By Phil Kelly
I know my wife is volatile. I knew that when I proposed. What do you expect when you’ve got a mix of Sicilian and Hungarian for your roots? Although I’ve never had the horses head in the bed from her dad, The Don, this could be one of those moments when I have something to answer to when I get back. That’s if I get back.
Right now my wife is saying “Fxxx Fxxx Fxxx” very loudly. She’s literally ripping at her clothing trying to get up but I can see it’s snagged on her handlebar. I can see this as I am still pinned under the bike. I don’t volunteer a solution as I’m too busy wondering if once she is up, and while I’m still pinned underneath the bike, she’s going to put the boot in and teach me a lesson for not listening to her.
Rewind about 30 seconds and we’re entering a section of the Rock garden where it’s steep. We’ve ridden over some massive boulders and have got off on others. We’re tired and I’m getting pissed off with getting off on descents. So we’re riding. Gina is telling me it’s too steep and to stop. I ignore her for a moment too long before trying to bring us to a halt. The front wheel goes left; the rest of the bike goes right. We land. Painfully for Gina.
So how did we end up in this strange predicament? 9 months previously, and in a moment of lunacy, I recruit my wife to do the TransRockies – a 7 day mountain bike race across the Canadian Rockies. Entries are teams of two so as a way to allay my wife’s fears I further suggest that we shall do this on a mountain bike tandem. That way nobody can get left behind….
Between that moment and sometime the afternoon of Day 5 there’s a story to tell…