text: “Yo, Shawn! Over here! What took you so long? I’ve been waiting at least twenty minutes” Shawn and I are going biking in the Community Forest. We’re meeting at the gate behind the baseball diamonds where best trail starts. It branches off at several locations before we get down to the creek. “My Mom! She wouldn’t let me leave until I packed a lunch, water, a jacket, and spare socks. Oh, and my first aid kit! Then she had to watch me oil the chain on my bike, and check the tire pressures. Finally, she let me go! I’m sorry man!” “Well, you’re a onesie and Moms get protective when they only have one chick.” “What the heck are you talking about? Onesie? We don’t have any chickens.” “It’s something my Mom said...women with only one chick, meaning kid, get over-protective and try to bubble wrap their chick-kid.” “Well, you’d better not start calling me a chick, or chicken, or anything like that because you’ll regret it!” And he swats me on the shoulder. “Hey! I was just explaining. You’re no chicken! I’d say you’re more of a daredevil. Now, let’s ride!” Shawn takes the lead, as always and I am happy to let him. He’s a better rider than I am, and his bike is well oiled and maintained. I’m sure he parks it in the garage every day when he gets home. Mine leans against the fence in the back yard and I’ve never oiled anything on it. I also have two sisters that take it for a spin once in a while, and rarely put it back where they got it, preferring to just dump it on the gravel driveway right near the door. He’s the only one who rides his bike and it’s like an extension of him. The first hill is steep with a quick turn at the bottom and another sharp dip to get over a short wooden bridge. As long as nobody is standing on the bridge, you can pick up some good speed to whip up the next incline. We are in luck today! Shawn waits at the top of the hill until I catch up. The trail branches here, Rockwood trail to the right - a quick ride by the rock cut with a few twists through the poplar bluff and back out to the ball diamonds. To the left is Briar Creek trail - lots of twists and turns through the spruce and cottonwoods, complete with rocks and roots, a little mud, until you get down to the creek, then it levels out to run the creek edge for half a kilometre or so. “Rock, paper, scissors? Or, how much time do you have?” Shawn asks, as he removes his helmet and wipes his sweaty forehead. I pull my helmet off, too. The sun is hot up here near the top of the gully. “I left a note, said I’d be gone all afternoon. Let’s take the creek trail.” Shawn let’s me take the lead this time. There’s a lot of quick turns and a few small jumps. I pull to a stop by the blue bridge. Shawn is right behind me. I pull a water bottle from my pack. “There’s a nice long drop up ahead with a short lip at the bottom. I brought my cell phone. I want to go down a little ways first and try to get a picture of you catching some air.” “Wait. Jimmy? Could you take a video? That would be so amazing! I could send it to my Dad. I bet he’d be super impressed!” “ I have a full charge, so yah, video it is! Give me a few minutes to find a good spot down there. I’ll give you a shout when I’m ready.” I head down the trail, looking for a good spot to stand. The trail is a little slimy here, and there’s a mud hole that’s slick, but it’s got a good lip that should give Shawn some air. I want to get lower, but not too low or I’ll miss the mud spray and the launch. I find the perfect spot and haul my bike off the trail, pull my gloves off to get a better grip on my phone, then shout, “Let ‘er rip, Shawn!” I start to record as I see him round the jog just above the mud hole. His legs are pumping and he’s gathering speed and he’s yelling at the top of his lungs. I’m squatting down to catch him hitting the mud hole, and bracing against a tree to swivel and catch the second he hits the lip that thrusts him up and into the air. Another swivel and I catch the landing, skidding on the spruce needles that litter the trail, skidding and losing control and Shawn flying in one direction while his bike crashes into a twisted spruce stump. And the word he was yelling finally registers “BEAR!” I hit the ground and spin around to check the trail. There it is, a huge black bear! I’m shaking in my boots but I lift my phone, still recording, and watch the bear amble down the trail towards me. I’m too afraid to make a sound, too afraid to twitch a muscle, praying silently, “Please go away, please go away, please go away.” The bear stops suddenly, sits up on its haunches and sniffs the air, twisting its head first one way, then the other, huffing a bit. It turns suddenly and lumbers off into the bushes. I hear a few branches snap as it heads deeper into the gully, down towards the creek. Immobilized for what seems like an hour, it finally sinks in that it’s gone and I’m safe, we’re safe. “Shawn,” I yell, and pull myself, unsteadily, up to the lip of the mud hole. Shawn’s bike is crumpled against the stump, but