[Cmonzert]

I have been riding for a few months and really getting into it. I felt completely confident on my bike everytime I hit the trails, and was trying to ride every chance I got. When I would visit my parents in New York, I would bring my bike home to ride some trails early in the morning. My dad noticed my enthusiasm, and being a good dad who wants to spend time with this son, he started tagging along. Problem was, I was riding a new Cannondale and he was riding a 1990’s walmart-purchased bike. I would rip the trails, and he would be huffing and puffing trying to get around on this 50 pound piece of scrap metal. So father day rolls around, and I go to my local bike shop and pick him up a decent mountain bike. When I gave him the bike, I remember him looking at the bike with this look on his face like "Hey, this is pretty cool!!". I was psyched.
So we roll out Fathers Day morning to Stillwell woods on Long Island, and start riding around the trails. Im leading, and see a sign up ahead which gives you two options: Easy, or Most Difficult. Ive ridden the most difficult and thought to myself, "Well, he has shocks now. Lets see what he can do".
About a quarter mile down the trail, there is a section with some drop offs which could be pretty intimidating for a beginner rider, and I roll up to one and wait for him to catch up. When he rolls up to it and stops, looking at it, I say "Go for it. Just get some speed". He kinda smiles, saying "Speed? Are you crazy?", and proceeds to roll off this drop at about 3 MPH. I remember knowing things were gonna be bad when I saw his front wheel stop. So I stand there, watching my 58 year old dad go over the handlebars, hit his ribs on a rock sticking out of the ground from about 3 feet up, the bike falling on top of him, and him slding down the trail. With his brand new bike. I jumped off my bike and ran down and asked if he was OK, but he couldnt breathe. He sat there in a daze for a few minutes, and then insisted we keep going. I thought to myself, "No Way". We had to walk our bikes off the trail, sneak through some backyards, and ride about a half a mile back to the car. He refused to go to the hospital until about 2 weeks later, when he felt an itching sensation in his wrist. The diagnosis: Broken wrist, 2 broken ribs. Worst Father’s Day gift ever.

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