The husband and I went to bed last night thinking our plans to head to far south Austin to ride the veloway were dashed thanks to a 60% chance of showers. I got up bright and early--with an emphasis on bright. The clouds that had brought us a very nice, drenching rain late Saturday afternoon and into the early evening had largely moved on, and what gray remained was moving on as well.
Woohoo! Let's get those bikes loaded and hit the road!
Within Spitting Distance of Mopac, But a World Away
I didn't realize it when I'd looked at the map of the veloway, but it's located right across the street from the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, which boded well for some nice scenery even though the 3.1 miles (that's 5K, Gentle Reader) of the veloway are tucked behind a residential development--thankfully not a sprawling one. Fortunately too for residents and riders alike, the planners have maintained a lot of the natural vegetation to maintain the privacy of both groups.
Since South Austin's enjoyed a bit more rain than we Northerners have, the veloway course was dotted with a healthy variety of wildflowers, along with some wildlife. I spotted a number of squirrels, although not once during the three times I rode the course did I spy any snakes at the stretch of road marked with the "Snake Crossing" sign. Bummer.
Oh, and I also saw my very first real roadrunner. Not an animated one. There's a difference, Gentle Reader, in case you didn't realize:
Here's a roadrunner you've probably seen on your TV, Gentle Reader.
The Hazards of Walkersor
I Get to Put Years of Training and Learning to UseNot long after we set off from the parking lot, I left the boys to their own devices because I was
really anxious to experience the course at my speed, not at the puttering, meandering, often knee-killing pace I have to keep in order to ride with the boy. From the moment I set off, I knew I'd simply start a second round and catch up with them, and I have to admit that I was rather surprised how far into their own first lap they'd gotten when I did catch up to them.
And they probably would have gotten farther if it hadn't been for a very odd feature of the veloway:
This steep hill (Bike Noob points out that the camera typically
flattens the incline) is sort of a surprise because you approach it right out of a fairly sharp turn. The hill's been dubbed Jacob's Rail--by whom I don't know yet--and in 1998 was awarded a "Best of" prize by the editors of
The Chron, specifically calling it the "
Best Place To Impersonate Sisyphus."
While I didn't feel particularly despotish when I encountered Jacob's Rail the first time, I was surprised by it but luckily had enough speed to almost get to the top--and would have if my damn right foot hadn't slipped off my pedal. Damn my lack of upstroke! But I'm a fast learner, and as I was approaching on my second go-round, I knew to build up speed long before the hill.
The course is arranged to that the top of Jacob's Rail is a half-dozen yards or so across from the winding approach to it (traffic flows in one direction on the veloway, for obvious safety reasons). As I was starting to gather speed for my second approach, I heard a scream, a female scream, but I honestly didn't think much of it. The noise struck me more as one of surprise, not terror.
Heh, boy was I wrong!
I got the hill and started my ascent when I noticed that hey! that's the boy walking up on the right side. I'm hoofin' it up Jacob's Rail, noting that two men are assisting a hobbling woman up the hill on the left side, even as I holler over my shoulder, "Where's Daddy?"
"He's helping!" the boy hollers back.
Sure enough, one of the men assisting the woman is the husband. That I didn't recognize him at first I'm going to chalk up to my concentration on getting up the hill and my mild surprise at finding the boy walking up the hill. (It's a pretty stiff incline, and that's a lot to ask a newbie 6-year-old rider to climb.) Soon, though, I get my arse over to the right, where the husband and the other man took the injured woman to rest against a railing, to see if I could help at all since I'd packed a quick first-aid kit in an underseat bag on my bike. Just call me Batman--I'm prepared with my utility belt--er, bag.
The woman was complaining about a cramp in her calf as I was whipping out the container of Bath & Body Works sweet pea-scented antibacterial wipes and tube of triple-strength antibiotic ointment with topical analgesic to address her road rash-afflicted elbow. Once we got her elbow cleaned up and as the husband and the other man was prepping one of the gauze pads I had in the kit with some ointment and some of the medical tape I also carried, I told the fallen biker that I was a yoga instructor and had some training in muscular release then asked if she'd like me to try to release the cramp. I thought that's why she'd crashed: a sudden charley horse while ascending Jacob's Rail had derailed her climb. While trying to pinpoint the focus of her pain, I got a few more details about what had happened. And I cringed.
The woman hadn't suffered a sudden cramp. No, she'd come around the turn to start her ascent only to find a certain 6-year-old off in his bike and in her path. In her efforts to avoid the boy, her bike tires lost their traction and sent her tumbling. Yep, you guess it, Gentle Reader: That scream I'd heard was her. In her fall, she'd badly twisted her right knee.
As I was working on her calf, I noticed that her right knee was starting to swell--not a great sign. Since we were still a ways out from the entrance/exit, the man who'd teamed with the husband to get the injured rider up the hill along with his wife were trying to figure out how to help the woman back to her car. She thought she could ride while perhaps the other man pushed her (and his wife carted their bikes), so I whipped off one of my jumper's knee bands and put it around the injured woman's bum knee because, what a coinkidink!, her patellar tendon seemed to be the focus of her pain.
I wound up following Cat (she eventually introduced herself) and the other woman back to the entrance, and we broke the rule (gasp!) and went the wrong way along the course since that was the quickest way to the entrance/exit. By the time the four of us got there, my boys had finished the course in the proper direction and were waiting for us. All of us, save the boy, helped Cat to her Land Rover. I got her bike mounted then grabbed my medical tape to give her
very swollen knee some external fixation. After all, Gentle Reader,
R.I.C.E. is your best first-aid bet for minor sprains and strains!
Before I helped her into her vehicle (her leather seats got a little bloody since the bandage had fallen off her elbow), Cat asked what I thought might be wrong. I was explaining to her some of the various muscular, ligament and tendon connections made at the knee joint, and the man who'd accompanied us said, "The next time I go for a ride, I'm bringing her along!"
Pshaw! Pshaw!
After Cat hit the road (and I regret not giving her my cell phone number--also backed in my Bat-first aid kit--to her so she could let me know she made it home all right) and after we all cleaned up a little, took a few deep breaths and whatnot, the boys and I headed out for a family loop. I also talked to them about what happened, and I learned that the boy had
just wiped out on Jacob's rail himself when Cat had come around the turn. He probably hadn't really had enough time to get himself out of the way, but I did take a few moments to tell him that he really,
really needs to make sure that whenever he crashes on a public course, he
must get as far to the right and out of other riders' way as soon as he can.
Will he remember? I doubt it.
So despite our little medical drama, I have to say I'm anxious to go back to the veloway. However, I'm not sure I'm going to do it again soon with the boy. The course has enough climbs that doing it at his pace is pretty tough on my knees, and I find I'm one of those people who has the need for speed.
Next time, though, I hope I don't have to play EMT.
