Ed, Carl, Randrew, and I were about 50 miles into what was likely to be about 150 or so on a cold, but gradually warming glorious day. I had led for the first 45 miles going from my home to a very nice area in NW Ga. I knew the roads very well, as Jackie and I ride our bicycles on these same roads. In fact, we had ridden 50 there earlier in the week.
I pulled over to hand off to Ed from that point on. "Great roads ahead.....Go to the end of this road, turn left, and go to the end of that road, left again, etc, etc.....it's about 22 miles ahead to the gas station. Wait for me there. Beware of alligator paving, undulating terrain, etc, etc....."
Ed and Randrew took off, while Carl and I followed at a substantially slower pace. All three of them are much better riders than I am, and I wasn't comfortable riding above my meager skill set. Carl decided to stay back with me.
Seven miles in, Randrew's standing over the Mona Lisa, and Ed's coming back up the hill from the wrong direction. Carl and I pull up hoping against hope that it's just a little slip......nope. ?
BTW.....Randrew lied to us when he as queried about his condition. "Randrew, ARE YOU OK?" "I'm fine". " ARE YOU SURE?" "I'm fine". He's banged up pretty good. He was wearing "Tommy Bahama" jeans....:ahhh:
This is the second time Jack Jack's had to load up the trailer and perform a rescue on a crashed bike. It happened to me in 2007.
It happens to all of us......ATGATT.