Shawn is nowhere to be seen. I slide down over the lip, calling his name, “Shawn! The bear’s gone. Shawn! We’re safe. The bear’s gone. Shawn, where are you?” I hear a groan and notice another sharp drop just to the left of the trail. Running to the edge, I’m afraid to look, but there he is. Shawn looks as crumpled as his bike. His helmet is cracked open and his blond hair looks darker than it should. A shiver runs through me, afraid that he’s dead, but he groans again, and I give myself a shake. He can’t be dead, he’s groaning! “Shawn! Are you okay? Shawn?” I scamper down to where he’s lying against a poplar tree, imbedded in last year’s crumbling leaves. I touch his shoulder and he screeches, trying to pull away. “Shawn, it’s me, Jimmy. Shawn, you’re okay. You’re safe, the bear’s gone.” I grab his shoulder and hold him down. “Let me go, Jimmy. I’m okay, I think. You saw the bear? It was after me! It was going to get me!” “Not at the speed you were going! Man, you were flying! And then you really were flying! You got some serious air there! And I caught it all on video. I caught the bear, too. That beast was huge!” “You caught it all? Can I see?” I pull my phone out of my pocket to show him, as he gingerly pulls himself up to lean against the tree. I’m trying to go to Photos, but I see a little red light in the upper right corner and 10%. The battery is almost dead. I know it won’t play the video, but maybe he can see the picture. “Battery’s almost dead. You can the picture though.” I swing the phone towards him and he gets a glimpse before it dies completely. His face is a little grey, but he’s sitting up. It takes a minute or two, but his colour returns. He pulls his smashed helmet off and looks at it. He runs his fingers gingerly through his hair. There’s no blood on them, just dirt, as he drops his hands into his lap. “Where’s my bike, Jimmy?” I hesitate, “It’s wrapped around a spruce tree, where you landed. You flew this way and the bike went right, and smashed into the tree. You were flying!” “Okay. Okay. We have to get out of here. That bear might come looking for us.” He tries to stand but cries out when he tries to put weight on his left leg, and crumples back to the ground. “Is it just your left leg? Are you hurt anywhere else? Geez, Shawn! How are we going to get out of here of you can’t walk?” I’m trying to check his arms and legs and his head. Tears slowly, quietly leak from his eyes. “I’m scared, Jimmy. Don’t leave me here alone! I know we need help, but, don’t leave me here!” Now he’s full on bawling, and not knowing what else to do, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him close. “I won’t leave you here. Hey, man! I’m not going anywhere without you. We’ll figure something out. Shhh, now.” I grab his backpack and rummage through it. There’s a pack of tissues, which I hand to Shawn. He sniffles and snuffles and blows his nose and slowly the tears stop. I hand him a bottle of water and pull one out of my own pack. I take out a couple of granola bars, too. Shawn doesn’t want one but I chew slowly and consider our situation. I eat the other bar, too. “Shawn, how heavy are you?” He’s small for his age. I see him shivering and look through his backpack again. I pull his jacket out and help him put it on. His left arm isn’t bending too well. “I don’t know what I weigh. Not enough, apparently. Mom’s always telling me to eat more so I’ll grow.” He cracks a wobbly smile. “Okay,” I’m smiling, too, “Okay, so that’s good! I’ve got a plan. The bikes will have to stay down here. I’ll pull them off the trail, maybe hide them a bit in the leaves. We’ll have to leave the backpacks, too, but, I think I can carry you. Sorry, but, you don’t look much bigger than my sister, and I can carry her.” Shawn scowls, “But, I think my leg is broken. And, my arm isn’t working too good. How am I going to hang on?” “Let’s get you on your feet...or at least on up on one foot! Lean on me and the tree, and we’ll see if I can manage to lift you.” I grab his right arm and he slides his way up the tree trunk, using only his right leg to brace himself. I squat down to get his arm up over my shoulder, “Hang on around my neck, Shawn. I’m going to try and piggyback you up to where your bike is.” I reach around to grab his legs and I hitch him up onto my back. Slowly, I make my way around the rocks and trees, and head up the trail. When we get up to Shawn’s bike, I lower him to the ground. He hasn’t said a word, but, I see his face has lost all its colour, and I’m a little scared. “Shawn? How was it? Was it too much? You look like you’re going to pass out!” “Oh, man! My leg hurts so bad. I just need to be still for a bit.” “Just sit here, Shawn. I’ll get our packs and be right back.” I shimmy down to the backpacks and grab them, wondering how I can carry Shawn all the way back up to the ball diamonds. I can handle the weight, but if his leg hurts too much he might pass out and not be able to hold on. My mind goes back to some first aid we took last month