The always-charming hanging chain cholla, or jumping cactus. (photo courtesy of Wikipedia.org)
I broke one of my cardinal rules of mountain biking today. Which one? Well, just the one that states:
Don’t do anything stupid, like run into cactuses.
See, I was on an unfamiliar trail. I was looking too far ahead on the trail, trying to determine its contour and direction. I was examining all this so carefully that I failed to notice the exact nature of the flora toward which I was whizzing – I thought it was a palo verde, at worst. Not big deal, but a little thorny.
Nope. This was the legendary cholla, or jumping cactus. And it is a cast-iron bastard of a plant.
I was blissfully unaware of the nature of this plant until it smacked me in the left forearm and left lower leg. Almost immediately, my arm started swelling and blood started oozing out of my newly ventilated skin. One large ball from the cactus was still stuck in me. I opted to dislodge it with a careful flick of the finger since not many of the spines were attached.
Then I yank the remainder out by hand since they were all big enough to grip … I didn’t need the big ol’ Leatherman tool in my Camelbak.
I was pretty okay at that point, except the swelling at the impact point was getting really big. It looked like I had a marble under my skin, or like a tiny alien was ready to burst out and start singing “Hello, my baby – Hello, my honey – Hello, my ragtime gaaaaaal!” And I started getting really tired, like I just wanted to stretch out on the trail and go to sleep.
I was pretty mystified about it, and wondered if there was some toxin in the cactus. I’m pretty sure there is, but I didn’t think it was that strong.
So it was breaktime. I just sat in the shade and drank some water for a few minutes, and then got back on and rode a few more hours.
It turned out to be a good ride, even with its reminder of that all-important rule of not running into cactuses.
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Ha! Being an Arizona kid, I know exactly what a cholla-in-the-hand feels like. It sucks. It stings, a lot. There are tiny barbs on the end of cholla spines that really piss off your skin.
Guess we all have to go through that ritual, sooner or later. And hey, this is still smarter than when you bunny-hopped the rattlesnake…
Yeah, but bunny-hopping a snake doesn’t suck – that’s cool! (A-huh, huh)
As a kid, we used to play chicken by riding our bikes down the mountain and jumping off before we hit these. We went through so many tires!
sat down on a rock on a trail in arizona two days prior, got me in the butt,not fun and certainly not pretty! got on a plane headed back to the east coast touched down in the east and two hours later i look like the Lion King! No toxins—MY ASS!