The first ever Fast and Fab Putnam Valley ride rolled out of Manhattan on Saturday October 10th, at 8:45 a.m. There were a total of 10 riders on 9 bicycles (including one tandem, which accounts for the unusual ratio), one driver and two dogs who made the trek on an overcast, damp and drizzly day. In fact, the weather was not as bad as most of the riders had feared, given the rain the night before and the gloomy forecasts we had all listened to attentively. Moments of partly dry road did greet us, and the occasional drizzle or low cloud cover (or our high altitude gain, depending on your perspective) never dampened us thoroughly. The temperature was mild and there was no wind to speak of.

Mary, our fearless driver, did a yeowoman's job of shuttling to and fro, the bagels that Paula M. had bought and the Gatorade, fig newtons, bananas, jam/peanut butter and other treats that Shawn and Paula had bought in the wee hours of Saturday before the ride started. Mary also had to keep a keen eye out on two special passengers, firstly her young Boxer puppy, Sundance, and my parents' Rotweiller, Sheba. The two dogs worked hard encouraging riders and supervising the distribution of food to all hungry cyclists. Mary leap-frogged the riders to check on everyone, hand us the floor pump when necessary and generally keep everyone's spirits up.

Given the road conditions/weather and the newness of the route for all except for us, (Shawn + Magda) the leaders, we stuck together as a group. Collecting every once in a while and ensuring that all riders made the right turns. The 46 mile route (from the Broadway Bridge) was gorgeous with the fall colors, the quiet roads and the mist covered hills - many of which we rode straight up, then down, then up again. It was the kind of ride in which most of us seemed to ride in our lowest, or our highest gears, and had little time in between.

We arrived at the camp at about 2:30 just as the sun poked through for a moment. Warm showers (indoors) were appreciated by all and cycling gear was gladly exchanged for civilian clothes. After settling down, we hopped in the support van and drove into town to take in coffee and Italian pastries in Cold Spring while peeking into any number of antique shops.

Selecting a place to eat for twelve (our number had increased by one as a friend of one of the riders drove in from Brooklyn to spend the night) turned out to be both time-consuming and frustrating. Because this was our first visit to the area, we had no prior knowledge of what was available, appropriate, and as we learned to our shock - not booked with reservations until 9pm. It seemed as just when we agreed to dine in a restaurant it would turn out to either be closed, booked until well after our bed time, or appear to serve black-suited wedding parties only. We finally were somewhat forced to accept the "family dining" establishment beside the train line which was Germanic in terms of cuisine, hearty in portions, and acceptable, if rather meaty in its menu.

The next morning we again traveled by van and car into Cold Spring for food. This time the feeding trough was selected in advance and we were on time and of one mind. The Main Street Cafe served well-presented, hearty breakfast portions to fortify us for the ride home. And although the waitress was unable to clarify why "eggs Benedict" are called "eggs Benedict," I think we all enjoyed the breakfast and the service.

The sun was out, the roads were still damp and the leaves were falling for our ride home. Even the wind was behind us (north-westerly) blowing us home. The conditions seemed much improved. We knew the route and the routine, and all seemed ripe for a quick ride back to New York.

As Magda and I saw everyone off from the camp we remarked on the beauty of the day and the ride. We were fresh for the up hills, and the down hills were much appreciated. However, less than 2 miles from the camp, disaster struck. When going over a quick little hump in the road and gaining speed down it, i braked gently and began to turn for the curve, which was rapidly approaching. To this day, we are unsure if it was this braking and turning or a crack in the road that began our slide, but something, in conjunction with too great a speed on too wet a road, caused our tandem to writhe and wiggle like a great fish beneath us. By letting go of the brakes and steering, we managed to right ourselves and would have been fine if the curve and guard rail on the other side weren't conspiring to make a 25mph crash look extremely nasty. I, as the pilot, chose to try to turn to make the curve and avoid the guard rail. Unclipping my right foot, I used the right foot/leg as an outrigger until I could hold us up no more and Magda and I went down. I suffered superficial road rash from my arms to my ankles, and the accompanying bruises. Magda, who remained clipped in all this time, seemed to have all her road rash concentrated on her ankle, where a dime-sized chunk of flesh is now missing.

