I told Glen that I could read between the lines of his story. I told him I could even smell the forest and see the trees. He replied,
The smell was of freshly disturbed organic soil – I kept digging my fist into the soil trying to reposition myself. I had to fall uphill on my good side. Dave had pulled my bike out from between my legs. I tried to get him to help me reduce it but I guess the muscles are strong. I went from 9 out of 10 to 6 out of ten when I finally drug myself around and sat on the trail. When Dave left it was quiet. Sound was of woodpeckers. Then I thought about bear bait
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A 9/10 on the pain scale tells a lot of the story. I think all the brain can access at that level of pain are expletives. Getting the pain down to a 6 was a miracle, the miracle of hands working the soil. I've got no jokes, just wonder and admiration of your survival skills.
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