George Brannigan

Risk Calamity and Injury

Risk. We're all familiar with it, but many of us don't want to give it much thought. It's so much easier to tuck it away to a safer place at the back of our mind. Just like fear, the less we think about risk, the less it interferes with enjoying the ride.

 Over the next few months we are digging deeper into Risk. What does it mean to riders who make a living riding bikes? How do they process risk and balance it against the demands of their careers? We'll talk to professionals who understand the impact of risk on our psyche. What happens when the consequences of risk take a bad turn? We'll spend time with the doctors and nurses that fix us when it goes wrong and we get broken. What do they do to mitigate risk? We'll examine ways to make riding safer and that enable us to either take more risks, or be safer while taking the ones we already take. And finally, what can we, as regular riders, learn from all of this?

This is a multi-part series about some of the big and scary parts of our sport. Our Risk series is made possible in part by support from Your Financial Tree, who provide insurance to athletes - professional and amateur - and enable them to take risks with a little more peace of mind.

Fabio Wibmer

Fabio Wibmer steps off while riding his grandmother's bike for his Out of Mind video. 

My worst injury was a conspiracy of inattention and equipment failure. I think. 

In 2001 I was riding a Santa Cruz Bullit. It had been born orange but after both ends failed catastrophically and were replaced, at different times, it became a deep 90s BoXXer red. The Risse Racing rear shock I was trying out had blown at some point but I kept riding it for some reason. In my memory the suspension didn’t actually feel much worse. 

It was the age of biker cross in the Whistler Bike Park. I was there for my buddy Cedric’s stag and while we were all riding, I was the only keen mountain biker. The course at the bottom of the Fitzsimmons Chair finished with a table that someone later told me was 35’ from the lip to the beginning of the tranny. In memory it’s 47. It was probably 23. 

Maybe I was going a little fast for my skill level (virtually unavoidable) or maybe my weight was too far back. I think it’s fair to say I didn’t lay a satisfying Vanderham-style whip. Instead I got bucked and overshot the landing. The last thing I remember is thinking ‘oh fuck’ as my hips crossed the vertical plane of my handlebar. (this is the part where I apologize to and thank the first responders and medical staff - it is oddly challenging to summon gratitude for those you have no memory of)

The next thing I remember is regaining consciousness. I was walking through the Whistler Village with my friend Craig. It was almost dark and something like 5 hours after my crash. I had spent those 5 hours asking my patient* buddy two questions; “is something wrong with my lip?’ (as I poked my tongue through the hole in my face) and, “what happened? Once tallied I had punctured my lip below my nose, compressed a vertebrae to the point of fracture, taken most of the flesh off both my knees, (my pads slid down) and broken a few ribs, but pile driving my head into the hardpack was the only serious issue. And I had spent some indeterminate period unconscious, perhaps 5 minutes, emitting the call of a wounded burro.

* I don’t remember much but in the murky margin between semi and mostly conscious he actually seemed more mocking than patient. It was only five hours FFS.

I spent five months in a haze and in the 17 years since that time, my jackass friends have called me inventive names like ‘concussion boy’ every time I forget something trivial. Like their names. Actually I think I have made a full recovery, aside from the vulnerability that is a component of post-concussion syndrome. The best news is I can’t even remember the last time I banged my head...


George Brannigan

George Brannigan crashes at the UCI DH World Tour in Fort William on June 5th, 2016 // Bartek Wolinski/Red Bull Content Pool

If we thought about it too much we’d probably quit. denizens tend to ride aggressive terrain and to ride it appropriately. I don’t like saying it any more than you like hearing it, but injury is a possibility every time we put feet to pedals. Is that spectre part of the allure? I’m not so sure. If actual physical risk was a requirement for activities that suck in danger seekers, Fortnite, slasher flicks, and roller coasters wouldn’t exist.

I know very few riders who have always fallen into the casual category, likely because of both where I live and my chosen ‘profession.’ I do however know some who have become casual riders. Before I met my surgeon-neighbour, whose hands are slightly more useful and valuable than mine, he broke both wrists and was unable to wield his scalpel for six months (I don’t yet know the details ). He still rides but has forsaken gravity, choosing the few trails on the North Shore that go up and down very little. I have another friend who can’t fathom taking the sorts of risks that are well within the accepted range for many of us. His words convey admiration but his face suggests pity and bewilderment. And yet the gap between what he does on a bike  - occasionally ride to the beach in the summer, - and what I do, is smaller than the gap between what I do and what Andreu Lacondeguy does. Risk tolerance is a relative concept.

