From Josh Lloyd - The Story As I Remember It...

Monday morning, August 24, 2015-

I picked up Jeff from his condo in Steamboat Springs, CO, at 8am. We loaded his bike along with mine on my car and headed out to ride. We rode up the Beall Trail to the top of Emerald Mountain, and Jeff waited patiently for me the whole time. The trail was beautiful, winding through dark shady sections of pines, stands of Aspen with a floor of Ferns, and finally into the Gambel Oak near the top. The conversation was mostly light and fun, we talked about Jeff's SCUBA excursions over the years, our riding options for the remainder of the trip, riding trips to Whistler again next year, Sun Valley or Jackson/Targhee the year after, and yes, the church.

Jeff quite often spoke with me about the importance and impact the church has had on his life. This day was no exception. Because he was following me up the trail, as he quite often did when riding with slow riders, he had plenty of time and more than enough breath to tell me the story of how and when he realized that it was how he wanted to live.

He told me about being raised with the church, and about how he let it slip a little to the wayside as a young man. How he and Annette would attend once or twice a month casually, sometimes only for Sacrament. Then, he told me about when Annette became pregnant, he felt he needed to decide how much of a role the church would play in his young family. He said he was bowhunting quite a bit that year, and he would go into the woods to hunt, find a quiet place to sit and watch for deer, and read The Book of Mormon. By the end of that summer, he said, he had read the whole book. It had inspired him, and reinvigorated his beliefs and faith, and he knew that the church was going to play a very integral role in raising his family. He urged me to do the same, as he believed my family and I could gain the same comfort and joy from it as he had.

We stopped at the top for me to rest, and we spoke with a "seasoned" (old) lycra clad local who arrived at the top shortly behind us. We talked trails, as Jeff always does when he has someone to listen, and got advice for future rides in the area as well as the most fun route down for our current ride. We resumed our ride down the Ridge Trail. Not far down from the top, a bee hit my arm and lingered long enough to give it a sting. We both talked about how rare stings had been for us, and Jeff mentioned how David Ewell now has to carry an Epi-Pen after being stung 7 times this year! We found our turn off to climb to the top of the Rotary Trail where we were treated to some fun swooping berms and a few small jumps for a small uphill effort. On our way down Rotary, from behind me, Jeff yelped and hollered. A bee had flown into his jersey and stung him on the chest! We joked about the coincidence and how it was sort of fitting as we were on the "Honey
 Stinger" race course...

We finished the ride, I dropped him off at the condo, ran to my hotel, changed my clothes, and swapped my Jekyll for my downhill bike. We were headed to Steamboat Bike Park!!! I met him and Annette back at their condo, where Annette had made me 2 P.B.&J. sandwiches, my favorite!!! We loaded up Jeff's Titus El Guapo, and made the short drive over to the resort. As usual, Jeff was wasting no time getting to the gondola, anxious to get our 1st run in.

Run 1 down Rustlers Ridge. Jeff was flying out in front of me, hollering back about how he "remembered that jump", or "that's the worst turn on the whole trail!". Somewhere around halfway down, he had a flat rear tire. We stopped, patched the tube, and it was back on! As soon as we got to the bottom, Jeff was right back on the Gondola, ready for run 2. I led this time as we ripped down Rustler's Ridge again. This time with no incident. Immediately back up the gondola for run 3. Jeff brought his bike in with us on the way up to increase the pressure in his rear shock as he had been bottoming it out on the previous runs. Never one to waste time, he made the adjustments on the way up. Run 3 he led again as we did a different variation of Rustler's Ridge. The bottom of this trail dumps riders right in to the start of the black diamond Buckin' Bronco trail. Jeff had been talking about this trail all year and how the series of tabletop jumps at the end were
 built to pitch you up high and down a steep landing. I followed him down it as he cleared them all perfectly. I was getting tired trying to keep up with him! We took a short break, had a Gatorade, and Jeff tried mightily (and unsuccessfully) to create a Strava segment out of the run we had just done on his phone. Run 4 we discussed repeating the variation of run 3, but Jeff didn't want to do it again until he had made it a segment. So we ran the same trail as runs 1 and 2. I led this time and was kind of loafing to conserve energy. A quarter of the way down Jeff yells "You better not crash! Or it's not going to end well for either of us!", which meant I was going too slow for him and he was right on my back tire! I picked up the pace, trying not to hold him up any more. Around the halfway point, I entered into an "S" turn section. Ripping through 1st dusty, loose berm, then the 2nd, which was more hard packed. Headed toward the rock encrusted jump ahead
 of me, I glanced over my shoulder to see Jeff sliding in a cloud of dust through the 1st berm of the "S". Crash 1. He got up, dusted himself off, fixed his dropped chain, and straightened his crooked seat. All the while yelling to me the play by play of what had happened. Not taking even a second to rest and collect himself, we were off again! We finished run 4 with no more incidents. At the bottom in the Plaza, we briefly discussed whether we were done? Or 1 more run? It was 3:40, which meant we had 20 more minutes, so, 1 more run... Bad idea...

