Deb and I are not yet of retirement age, but we’re getting close. Like a lot of others, both young and not-so-young, we know we could use a bit more exercise. So, before we left on our June outing to our favorite campground, we decided that bicycling would be a great, fun way to get around the campground and burn those extra calories.

We typically come in and set up on the Friday before Father’s Day weekend and stay for eight nights and that’s just what we did this year. Come Saturday morning, we were off to town to buy a couple of bikes and feeling kind of righteous about it! Yeah, I know, that’s a 60’s term, but then I’m a 60’s guy. Anyway, we settled on a couple of mountain bikes (21 speeds!!!), bought some retro (think wider) seats and helmets (hmmmm) and brought ’em home.

I spent a while checking and adjusting tire pressures and, after reading the owner’s manual – oh, and whoever heard of an owner’s manual for a BICYCLE being a half-inch thick? Oh right, it’s got sections in five different languages! – adjusting the brakes a bit. Saturday afternoon we went for a ride or two around the campground roads – gravel and pretty good except for a couple of steep hills. Naturally, I just had to try getting up the steepest of the hills. I mean, with 21 speeds, how could I not? I made it all right but, not having biked in many (we won’t discuss just how many…) years, the ol’ quads really burned.

Later Saturday evening, after dinner, we decided to burn off a few more calories. Off we went and were taking our time and enjoying the evening just before dark. And then…Deb decided she ought to be able to make that hill too! And she did, with me a ways behind her. We got to the top and onto level ground – me still several yards back – when Deb slowed down, put her foot down and seemed to slowly fall over! Thoughts flashed through my mind having to do with not being as young as we once were, the unaccustomed stress of climbing a steep hill on a new bike and HEART ATTACK!

I rode up beside Deb, jumped off my bike and went to see if she was all right. She got up, complaining that she thought she’d sprained her ankle. Phew! MUCH better than a heart attack! Apparently, she’d stopped to catch her breath and wait for me, put her foot down (probably on a stone), turned her ankle and lost her balance. Her ankle hurt, but she said she was fine, got on her bike and rode a fair distance back to our camp site.

I helped Deb into our travel trailer, sat her down on the couch and removed her sneaker and sock to check out the ankle. Sure enough it was swollen and it was sore. She said she’d put it up and it would be fine in the morning. NOT! Fifteen or twenty minutes later we took another look. Her ankle was swollen much worse and hurt even more. Off to the emergency room with us.

To make a long story at least a bit shorter, we finally got back to the campground at about midnight. Here’s a picture of Deb the next day. Great hot-pink cast. Not-so-great broken ankle! I asked her if she wanted to pack it in and just go home. She said “No, I can sit and put my foot up here as well as at home.” And she did. Comfy chair, cool beverage, good book, Tylenol with codeine – what could be better?

So, for the rest of the week I rode alone. And tried to keep Deb as comfortable as possible. She’s a trooper and it wasn’t an altogether bad week, but by now the cast and gimping around on crutches is getting VERY old. Ask her. She’ll tell you! We hear that those cool three-wheel bikes are really a trip!