Challenges and Blessings

OK, so maybe “easy” isn’t totally accurate, but executing the gap jump certainly appeared manageable and doable, even for a guy who’d just turned 66.

 

Glenn LaFerriere knew there was risk involved as he approached that obstacle at Freedom Park in Williamsburg 13 months ago, but the thrill of mountain biking, he had found, is the adrenaline rush that comes from challenging limits, even if the outcome isn’t exactly what you anticipated.

 

Little could he have imagined.

 

An Upper School math teacher at Collegiate for 10 years, LaFerriere picked up the sport four years ago to ride with his son Jake and improve his own fitness level.

 

He quickly found joy in the experience, realized the health benefits, and dedicated himself to enhancing both his endurance and technical skills.

 

Soon, he was riding trails in venues around Central Virginia such as Leakes Mill Park, James River Park, Deep Run Park, and Pocahontas State Park. As he increased his time on the bike and intensified his efforts, he shed 20 pounds, and his pulse rate dropped from 70 to 50.

 

“I skied growing up,” said LaFerriere, a William & Mary graduate who previously taught in the Virginia Beach school system. “Skiing, you can go as fast as you want. When you get going too fast, you can hit a little bit sideways, and it slows you down.

        

“With mountain biking, when I got going too fast, I could hit a brake. As you get better and better, you hit the brake less. It’s the rush and the air going through your helmet. At 64 and 65, you don’t get a rush very often.”

 

A year or so after LaFerriere started biking regularly, his daughter Rachel Winheim invited him to assist with a sixth-grade youth group at Hope Church (where she serves as family ministries coordinator) on their mountain biking excursions. He gladly accepted.

 

“All I’d been doing was just riding,” he said. “Sixth grade boys want to jump. I had no concept of the jumping thing.”

 

On the first adventure to Deep Run Park, he watched as boy after boy sailed over the jumps. Three days later, he returned alone.

 

“I wanted to do them [the jumps] on my time and at my speed,” he said. “That introduced me to a new and different level. I realized that if I was going to ride with these kids, I needed to go faster and push myself to do things that I hadn’t thought of and didn’t know you could do.”

 

Enthralled and motivated, he began riding more and more, usually without incident. Then one day at Leakes Mill, he wiped out on a wet wooden bridge at the base of a downhill and fell six feet into some leaves between a stump and bush. No harm done, though. Just a few scratches.

 

Undaunted, he returned two days later with the plan to conquer the obstacle.

 

“I stood at the top of the hill,” he said. “I was about two feet down and was so scared that I forgot that one of the major things you do in mountain biking is lean back. I leaned forward. Went right over the front. Just scraped up my body.”

 

He was unbowed. The desire to “get it right” fired him up even more.

 

As LaFerriere progressed, Brett Frazier, the leader of the youth group, suggested that he try mountain biking on ski slopes (when snow wasn’t on the ground). Intrigued, he upgraded his bike to a full-suspension Commencal and headed to Bryce Resort to indulge his passion and test his skill at zig-zagging downhill with other devotees of his newfound passion.

        

“An amazing rush,” he said. “It was so much fun. That kind of led to trying this…”

 

“This” would be Freedom Park, which includes a course that prepares mountain bikers to negotiate tougher ski slopes that include precipitous drops. LaFerriere first traveled there alone in April 2021.

 

“I knew they had all these obstacles, but I didn’t do any of them,” he said. “I just didn’t feel comfortable, so I kept riding all summer, 75 to 100 times at Pocahontas. I was getting good [at conquering obstacles] at that [less demanding] level.”

 

Satisfied, though, that he he’d developed the skills at Pocahontas to negotiate more challenging jumps, he returned to Freedom Park Sept. 15, 2021, with the youth group to measure his improvement.

 

“I saw some obstacles called see-saws that I hadn’t done before,” he said. “You go up one part. You get to a certain point, and it flips down. I did two of those in a row. I was doing fine.”

 

Then came the gap jump. The first is an incline that rises to two feet, followed by a four-foot gap and a decline that begins at two feet. Next is a two-and-a-half foot incline, six-foot gap, and two-and-a-half foot decline. Speed, dexterity, and courage are essential.

 

He watched one of the boys go through the first obstacle, then instinctively circle back because he realized he was moving too slowly, then increase speed and navigate the second.

 

Time for him to try.

 

“I didn’t realize that this was a step up from what I’d done,” LaFerriere said. “It wasn’t like I was trying something crazy. I just didn’t realize the technique involved. I thought I could do the same thing I’d done at Pocahontas and my speed would cover it.”

 

It wouldn’t, though.

 

“I hit the first jump very well,” he said. “Except for the back [wheel] hit a little bit on the top and slowed me down.”

 

He doesn’t remember what happened next as he headed up the second incline. He knows only what Frazier told him.

 

“He said I pulled up on the bike and ended up going straight down and was thrown over the handlebars,” LaFerriere said. “I threw the bike away which is what you’re supposed to do so you don’t land on it.”