On the gondola up for run 5, we discussed what trail to do. Rustler's Ridge again? Or put a different trail map on the Strava? I mentioned that I would like to do the Flying Diamond trail again at some point during the trip. It is a black diamond flow trail which I had done alone the day before. I had described it to Jeff, how it was a trail that had jumps you either have to "clear" (jump them at full speed in order to land smoothly), or "roll" them (slow speed roll down the jump with very little air, or go around it all together). He said he would try it, and we agreed he should roll everything, or go around them his 1st run down it. So he could see what it was like. I led down the trail and we made it to the 1st dirt road crossing more than halfway down the trail. We stopped on the road, talked about the top section, and Jeff confirmed what I had told him about the jumps and how many of them were not conducive to half jumping them as it caused very
 hard landings.

This is where the story gets difficult to tell. As this was potentially the last time I, or anyone, would see Jeff doing what he loved. Riding his bicycle.

I took off from the dirt road onto the last short section of Flying Diamond before the trail ends and merges with Rawhide. I was in the lead and feeling great! I was carrying nearly perfect speed and flying over the jumps as gracefully as a water buffalo can! I reached the end of the trail where it meets another dirt road where I stopped to wait for Jeff. What a great end to a great day this was looking to be! I could picture us telling Annette all about it over a delicious pork chimichanga soon! As seconds turned into a minute or two waiting for Jeff, I started to worry. I never am that far ahead of him. Especially on that short of a section of trail. Had he gotten another flat? Had he stopped to make a bike adjustment? Or, had he crashed?... Maybe another minute passed and I knew something had happened. I took off my helmet and goggles and began hiking back up the trail, fully expecting Jeff to come bombing down at any second... Nothing. I kept going,
 hastening my pace. The mountain was steep and the trail traversed using huge berms to change directions swooping down the mountain. Several turns up the trail, I saw Jeff's bike leaning neatly against some brush off the side of the trail. No Jeff. I ran to his bike to check for a possible flat tire, or other mechanical failure that may explain the delay. His bike appeared fine. Had he lost something and walked backup for it? I called out his name. And the reply came "I'm down". He was directly above me as the trail traversed down to the turn I was nearly to. I scrambled up through the brush to the trail above me to find my friend Jeff laying flat on his back in the middle of the trail below a "small" (relative to the other jumps we had been doing all day) step-down type jump. I asked if he was ok, and he told me he suspected he had broken his neck. He had severe pain in his neck, and the rest of his body had pins and needles so bad it felt like he was
 on fire. Oh, and the kicker, nothing below his neck hurt, and aside from being able to move his arms slightly, he could move nothing else... His wish to me as he was laying there was that I had been ordained an Elder in the church so that I could give him a blessing.

Knowing not to move him at all, I left him be, as he was in a good position to be stabilized and transported by professionals. He was slightly concussed, bleeding from his knee, elbows, and a few other small scrapes. But no serious bleeds. His concussion was causing him to repeat himself. Asking the same questions, and saying the same things over and over. Pleading with me to "just lift up my head a little bit. It's feels like it's way too far back, and it's making my neck hurt." I told him, I wouldn't as I frantically tried to find the emergency number for the resort. I knew their EMT's could respond quickly to help him. No luck. Frustrated, I quickly called 911. They were able to contact the resort and mobilize both the Resort's emergency crew as well as the ambulance, helicopter, and paramedics. It wasn't long before there were half a dozen people buzzing around him. Assessing his condition and injuries, and working to stabilize his head and neck.
 They removed his brand new BELL Super 2R full face helmet, which was completely destroyed, and got a spine collar on him.  By that time the helicopter was landed in a meadow above us on the mountain waiting to transport him, and the ambulance and paramedics had arrived. They continued to assess him, gave him some IV medications, and carefully moved him to an inflatable backboard. Once secured to that, he was moved to a wheeled "litter". He was carefully up the trail to the waiting ambulance gurney. Loaded in the ambulance, and hauled up the dirt road where I had last seen him upright to the waiting helicopter. I asked that he be transported to Salt Lake, but, was told the helicopter didn't have enough fuel to take him that far. So, off he went to Denver.

Now the really hard part... telling Annette and making the 2 hour and 45 minute drive to Denver for her to see her husband and the father of their children, Grandpa of their grandchildren, who I had been riding bikes with when he crashed and had been airlifted to the hospital... That was a very difficult moment in my life.

Luckily, Jeff's parents, Jay and Peggy, were at a condo in Winter Park, CO, with some friends. Winter Park is about a 1-1/2 hour drive to Denver. Jay and Peggy arrived at the emergency room of Denver Health mere moments before Annette and I, and we were all allowed to see and speak with Jeff before he went in for surgery. Before our arrival, at Jeff's request, the hospital had arranged for a couple of local Elder's to come give him a blessing. We were quickly briefed on his injuries, and the course of action they recommended to treat them. Then we were escorted to the waiting room for a very long night.

This blog Jeff's children have put together CannondaleRider.BlogSpot.com, picks up the story from here and details his injuries, surgery, and prognosis as accurately as I have heard it.

Many thoughts of what-ifs, and feelings of guilt have flooded my head for the last 2 days, as I wish more than anything that I would have made a different decision that may have avoided this tragic, life changing accident. But, I know Jeff is a strong man with a strong faith, and am optimistic and hopeful for his recovery.

My heart goes out to Jeff and his family, and stand ready and waiting by them to help in any way with Jeff's road to recovery.

My thanks goes out to the wonderful people of the Steamboat Resort Mountain Patrol, Steamboat Paramedics, airlift crew, and staff at Denver Health for helping to take care of my friend and great friend to my Dad, Jeff Page.