Mark Reynolds of San Jose died while riding in the Sea Otter... (Courtesy of Kris
Vantornhout)








The last time Cecile Maida saw her son-in-law, Mark Reynolds, the conversation ended the same way it always had.

"He always kissed me hello and kissed me goodbye," Maida said. "Always."

An embrace last Tuesday was their last.

Reynolds, a San Jose resident, innovator of bicycle technology and software consultant, died Saturday during a mountain bike race in Monterey. His family said he went limp moments before he crashed during the three-minute race, and tumbled over a bridge and onto an embankment. He died, they believe, from severe neck and head injuries. He was 48.

A lifelong lover of mountain biking and other adrenaline-pumping endeavors such as snowboarding, wakeboarding and piloting airplanes, Reynolds was competing in the Sea Otter Classic competition at Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca.

Even though he was healthy and energetic, the family suspects that Reynolds suffered from some sort of medical issue just before the crash because the area he was riding was "a bridge he could have easily crossed," said Beth Woodworth, his sister-in-law.

His family gathered at their Willow Glen home on Sunday evening. Reynolds' unexpected death devastated his relatives. His wife, Margo Maida, sobbed while family members comforted her. His adult daughter, Kristin, from a prior marriage, also was overwhelmed by tears.

Family members and friends described him as the anchor of the family, a man who inspired them and others, who was perenniallyhappy and "the life of the party." He worked primarily as a software consultant, but his love was mountain biking. His back yard was full of makeshift wooden ramps and jumps that he would use as springboards while toying around.

He'd even jump from the roof of a backyard shed - just for fun.

But beyond the thrill, biking was serious business for Reynolds. He owned Wicked Racin, a mountain bike company that he operated out of his tan bungalow home. He created what is known as a Dualrailleur Guide, a prototype that allows "the rider to shift between two front chain rings," a huge help during downhill treks, according to Mountain Bike Action magazine, which featured his creation in its October 2007 issue.

He recently applied for a U.S. patent for the product.

Friend and fellow rider Jason Fritz said Reynolds customized the prototype specifically for his bike and he hasn't dropped a chain since.

Reynolds also was a consultant for a San Jose-based Web site development company called Domino Insight.

Fritz got the call about his friend on Saturday afternoon. He was riding with friends in Santa Cruz and heard that "something bad happened to Mark."

The first thing he did was call Reynolds' cell phone. A friend answered, said a few words, and then handed the phone to a sheriff's deputy, who said, "Mark's not going to make it."

"I was just in shock," Fritz said.

The mountain biking community was still spinning with the news on Sunday.

Jay Costa rode with Reynolds on Saturday. No one saw exactly what happened, he said, but he, too, suspects a medical problem.

After he fell, Reynolds was taken by helicopter to Natividad Medical Center, where he was pronounced dead. Officials with the race said it was the first death in the event's 17-year history.

The Monterey County coroner's office plans to conduct an autopsy on Monday to determine the cause of death.

"What people were saying was that once he approached this wooden bridge, he started to wobble," Costa said. "The consensus was that he had some kind of mishap or possible heart attack. It definitely wasn't a section of the course that merited a crash."

On Sunday evening, his family was trying to make sense of the 12:30 p.m. accident. Even his cherished Australian Shepherd dog, Shelby Lynn, whose image was the screen-saver for Reynolds' cell phone, looked out of sorts.

The family remembered Reynolds' smile, joyous spirit and favorite catchphrase, "You go, girl!"

Fighting back tears, sister-in-law Woodworth spoke of his ability to inspire: "You didn't think you could do it, but he would make you believe," she said.

Maida recalled how her husband treated her.

"He was magical," she said. "He made me laugh every day. He encouraged me. He held my hand every night in bed. He wanted me to be happy. He made me feel whole."


Contact Joshua Molina at jmolina@mercurynews.com or (408) 275-2002. Bay Area News Group reporter Julia Reynolds contributed to this report.