 

What he landed on, full force, was the second half of the immovable obstacle.

 

He broke 10 (of his 24) ribs — eight on the left, two on the right — punctured his lungs in three places, and separated his left shoulder. X-rays also revealed three compression fractures in his spine, but it was unclear whether they’d occurred earlier or as a result of the trauma.

 

Amazingly, he felt no pain.

 

“I don’t know why,” LaFerriere said. “I remember waking up and walking around. We’d just started the trip. I felt bad for the kids. I told Brett, ‘Hey, let me walk back to the van. I need to rest.’

 

“Brett said my eyes were rolling in my head. He knew it was a lot more serious than I realized. When I was walking, I felt a snap-crackle-pop in my ribs and said, ‘No, I can’t do this’ and sat down. I tried to get up one more time, but I couldn’t get up.”

 

Frazier called 911. Paramedics arrived quickly, stabilized LaFerriere, then transported him by helicopter to the VCU Medical Center where he was immediately treated in the emergency room before being admitted to the Surgical and Trauma Intensive Care Unit.

 

“I was in the ICU for three days because they wanted to take a full picture of my ribs before they went in and fixed them,” LaFerriere said. “Four of the ribs were still dangling. They were scared they’d puncture my lungs again. They finally got the picture and put things together with screws.”

 

If you know LaFerriere, you’re well aware of his delightful sense of humor, uncomplaining nature, and positive attitude. His hospital stay, broken bones, bruises, and welts hardly dampened his spirit.

 

“I never had a thought that I was in serious trouble,” he said. “I remember that I was having fun. I was joking. I don’t remember this big pain thing.”

 

Then, they got him up to walk.

 

“I hadn’t walked for five days,” he said. “When I did, I said, ‘My shoulder really hurts.’  When they took the X-rays, they didn’t see the break. Later on, they told me they had to get my ribs stable before they could fix my shoulder.”

 

He returned home after 11 days in the hospital and soon began walking in his neighborhood. Within a couple of days, he was covering two miles. He took a brief hiatus when he returned for shoulder surgery October 8, then resumed his exercise regimen.

 

While he had ground to make up physically, he was determined to return to action in whatever form that took and learn from the experience which, he well knew, could have had a much different outcome.

 

“I remember telling somebody that at Collegiate, if you fall, you’re told to get back up,” he said. “I told my calculus class, the first class I taught when I came back (October 25), ‘I’m not sure if I’ll ever ride again, but I hope so.’ That was in the back of my mind, Can I go back?”

 

Of course, he could.

 

“When my wife (Kim) got to the hospital, she immediately asked the doctors, ‘Are you going to tell him he can’t ride anymore?’” LaFerriere said. “The doctor said, ‘No.’ I was like, ‘Whoa!’ That rocked me. I was thinking it was over. He was thinking, if you want to ride, then ride. That gave me hope that things would work out. I was lucky, blessed. God has a purpose.”

 

While recovery brought challenges, it also brought blessings.

 

“Collegiate stepped up,” he said. “When I got hurt, four teachers immediately took over my four classes. I didn’t have to do one lesson plan. There wasn’t the anguish that I needed to get better to get back. Everyone was, Take your time. Don’t rush. Brett set up a meal train. Our neighborhood came through. I’m not one to ask for help, but I was forced to be helped. People are good.”

 

A week after shoulder surgery, LaFerriere rode an exercise bike at his physical therapy session. A week or so later, he took a spin around his neighborhood on his bike, bum shoulder and all. In late January, he returned to Pocahontas State Park to ride.

 

Lest you think this sexagenarian was acting ill-advisedly…

 

“I’m not that wild and crazy,” LaFerriere said with a laugh. “I did slow, and I did slow, and I did slow (stretching his words for effect) because I wanted to feel comfortable.”

 

“Comfortable” came in stages. Before his accident, as he sailed along on his bike, he experienced a natural high. Now, he was trying to regain his confidence.

 

“When I was taking air, it’s this much,” he said, holding his hands about a foot apart. “That’s a lot for me, but I felt like I was flying. Now, I’ve gone to probably 90 percent of what I was doing before. I’m close to the same speed. I went back to Bryce and did the downhill again. It was still fun. But if I don’t feel it, I don’t do it. I’m a lot more hesitant now.”

 

Life goes on.

 

“I’m not sure where the whole 67 fits,” he said, referencing his age. “I still have people looking at me like, What are you doing this for? Why would you go back? But when I tried it, stuff felt good. Before, I never thought I could fall. Now, sometimes that thought comes in, and I need to squelch it really quickly. So, yeah, there’s a little battle with that.”

 

He returned to Freedom Park several months after his accident to thank people who had helped him that day.

 

Will he return and ride?

 

“Not saying I won’t,” he said, “but I’m not sure I will. If I do, I’ll go at it a little bit differently, I hope.”

   ~Weldon Bradshaw