I don’t know what it is, but every single time we go on an adventure, G winds up “saving the day” in some way. She remembers the key thing that everyone else forgets, or rescues someone from disaster, or has the right tool and/or the know-how to fix the car.
So yesterday, on our big 45 mile ride through the Canyon, we passed a family who was consoling a little girl who was crying. It didn’t sound like a “serious” cry to me, more like a “whiney” cry, so we passed on by–or at least Fred and I did.
G, unbeknownst to us, stopped. Fred recognized G wasn’t behind us, and we stopped to wait for her to catch up. I drank water, ate a Cliff bar, and still no G.
Fred and I realized in that moment that we were no longer one racing team, but two: Fred and I were “Team Shithead” and G, “Team Good Samaritan.”
We headed back to find her, but by that time she was headed back to us. Turns out the crying girl had tumbled down the embankment on her bike and might have broken her arm.
Luckily, G still had a lot of med supplies in the panniers from the Half Marathon, and was able to splint and immobilize the little girl’s arm until her parents could get her to the ER. She Band-Aided her knee, too. And all this in the time it took me to drink some water and eat a snack.
It was a gorgeous day on the trail and we had another fun ride. Last year we went the full 64 miles but felt no need to do that this year. Last year we discovered that the last 20 weren’t all that picturesque so we stopped at Slate Run this year and it was the perfect distance.
Here we are:
And here’s a clip of the ride, the crunch of the gravel and Fred asking some kayakers about water-striders in the creek.