Crack! No more riding for a while.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I forgot how old I am last Saturday and fell while out biking with some friends, breaking my collarbone. It was an absolutely asinine maneuver, which I had no possibility of pulling off. The only thing missing from the event was the Redneck's Last Words: "Look Ma! Watch this!". Fortunately I didn't say that. I may have said "I think I can clear this." Hopefully I only said it to myself. I don't know.

Walked to a village and called to get a ride home, then to the hospital, x-rays confirmed it. Fortunately no dislocation which is what I also feared.

Now, 7 days later, I'm still sore, with a nice disgusting yellow bruise on my chest. Sharp pains if I move the elbow a little more than a smidgen.

I'm mostly off the major painkillers, but Mr. Motrin and Ms. Aleve are still in the house. Señor Cuervo and Sri Kingfisher are also helping with the recovery.

Of course, like all house-bound bikers, instead of hitting the trail I hit flea-bay and well, let's just say, a nice shiny new bike is on its way to me right now..

Think of it as a rebound relationship.... ;-) Old shoulder on an old man, and a hot young bike. Yes!