Wow, today prayers were answered. I felt the joy of two wheels and a lot of air beneath me. Yep, for the first time in over half a year I went dirt jumping at the Lake Arbor trails. Let me first explain how the morning unfolded.

I woke to a beautiful sunrise and I text messaged Neven (my partner in crime) 'game on'. This text message of cource implied that we were to rendezvous at my place around 7:15 and proceed to our secret hot-tub local for a morning soak. It was an awesome way to start the day. From there we rallied down to my doctor's appointment. The x-rays soon revealed that my hand was definatly on the mend. And although I should still ride with a conservative mindset, riding was now approved by the doc. I think all I really heard was that riding should commence immediately.

From the Doc's office Neven and I went to fuel up on Deli-Zone goodness. As the coffee gut was setting in, we made our way down highway 287. With reservation, we watched the trees bend to the will of the wind. But via phone, Fisher encouraged us to continue to the Lake Arbor jumps where we would meet and so we continued. As we unloaded the car, the questions started haunting my mind. How would my hand hold up? Could I even jump anything out here? Would I be relegated to the kiddies playground of one-foot high lips and gentle rollers? But like an old friend, the jumps at Lake Arbor remained true to the memories that I have been rerunning in my head for the past six months. I followed Fisher into couch (the small line) and soon I was following him into a slighlty bigger line. It was so awesome, pumping each lip just right to feel the bike arch up under me and meet backside.

Neven's bright smile soon matched mine as she attempted the ever-daunting first jump in couch; one which always unleashes a butterfly or two in my stomach. She was playing defense on the first jump. But the ball soon changed hands and she started to relax and nose into the backside of the jump. I was so proud of her. The jump is a real mind f**k.

But the real joy unleashed itself when Fisher told me to follow him into a line I had never even considered before. The jumps easily matched the biggest jumps I've hit to date. I watched as Fisher landed each jump in his true buttery smooth fashion. "Okay" I thought, "I can atleast ride up to the lip of the jump behind Matt". On the second run in I decided to commit to the jump. As I pedalled to the lip I saw Fisher float into the air. My heart rate slowed and I met the lip with confidence. Before I new it my front tire greeted the landing gently and the rest was history. After several more attempts I was hitting the second one in the line. As I once wrote for work, "The beauty of a bike is best witnessed five feet off a lip, twelve feet above the ground, and miles away from all your concerns." -Me



All you dirt jumpers out there know exactly the feeling I'm talking about. That feeling of having wings especially after they have been clipped. Neven, Fish - thanks for being apart of one of the best days of my life!