Genetic Disposition

I have a proclivity for dangerous activities. It’s probably somewhat genetic. My brother had a serious brain injury via a high-speed longboarding crash. My dad has broken the same bone that I just broke several times via waterskiing and high-speed falls.

I remember learning to snow ski when I was young. After my first lesson, I was supposed to attempt the beginner-level slopes.

“What’s the most dangerous hill here?” I kept asking. “I want to try that,” I insisted. And despite protests, I kept insisting. “Give me a slope that’s steep.”

So I dragged my dad to the top of an advanced slope. Give me one for the pros. Now this will get some speed, I thought. Then I proceeded to crash and roll down the entire course, top to bottom. And I enjoyed it. I finished covered in snow and bruises.

Even at amusement parks I cannot ignore the greatest thrills. I insist on the rollercoaster with the most flips in spite of my own severe motion sickness.

Each of my bikepacking trips ends with me asking, “Now how can we top that?”

A broken collarbone comes with the territory. If anything, maybe I’m lucky to have as few breaks as I do.

I had a difficult moment this morning in which I wanted to take a quick walk outside, but could not physically put my jacket on due to the collarbone break and sling that supports it. I stared, defeated, out my apartment window as a light snow flurry fell and powdered the streets with white.

I was in the same situation last year. I tell myself now that I have to be more vigilant, and I will be. I don’t want to spend every winter in rehabilitation from a crash. I’ll be more wary, I’ll gain more skill, and I’ll hope that this is the last bone break or muscle tear.

Ahead lies more cycling and bikepacking. Colorado is on the horizon. So is Utah. They are magnetic for me because of their sheer unpredictability. Trails that wind both vertically and horizontally, that cut through both mountains and wilderness.

At the end of the day, there is no fun without risk.

A proclivity for danger isn’t always a bad thing… in fact, it only sucks during rehab.