The purpose of this post is to remind myself of an important lesson from this bike ride: manage risks better. This needs to be a turning point in my life.
Planned vs. Actual
When riding my bike, I use an app on my phone called “Ride with GPS”. It’s very useful, if handled properly. On this bike ride, I planned to follow a community-generated route created in 2020. The original route was a 25.3-mile ride with 87% paved roads and 13% unpaved. The majority of the unpaved section started at the Arroyo Trabuco Golf Club. I looked on Google Maps and viewed the trail. It looked open, sandy and clear.
But, I really have no business riding on unpaved trails, much less mountain bike trails. Unfortunately, I made both of these mistakes, plus one more: not turning around when things got gnarly.
Here’s the route I traveled | Here are the locations of the 8 photos I took along the Arroyo Trabuco Bike Trail |
I got back around 4:00pm. That’s 5 hrs longer than my original plan.
My first warning came when I arrived at the Arroyo Trabuco Golf Club. The following sign was posted to tell me I was in some sort of danger. They weren’t wrong… but it wasn’t only the mountain lions I needed to watch out for… it was my own self. As I always say, “I am my own worst enemy”.
Cougar-Country (and not the good kind)
In 2004, a mountain lion killed 35-year-old cyclist Mark Reynolds, whose body was found shortly after ANOTHER cougar attack along a popular trail in the rugged Orange County foothills, of Whiting Ranch Wilderness Park. [I was only 8 miles away from this location] The chain broke on Reynolds’ bike, putting the cyclist near a stalking mountain lion. The lion dragged him off the trail, and Reynolds’ body went undetected.
Later that same day, the cougar, protective of its now partially buried prey, mauled another passing biker. Anne Hjelle, a 30 year-old fitness trainer and former Marine, was being dragged by the head into the brush. Hjelle was screaming, “I’m going to die! I’m going to die!” But her riding companion, Debi Nicholl, held on tight to Hjelle’s left leg and told her, “I am not going to let you die!” Nicholls threw her bicycle at the lion to distract it, but “he didn’t even flinch. He was so focused on her.” Two other cyclists arrived and threw rocks at the cougar. Hjelle survived, but was in serious condition. The body of Mark Reynolds was discovered by a sheriff’s helicopter farther up the trail, shortly after the attack on Hjelle.
Without knowing the “cougar-vs-cyclist” history of the area, my trip through the canyon started out nice enough. I was feeling pretty confident at this point (in my blissful ignorance).
But, things deteriorated.
Then, I came upon loose rocks/gravel which my bike can’t handle going uphill. So, I had to get off my bike and pull my bike behind me, through the hard spot, so I could get back on and drive forward. This was the next warning. I was headed into more difficult territory.
This was the next rock/gravel patch that I had to drag my bike through. My hands had no protection, and I was getting torn up. Not long after this, two mountain bikers came downhill, passing me in the opposite direction. They didn’t say a word. I took this as a good sign. It was a false hope.
Soon, the trail transformed from wide and rocky, into narrow and swampy. The Arroyo Trabuco Creek was supposed to be away from the trail on the east. I was riding alongside the muddy, swampy edge of the creek.
Within 5 minutes after this picture was taken, the slope of the trail was so much that I tipped over on my bike. I dumped out into the mud. The bag that I store my spare e-bike battery, broke its strap and the battery fell out into the mud. I had to turn my bike over, while I wrestled in the mud. I carried the spare battery in my lap for the next 6 hours. I seriously thought about dumping the spare battery along the trail, but it cost $750, and I’m cheap.
I should have turned around immediately. I was given at least 3 warnings that I was beyond my capabilities. I ignored these warnings. Here’s why: “My determination (mental toughness) plus my optimism (thinking things will get better) combined to push me further into trouble and eventual disaster.”
This is very troubling, because I am very proud of my determination and optimism. But, these positive words can be restated as, “stubbornness and poor risk management”.
The maps and routes I was using were a few years old. California has had some record breaking rainfall which changed the course of the Arroyo Trabuco Bike Trail and the Arroyo Trabuco Creek. The result was that I had to CROSS OVER the creek 3 times. I failed to recognize that I could have flooded my electrical wiring/motor as I went through 1ft of water.
Each time I went through the creek, my bike couldn’t drive up the embankment on the far side. Which meant I had to get off my bike in the water, and pull it out of the water, up on the bank, and past the gravel shore.
I used my app “Ride with GPS”, to see how close/far I was from paved roads. after I got through the creek for the third time, I faced the following hill. It was easily a 30 degree slope. But, I was only 50 ft elevation from the pavement. I could hear cars driving by on Crown Valley Parkway. I dragged my bike 2/3rds of the way up the slope. I stopped because I was physically exhausted, even though I was mentally tough-minded. I couldn’t pull uphill any further, I couldn’t hold on any longer, I let go of my grip on my bike, and it rolled to the bottom of the hill. I couldn’t recover; I called 911. The operator couldn’t locate my GPS location. I was in a blank area for their tracking system to find me. She sent a firefighter/ambulance/sheriff to come get me.
At this point I am defeated, embarrassed, and humiliated. In total, 6 people in 3 vehicles showed up. They couldn’t believe my story of how I got to this point. They were all looking at me like I was a fool. And I was a fool. The first responders couldn’t find me. There were multiple dirt trails around my area. I yelled out and they found me. They carried my bike up to the top. Then they carried me.
Here’s an aerial view of where I stopped, and couldn’t go any further.
They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital. I said no. But, because I was 10 miles away from my car, they wouldn’t transport me there. I had to ride my bike all the way back to my campsite. I made it, but it was a struggle.
Because I was 4 hrs late checking out of my campsite, there was a park ranger and sheriff waiting for me to arrive. They urged me to leave ASAP because the next campers were waiting to setup. I got in the car immediately, and they helped load up my bike and other stuff. I drove home exhausted, battered and bruised.