and I remember that we should immobilize a break, but, there we had all the bandages and boards we needed. Here I have nothing! Shawn is laying down with his eyes closed when I get back. I notice the tears leaking into his ears, but I pretend not to see. “Shawn, just lay there for a bit. I’m going to hide the bikes. I’m not far away. Don’t be scared if you don’t see me. I’ll be right back.” I grab Shawn’s bike and scurry it up to where mine is. I pull Shawn’s bike over mine, tuck a few branches around the bikes to hopefully camouflage them. That’ll have to do. I slide down to Shawn. He’s sitting up, leaning against the spruce stump that mangled his bike. “I’ve got the bikes off the trail and hidden a bit. Um...we have to immobilize your leg, and I don’t know how we’re going to do that. If we don’t immobilize it, you’ll probably pass out and I won’t be able to carry you out.” “I was thinking about that, too. Jimmy, bring the backpacks over here. Let’s see what we have to work with.” I dump the contents in front of Shawn. First aid kit: Bandaids...too short for anything, but, the Aspirin might help. Shawn takes two with water and a bite of granola bar. There’s one of those cotton slings - that might be useful, too. Snacks: crackers and cheese, an apple...not necessary at this point. Water: always needed, but we’ll only take one bottle. Socks: who packs socks?!? My pack is one of those with a stiff back and I see Shawn’s eyes light up. “Jimmy, do you have your knife?” “Yeah, I’ve got it - never leave home without it. What are you thinking?” He grabs my knife and starts cutting my backpack apart. “The back part of your pack has some kind of reinforcement in it. I could wrap it around my leg. We can use the sling to tie it on.” He hacks away at the back pack and I unroll the sling. It’s not very long but maybe we can tear it in half. I catch sight of the socks and I have an idea. The back of the pack is long enough to cover mid-thigh to mid-calf, and I was right about the sling, it only covers part of the top section. Shawn gets a defeated look on his face and I can see the tears start to gather in his eyes. “I’ve got an idea, Shawn. Give me the knife.” I grab the two pairs of socks and the knife. Cutting the toe end off, I pull on one sock to stretch it open as much as possible. Not too gently, I pull it over his foot and up to the pack board around his calf. Shawn pushes my hands off, and grabs the sock. Pulling and stretching at the same time, easing it up slowly, he gets it up over the board, pulls it up to his knee and that’s as far as it’ll go. I toss the next sock to Shawn and he repeats the process. Soon, we have the other pair in place, too. I throw a bottle of water and the first aid kit in Shawn’s pack, put my knife back in my pocket, and sit down by Shawn. “The Aspirin has kicked in. Do you think you can do this, Jimmy? Do you think you can carry me all the way up?” Shawn asks with a grim look on his face. I take a swig of water and roll my shoulders. I hand the pack to Shawn and stand up, “We’re about to find out. Don’t choke me, and let me know if we have to stop.” We get Shawn up and I squat to load him onto my back. I hitch him up a bit to settle him into position and take the first step; then the second, and the third, and I stop counting. The trail is steep and I’m concentrating on one step at a time, watching not to slip on the spruce needles, watching not to trip on exposed roots, watching not to slide on loose rocks. Slowly, it registers in my brain that Shawn is humming, and the tune, OMG, he’s humming “We Are the Champions!” I start to giggle and I have to stop. I’m laughing out loud as I lower Shawn to the ground. I’m flat on my back, still giggling, breathing deeply. I have no idea what time it is but my stomach rumbles a bit. Shawn hears it and laughs. “We left all the snacks down the hill. You need water?” “Yeah, water. You crack me up! “We are the champions!” You’d better think of something with a faster beat if we’re going to make it out of here before dark.” “Jimmy, you’re doing great. I have faith in you, and we’re already quite a ways up. I think just around that next bend we’ll see the split in the trail. It’s not that far now.” “I think you’re full of shit, Shawn. We’ve got quite a ways to go yet. Do you need more Aspirin? You’d better drink some water, too.” I stand and roll my shoulders. I tuck the water back into the pack. “I’m okay. Are you ready to move on?” “Saddle up, buddy! We’re going home!” And, Shawn is right, just around the next bend, we reach the trail split. I continue on the Rockwood Trail rather than take the dip over the bridge. Head down, one foot in front of the other is all I can focus on. Shawn is still humming but I have no idea what the tune is, it’s got a good beat, though. Suddenly, I hear shouting and Shawn tells me to stop. People are running over from the ball diamond. Shawn shouts out to them. “Help! Can I borrow a phone. We need a ride to the hospital.” I collapse on the grass.