Last Saturday, Fernando and I "were" going to take a nice, long bike ride. We did our normal ride up into the mountains and "were" going to go riding back as far as we could go, or until we got hungry. However, after about an hour, *this* happened.
The so-called nasty spill, according to Amanda (It wasn't so bad)
I ended up with a nasty raspberry on my left shoulder and a skin tear in a very private place (let's just say Fern and I are a lot closer now ), which effectively ended the bike trip for that day. A quick call to our local American doctor (thank you, Dr. Tom) and I knew I wasn't going to die and that I didn't need stitches (just some medical tape).
At least it wasn't down this hill. (Yes, that is down maybe 3 or 4 hundred feet. It really looks steeper than it is.)
It is one week later, and I am almost back to a hundred percent. Tomorrow, Fernando and I are going to try and go biking. Give you one guess where we are going...
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