Brian, who was behind us and saw it all, managed to control his bike, which also fishtailed when he tried to stop/turn to avoid running over us. He immediately came to our aid, as did a woman in a nearby house who saw the accident. She said about 4 car crashes a year happen at that corner as she allowed us to clean the grit out of the wounds and gave us some antiseptic.

Brian used his cell phone to call Mary, in the van, who came back to check on us. We sent Brian and Shana, who had also stopped, on ahead as we were determined to ride in spite of Magda's ankle. The damage - other than the scraping of bar-ends and the rear derailleur - consisted of twisted handle bars and a wheel whacked slightly out of line.

We asked Mary to stay close to us, to make sure both we and the bike could continue the journey. She did, and as we flagged her down to unload some extra layers, too much in the warm weather and sunshine, she drove past yelling "Paula fell!"

The riders ahead of us had no idea that we had fallen. Only Brian and Shana, who were behind us, knew. As we rode full speed and saw road flares, emergency crews, parked cars and a police cruiser, we were terrified.

By this point Paula was sitting up, on the road where she had landed while Kate (a graduate nursing student) was sitting beside her, giving her much needed support. She was conscious and soon an ambulance was there to take her to the nearest emergency room.

Going up a steep hill, Paula was passed by Scott. Gene, Scott's partner, was ahead of them and had made the correct right-hand turn at a fork, which is particularly tricky as it comes in the midst of a very steep downhill. Gene waited at the fork to make sure that those behind him would make the turn. When Scott rode down the hill with Paula behind, Gene called out "Scott!!" to alert Scott to the turn and to make sure he didn't go significantly off the route down the hill. Scott heard the word as "Stop!!" and braked to a standstill. As this happened, a car was driving up the hill on the other side of the road. Paula, realizing that Scott had stopped suddenly on the road, wanted to brake or swerve to avoid him, but her speed and the damp road conspired against her. Her bike hit the back side of Scott's bike and twisted off to the left-hand side.

Paula screamed and went airborne at what must have also been around or over 25 mph. She went somewhat to the side and over Scott, hitting him only slightly, and landed down the hill on her left shoulder, rolling a bit before coming to a stop. One of the motorists on the scene was a volunteer emergency services person and immediately had help on the way.

We decided that Mary would follow the ambulance to the hospital and assist Paula, and that the rest of the group would go on by themselves. Kate and Alpha went together ahead of the rest to be on time for a commitment in the city. Scott, Gene, Brian, Dave, Shana and Magda and I elected to ride together. In order to get Scott on the road again, we needed to do some major truing to his rear wheel, but other than that, all seemed to be well.

Aside from the dark cloud that loomed within us all over Paula's fall, it was a gorgeous ride. The sun, the leaves and the quiet country roads were wonderful to cycle along. Eventually Mary and Paula caught up with us as we were just north of Tarrytown, much to our collective relief. Paula, arm in sling, with X-rays in tow, brightened our spirits considerably and at a rest stop at the Rockefeller Church with its stained glass by Matisse and Chagall, we debriefed her on her injury.

Paula has broken her arm, just below her shoulder. It is a clean break, and with only minimal displacement. She has been taking some painkillers and sleeping in a somewhat sitting-up position, but is otherwise in good spirits. A visit to a specialist Monday gave her a better idea of what she can and can't do with her arm and when she can expect to gain full use of it, which will be in six to eight weeks.

Believe me, we are very happy that, in spite of the crash, she is well and will be fine. It really could have been so much worse given the speed, the road and many other factors.

Unfortunately, it is not only Paula that was damaged by the fall. Her hybrid frame is now toast, as both the frame and the top tube were damaged in the crash.