Whistler Mountain Bike Park
Our time in Whistler is over, and we're now in Seattle. A few photos from our time there:
The Whistler Mountain Bike Park as seen from our room in the Sundial Boutique Hotel.
Duncan taking a break on the mountain.
Whistler Mountain Bike Park.
On the mountain, Duncan fell more often, but far more gracefully -- he'd jump off his bike in mid-fall and generally land on his feet, and walked away essentially bruise-free. Me? I went down twice, but each time I went down hard. The first time I fell, I tumbled, and when I righted myself, I saw two long cuts running down my left thigh. They weren't bad, but blood was beginning to run from them. I looked at the cuts for a moment and thought, "Cool!"
As we were gearing up at the rental store in the morning, I remember wondering if I really needed all the protective gear -- the helmet was a given, but forearm-elbow pads and shin-knee pads? Later in the day, I wondered, "What would have happened if I hadn't worn the gear?" Let's say it wouldn't have been pretty and leave it at that.