Jumping Journal: February 13, 2013

Gee has it really been that long.  Almost 4 years since I last jumped.  I guess I didn't quite make the 120 consecutive months of ski jumping.  I did manage to pull off 111 months though.  Not bad for an old fart like me.  Guys my age aren't suppose to be out jumping, that's for the kids.

 

April 2010 saw my vehicle registration come due.  I had already seen the stupid idea of driving was costing me a fortune each year and I was already thinking of giving up driving when the registration came due at the end of April 2010.  On the day of the opening ceremonies to the Vancouver Winter Olympics I got the news the car was pretty much junk.  I was leaking antifreeze through the head gasket and the transaxle bearing was going out.  I knew come the end of April I was done driving.  I knew this was going to pretty much put a crimp into any jumping.

 

Time passed by and I finally ended up losing the streak that I had had ever since I started jumping in January 2001.  Bummer.   I didn't really mind.  Ever since 2006, 2007...somewhere in that time frame, long before the digger on the K90 in Lake Placid I had been getting 'cold feet' to jumping.  I knew my mind was working on me and it didn't really bother me anymore.

 

Even by the end of the summer of 2010 I still was in shape to be biking back and forth to Lebanon to go ski jumping so I left it alone.  Winter of 2011 was no better and by then the bike was starting to give me all kinds of fits so I was still left sittiing at home.

 

The summer of 2011 came around and I started doing a lot of biking. The original plan was to only be riding for errand running.  The summer of 2011 changed that and I ended up riding 12,000 miles in 2011 as a results.  A big chunk of the miles was purely pleasure riding.  I did go up and watch Dion Cup in early  September.  It seemed a bit strange to be back around ski jumping again.  I can't really say the motivation to jump was there though.

 

Last winter I thought about trying to drop in on some of the jump meets if the weather would cooperate.  After the worst winter since I moved up here, weatherwise, I managed to keep myself away from the hills once again.  I still managed to grab the start of what would end up being a 21,200 mile year for 2012.  I was out in the midwest when Dion Cup came around so I didn't manage to get up to Lebanon for the meet.

 

During the late fall and on into New Years Eve it seemed like once a week or once every two weeks I was riding up to the Lebanon/Hanover area.  I knew I was easily in shape but I also knew I didn't have any lighting equipment for riding home after dark.

 

Shortly after the start of the new year winter started to turn on and I also found myself having a shopping bag hanging off my mailbox.  In that shopping bag was a headlight.  I knew I was in trouble, many more ways than one, biking related and otherwise.  I knew if I didn't want to find myself out riding all the time after dark the simplest secret was to not start riding after dark in the first place.  I kept avoiding it.  I also kept managing to talk myself out of going up to Lebanon or over to Andover for any of the jump meets.  I had thought about it but I always managed to talk myself out of it generally letting the weather make me a whimp.

 

Shortly after the start of new year I also received an email announcing that Master Championships was going to come back to the Eastern Division for the first time since 1995.  I was now thinking about definitely putting the skis back on and hitting the jumps again.

 

I kept waiting and waiting look for decent weather.  I knew the competition was coming sooner and sooner.  I kept watching the current and the extended forecast and I was seeing the forecast for the week leading into the competition was looking awfully nice.  It would all depend on if it stayed that way or if it ended up changing.

 

Well the week in question...Wednesday through Saturday looks gorgeous.  Maybe a bit on the warm but for winds and for riding the bike back and forth to Lebanon the forecast was looking the best of the season.

 

This afternoon I took off and rode on up to Lebanon.  I knew talking with Dan that he knew where my skis and jump suit was at but he didn't know where my boots were.  I knew where they were the last I was up there back for Dion Cup 1.5 years ago.  After getting up to Storrs Hill I walked up the stairs and found both my boots and helmet weren't where I last knew them to be.  I had the skis and took off and walked over to the jump inn to see if I could find a pair of boots that I might be able to wear.  After trying on several pairs I managed to find something that I figured would work okay.  I walked back over to the lodge to see if I might be able to scrounge up a helmet or not.  I got lucky finally.

 

I suited up and headed out the door.  I was already running late but that didn't bother me any.  I figured if I got three or four jumps in I would be fine.  I knew to expect the first couple to be a bit hairy thanks to not having jumped in four years.

 

I put the skis on at the top of the landing hill and after Jared took his first jump of the evening I rode the landing hill.  It wasn't pretty.  I haven't been on skis for a while and it showed.  I walked back up and grabbed several more landing hill rides before I went up for the first jump.  The last two landing hill rides felt half ways decent.  I won't say they were great but they were definitely better than the second one.  I couldn't get/keep the skis under me on the second one to save my soul.

 

I walked up the trestle and put on the skis.  I was looking down the inrun and I yelled down to Jared "I don't think I should be up here".  After another minute or so I finally decided to go for it.  I was hoping I could remember how to land, err keep the knees bent instead of trying to stiff leg the landing.

 

I rode down the inrun and barely jumped at the takeoff.  It was definitely one of the shorter jumps I've had in a very long time...like since the first week or so of jumping.  I landed it smoothly and came to stop at the end of the outrun fine and jim dandy like.  I walked back up for the second and after Jared took his next jump I walked on up the inrun.

 

I put on the skis and was feeling much more comfortable than before the first jump.  I got the signal from Jared and headed on down the inrun.  Much better inrun position.  Jumped at the takeoff.  I hadn't even landed yet and I was shocked.  I wasn't expecting that nice/far of a jump all night long.  I landed smoothly and started down the remainder of the landing hill.  Right before the transition I must have gotten my weight forward and I went down.  At first everything seemed fine but then right before coming to a stop I could feel it.  I was already wandering how this was going to turn out.

 

I came to a stop and went to reach back to take off the left ski.  I knew that ankle was hurting.  I wasn't sure if it was sprained/twisted or if it was worse than that.  I knew I wasn't going be able to take the ski off myself.  Not a chance.  Someone came out and took the ski off for me.  I already had taken the right one off.  I decided to try to see if I could stand up and walk it off or if I was screwed.  I knew before my foot could even touch the ground that their was no way I was going to be able to walk on the left foot.

 

After a bit of thinking it through I grabbed a couple of shoulders from the ski patrollers and managed to hobble into the ski patrol room.  They took off the boot and it seemed to come off smoothly.  When they took the sock off and I saw the ankle I pretty much knew that didn't look quite right.  It was swollen but I had bad feelings about it.

 

After some discussion and some time spent chatting in the ski patrol room they boxed the leg up and Dan said he would take me to the hospital.  I knew I wasn't even going to press my luck and skip the hospital.  I pretty much knew it was broken.  I hadn't broken any bones before but I knew this was worse than a couple of the twisted ankles I had as a kid.

 

I got to the hospital and after getting the xrays it was found I had both a broken ankle and tibia.  I also had a dislocated ankle as well.  So much for jumping in the Masters Championships this weekend.  Dan came back and picked me up after they had the leg set and casted and I went back to his place and spent the night there before he gave me a ride home in the morning.

 

Oh well, I guess I'll have two jumps in this winter...two more than I've had in either of the past three winters.

 

Crash(the name just never dies)