There are a handful of riders who can go toe to toe with Andreu on the bike, but nobody seems to handle the pressure like he does. It’s like he is laughing at 50 foot drops at Rampage or 65 foot backflip tables at the Fest series for thinking they could mess with him. He comes off as invincible. And yet he has at times stepped away when he hasn’t felt comfortable, both at Crankworx and once when the wind at Rampage made his run even more dangerous. Maybe confidence is dependent on our ability to know when we should step away?

Within the treacherous realm of impolite trails, jumps and drops, we all take steps to manage our exposure. Turning my back on moves that used to be routine is okay with me now, on days when I’m not feeling it. Unfortunately management only goes so far when you ride your bike on the edges of civilization because randomness rarely works in our favour. Trails change from day to day, branches fall, saboteurs sabotage, bears and/or cougars appear, bicycle parts fail, our reckless buddy up front dislodges a baby head because of his heavy brake hand: unanticipated circumstances are part of the allure of playing in the woods or the desert, but they are also the most unruly peril we face.

A huge part of our industry is devoted to making strap-on bits to keep us out of hospital, but somehow that’s ‘gear.’ To me the reality behind helmets, braces, gloves and ‘armour’ is obscured by the level of denial that is essential for those of us who won’t stop doing stupid things on mountain bikes until we are forced to. Ours is also a sport that rewards and exults bravado, from the top to the bottom. What feels better than cleaning a rock face or a drop we’ve been eyeing up for years? We are like moths to flame.

MX riders face consequences that are usually more severe; when a lone mountain biker breaks a wrist at that very same moment a motocross rider has bisected a femur. Or two. More severe undoubtedly, but without the benefit of statistics, my impression is falls are less common in that realm. Feel free to correct me since my moto knowledge is limited (as if you needed permission). There are only so many femurs to go around. Roadies have cars and road furniture to deal with, and for racers, especially crit racers, falling is inevitable. But I think it’s fair to say that there are roadies who go years without crashing, and serious racers who go months, but mountain bikers sometimes crash multiple times on the same ride. Skiers and surfers can sometimes opt to fall into something soft. You can probably see what I’m getting at. 

Mountain bikers aren’t the hard men and women of action sports. Bmx riders make most of us look like scooter kids. And yet when you correct for the lunacy of base jumping and wing suits, it’s tough to argue us off a 5-deep podium, after accurately adjusting for any biases I may have.

There is another adjustment to make as well. South of the border it was just announced that the life expectancy of American citizens dropped in consecutive years for the first time since 1916-1917 when both WW1 and the Spanish influenza eroded the numbers. The current plagues however are inactivity and obesity and more recently drug overdoses, suicides and liver disease have moved the needle back further. Compared to the average North American human, most mountain bikers look like junkies. That’s not a perfect analogy, but the 20lbs of fat most adults gain every 10 years is closer to 3-4 for my mountain biking friends. And for some it’s gone the other way as they eat more kale. Cro Magnon kale. My MTB buddies may not feel great all the time, but they look pretty good for their ages.* And that is probably a relatively reliable indicator.

*just ask them

So. Sorry, Not sorry. We’re going to talk about these perils. You may not want to tune in, but our hope is that it’s a productive exploration, so we hope you will read, enjoy, and even participate in the discussion. I have spoken to pro riders like Matt Hunter, Miranda Miller and Jesse Melamed about how they recovered from their worst injuries and I talked to Matt Macduff about why he calls the crash in South Africa that easily could have killed him, “the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” We are going to talk about protective gear, speak to a man who recently sustained a spinal injury and investigate the upside of participating in a sport that engages most muscles in our body, increases adrenaline concentration, and taxes our cardiovascular system. As well as sometimes busting us up. We’ll also talk about the psychology of risk and what makes some people seek out danger while others go to incredible lengths to avoid it. Finally we delve into the secretive world of bike park injuries by speaking to ER staff from Whistler and elsewhere to line up any convergences that may lead to increased injury risk. 

Once a month we’ll be releasing an article that examines the impacts, both positive and negative, of engaging in an activity that virtually guarantees some level of injury on occasion. Look for the next instalment on January 15th. 

It could even be that the boogie man becomes less scary when we stop pretending he’s not there.

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+5 Cam McRae Pete Roggeman AJ Barlas Poz E-wok

"It could even be that the boogie man becomes less scary when we stop pretending he’s not there. "


+4 ReductiMat Cam McRae Allen Lloyd goose8

Can so relate to post-concussion haze; in my case it was coupled with episodic depression and lasted about 3 years. Saw a therapist a few times but didn't stick with it. Really should have.

That accident and injury forever altered my riding and my relationship to risk in MTB. I ride bigger, scarier stuff now, but with improved skills and a much more honest risk assessment.


