The club ride was going well. We had driven to the upper parking lot of Mt. Falcon, and headed out on the trail loops which criss-cross the top of the mountain, and eventually we ended up at Pricess Annes's Overlook.
The overlook was named in honor of England's Princess Anne, who visited Colorado, and toured Mount Falcon, years ago (I thin it was sometime in the 1950s). It affords views of the Denver area, to the east of Mt. Falcon, with a precipitous drop directly below.
As is often the case, storms were brewing over the valley, in the late summer afternoon, and we all sat and watched the storm clouds pile up. I was a little nervous about the weather, since I was the ride leader. I always felt responsible for the safety of the riders, when I was in charge, and I didn't want to have anyone get hurt.
My hair was still long at the time, and I had it pulled into a ponytail, as was my custom. As we sat, watching the weather develop, and discussing the possibility of getting wet, I suddenly felt an odd sensation.
My ponytail began to spread apart, and individual hairs started to float free.
"Dammit!" I thought, remembering the time I had gotten knocked off my bike by lightning, on Kenosha Pass. "We're about to get struck!"
"Everybody on your bikes!" I shouted. "Let's go! Now! Now!"
People began to scramble off the rock, and get on their bikes. This group had ridden with me, before, and knew that something bad was going down, if I was that adamant.
I waited until everyone was on their bikes, and heading away from the overlook, then I took off, myself. Dave was just in front of me, and I was telling him to get a move on, when the bolt hit the rock...right where we had been sitting.
Man...lightning just seems to follow me around!