was oddly calm. Yes, I couldn’t believe how careless I was in taking the stream for granted. But I was surprised that I wasn’t more upset.

I was thinking of my brother Ojo’s theory of “Use it AND Lose it”. Simply, something only remains perfect if you don’t use it. Something you want to use and gain enjoyment from is going to eventually break.

I was also thinking of a show called “The Long Way ‘Round.” Ewan McGregor and a buddy rode bikes around the world. They were on a lot of crappy dirt roads. They fell a lot. They just picked up the bikes and kept riding, kept experiencing.

I thought to myself This is part of the adventure. This is part of the process. This is part of my life. This is going to make me the man I’m going to become. Just like everything that has happened to me before has made me the man I am now: growing up, losing a brother, birding, being married, losing a friend, moving to Columbia, getting divorced, buying a house on my own, falling in love again.

Just pick up the bike and keep riding.