The girls may have gone home, but Jon and I still had some unfinished business. The Flow is open on Sundays from 12 to 6, so we rushed there once we woke up after a short amount of sleep. The place is huge. Of all the time I was there, I didn't get to ride all of it. When we first got there, Jon was riding the spine and wallride in the street section while I tried some things in the spine mini. It was a nice secluded part of the park, and I had plenty of freedom to work on grinding the coping-to-coping spine (which I finally did nail) but one thing I noticed while I was there was that all the guys seemed to follow me no matter what empty part of the park I ventured to. It was annoying and I had to hop from spot to spot a lot, but it was rather amusing to see them try to show off... and sometimes fail... and then I felt bad for existing. Crazy boys. Why do I never get this kind of attention at my local park? Why can't I find a boy around here? Why have I remained single for the past couple of years? And the guys that actually do muster up the courage to even talk to me aren't people I'm very interested in... but I'll still let it all go because I know it can't stay this way forever. I'll find that person someday. They may not be a rider at all. Anyway, while being pinned on top of the deck by all these curious men, I saw Jon do a turndown out of a wallride. When he landed on the bank he seemed to just fall on his side and he started hobbling around, but he was up and riding again in no time so I assumed he was fine. What I didn't notice was that he had twisted the leg he fell on. Then he decided that his leg was broken and he should go to the hospital. He had been a huge dickhead to me for some bullshit reasons prior to our arrival at the Flow, and as I saw him over reacting and spitting his pain at me and then running away instead of letting me talk to him, I decided at that moment that he was my enemy and I let him go to the hospital by himself. I rode the rest of the time without guilt, but with anger. I almost cleared this large first box in the rhythm, I feebled this long tall ledge (and to my delight, I was complimented for it), and I dug up the courage to shoot for my first sub box which was kinda high, and I came very close to landing it about three times and this local guy Nate helped me out. I liked meeting Nate. He was mellow and down to earth. He was injured at the time and wasn't supposed to be riding at all, so he just aired out of quarters and did some "gentle" things. I could tell he was an amazing rider. I hope I can return to Columbus very soon... we found the best, cheap hotel that's surrounded by all of our favorite restaurants like an all you can eat pizza buffet, an Italian restaurant, Subway, Arby's, Perkin's... and then important stores like WalMart... all less than 30 seconds away.
After we all got kicked out at 6 PM, I stood in front of a fan taking off my pads. I was completely soaked with sweat... I think that may have been a first. I've always been really close to being entirely drenched, but this time there wasn't a dry spot on my shirt anywhere. I had a really good time riding by myself, which just shows me that I don't ride bikes for the social aspect unlike many people I've met. I noticed Jon walking in on crutches, and at that moment I realized that the trip was suddenly over. We weren't riding Flow a second time, we weren't riding Chenga a second time, and we weren't going to ride Chenga 2 at all.
So he didn't break anything. He bruised his bones as I predicted, but he also ripped up some muscles and tendons around the bones. He had it wrapped and was advised to stay off of it. The drive back to the hotel was held in a cave of silence, but I wasn't conscious of it. My head was still filled with a serenity and exhaustion of riding. Little did I know that I was now a slave by default. I looked up the closest 24 hour CVS Pharmacy (since he refused to accept any other pharmacy) and we picked up his painkillers. Then we ate at an all you can eat pizza buffet and I carried all the food back and forth. I found myself doing countless favors for him. He said his standard "thank you" so much that it became an automated action of habit rather than a symbol of gratitude for my tripled, uncomplaining sense of burden. I enjoyed my dinner and our stroll (well, I was the only one strolling) through WalMart to pick up Jon's necessities. I didn't know that I would soon be the subject of a guilt trip later that night for not going to the hospital with him when he so desperately "needed" me. I know the exact why I rode my bike instead, and although he played those old cards on me, I felt no guilt. Because I didn't go doesn't mean I don't give a shit. It's more like I realized what was more important to me than seeing his teensy increase in comfort as I wasted hours in the hospital listening to him whine and complain about everything in the same fashion as a snotty girl. I'm satisfied with the decision that I made. This all might sound quite cynical to you, The Reader, but no one can change how I think and behave, much less make me feel guilty for it. I knew what I was doing and I also knew that I wasn't making a mistake that I would regret later. And I knew that he didn't break his leg.
Another thing I realized as I was falling asleep that night was that he takes our relationship way more seriously that I do, as if we were dating. And he's putting himself through hell because of it. He's much too sensitive and insecure, and he needs to learn how to lighten up and take things like a man rather than bitching all the time (which brings everyone else down), or else he's going to continue to be miserable and it'll be nobody's fault but his own. He has no right to blame others for his misfortunes.
We woke up and are a great "breakfast" at Perkin's and quickly escaped the flooding city to spend the whole day driving home. When we got to my house, I spent two hours unpacking his truck with assumed responsibility. By this time I was rather annoyed by his easy way out of everything and his lack of motivation to help in the slightest bit... and then hearing him complain even more about having nothing to accomplish at his house. Well, it doesn't take a healthy leg to do things like reading or updating his website for once, or just to relax in front of the TV. Damn, I had work to do, and after doing so much work for him, I had lost all of my desire to help him in any form. I didn't want anymore of those lame "thank you" craps either.
Reflections
OHHHH, the stupid drama. It's unavoidable on every roadtrip. Everything was great and Jon turned out to be excellent at bumming me out real tough for no good reasons. I learned a lot about his behavior and mind through many observations that aren't necessary to list out. I probably should have left all this bull about Jon for a blog entry, but I decided that if I was going to write a story, it ought to be all the honest facts pulled straight out of my personal journal. Roadtrips are more than just riding, they're also about the friendships that you make and break, All I can say is that the roadtrip was amazing anyway and the riding was better than last year, and the mood was amplified tenfold. I met some new girls that actually could surprise me, and my old friends have improved to the point that they're spooking the guys. I was taken aback to find out that people were impressed with me as well. I remember overhearing one of the local badasses of Indiana say, "... the girls are going to be kicking our asses in a few years." And he's probably right. And I knew it would eventually come to this. When I was just beginning to ride, there were no girls in freestyle really (non flatland anyway), and the best ones were in it for less than three years at that point and weren't very good. I knew that the BMX community just needed to give us a chance to learn and progress, and it was only a matter of time before we could become worthy competitors in contests and blow the socks off of the men watching the WOF Jam. I can't even imagine how out-of-hand the next jam will be. It's not about the guys that respect us, the drama of a roadtrip, the complications of money, hotels and jumbled roadways.... in the end, we're all searching for the same goals and feeling the same excitement, and it's a feeling of euphoria... something much bigger than the fact that we're riding bikes. We're making a difference to strangers, to females from all over the globe, and to our own individual lives most of all. Haha... and let me end it with the most appropriate way possible... Go Girlpower!
