I came upon a father and son standing in the trail.   Son had a bloodied knee and was holding his wrist.  Father was assessing and trying to encourage son to push on so they could complete the ride they had planned.

Son looked woozy.

“You hit your head?”


“If you continue on your planned ride, you’ll be out here another two hours, at least.”

“Really?”  Father disagreed.  They had not ridden Sedona before, but thought that map miles equaled a two hour ride or so, not considering trail conditions/terrain.

“He’ll know as soon as he tries to grip the bars and if not then, after a few hundred feet, he’ll know if he can keep riding.  You see that parking lot down there?  I suggest you make way there and see if someone might take you back to your car while your son waits with the bikes.”

“Thanks for stopping,” says Dad.

“You’re welcome.”

Off I went.  I don’t know what they decided to do.

independent writer

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