+1 Cam McRae

Head injuries are incredibly difficult and it can be impossible to know when you are actually healed.  I fell and had whiplash and a mild concussion.  2 months later I felt fine, but lightly bumped my head.  2 days of headache and nausea followed.  It stays in the back of my head now that any bump could cause another issue.  It has made me really appreciate joint injuries, because at least with those you know when you are healed.



Oh boy I am right in the middle of this and am totally with you on the joint injuries I would take one of those any day.



Very interesting that you're post-injury scenario has led to accomplishing "bigger/scarier stuff"...  It sounds like you'd be a perfect case study for this series! Good on you for finding a way to conquer your demons (or at least corral them at the right moment).


+4 Cam McRae cxfahrer AJ Barlas Adrian White

I look forward to reading these. 

As one of WBP's statistics I kept flaunting Darwin with my progression vs. (in)ability, (all while looking like a storm trooper with neck protection).  Reversion to the mean occurred and I was repeating my life story every 30 minutes to some poor paramedic in the ambulance on the drive to Lion's Gate hospital to fix a lot of things.

Healed up, went back and only rode trails I was comfortable with.  For about two years.  Eventually the skills came and the boredom crept in and progression occurred at a proper pace I'd say.  So much so that I now love Crabapple Hits and can't wait for the snow to melt.  There is a safe way to play this game, it just comes down to suppressing that feral need to ride as well as the pros we so commonly see here.

As a side note, I am very vocal with all my roadie friends that they are fucking nuts to be strapping 10-20 pounds on their crotch and going to war with inattentive drivers.  I'll take WBP over that risk any day.


+3 Cam McRae Allen Lloyd Mammal

Mountain biking is a privilege. So is owning a car.

Both have consequences if you are not very careful. Both have risks. We weigh the risk with the joy of the luxury of such endeavours. The only difference is that my risk taking on my bike will only injure me not others. I do not take the privilege for granted.

Mountain biking promotes cardio fitness and possibly a closer connection to nature. I have broken bones from this sport and I apologize if my callous actions  that may have cost taxpayers money to patch me up. I'm quite certain the benefits of a healthy life style out weigh the cost to the community.

Mountain biking involves risk, people will get injured. All sports have a level of risk. I believe it's far more important to talk about the benefits of cycling. 

BTW those super old school trails with rocky gnar and wooden stunts are ridden slow. I feel much more fear when going Mach speed on flow trails. I prefer to crash at 5 kph verses 30 kph.


+1 Cam McRae

Looking forward to the stories.  Something I have always wondered about is what role attention plays in crashes and how we can maintain concentration while riding.  My last 2 big crashes came on crazy easy trails when I tuned out for a moment and just completely ate sh*t.  

After turning 40 I started to calm down my riding, then I moved west (to Montana) and started riding bike parks.  I didn't realize how much I missed riding things that I didn't think I could ride.  Last summer I rode some lines that scared the hell out of me, but the rush afterwards is addictive.  For the past month I have wanted to hit the same feature, but the trails have been covered in snow.  The thought of spending the next 3-5 months thinking about that dam feature is a major bummer and I can't wait till spring comes and I can finally ride it.



I did the same thing. I didn't calm down too much. But I did calm down. I had an accident in Angel Fire bike park in New Mexico, and had an ear they had to sew back on after my helmet came off. I just slowed down and hit slightly smaller jumps and drops. But I'm not as resilient as I used to be. I'm 39, maybe when I turn 40, I'll be smarter ;-)

However, the thought of recovery time puts a damper on my adrenaline pumping ego. I hope you keep banging out jumps and drops until you can't anymore for a long time! Have fun pushing yourselves everyone! 

P.S. Great articulated story wasn't it? Well written. Exciting to read (minus the injury part).


+3 AJ Barlas chachmonkey goose8

On your first point... I also feel that attention or focus plays a significant role. All of my worst crashes were on the most basic sections of trails, JRA, and never on sketchy moves with the big pucker factors. This actually gives me great comfort, and whether there is truth to it or not, it gives me the confidence to continue to progress and try things that I'm not sure about.


+1 Cam McRae

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+1 Cam McRae

I don't like watching bike crash videos before I go riding. It freaks me out.


+1 Cam McRae

You’re not alone!



I struggle with this a lot. Mountain biking is probably the funnest thing I ever done. However, I still like rock climbing better, and put way more energy into it. If I hurt myself mountain biking, I won't be able to climb, which would be super hard. But mtb is so fun!

The contrast between climbing injuries and mountain biking injuries is kind of crazy too. Mountain bikers seem to break bones, get concussions, etc. I've had friends die in the mountains almost every year.

The other thing I'm curious about is how often people get hurt on techy jank vs flow trails.



Through repition of danger we grow accostomed to it -29 K’an I Ching 😬


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