But first, some background information. Our original plan had been to go to Gettysburg after leaving Ohio. It was a loose plan - we didn’t actually have any reservations, which was probably just as well because on our way in, we stopped at Hueston Woods State Park, near the Indiana/Ohio border. We had our awning out when a storm came through during the night. The wind grabbed the arm of our awning and twisted it. We would need to get it repaired before we could use the awning. The nearest dealer was in North Canton and the part had to be ordered. Once the part was in, they scheduled the repair for Tuesday, leaving us with no time for Gettysburg or Kelly’s Island, which was Plan B. Our best plan of action was a campground in Mogadore - near Canton.
It should also be noted that while we were visiting with family and friends, Mark had developed a habit of walking a few miles in the morning and then cycling for 15 or 20 miles in the evening.
So back to the adventure. We settled in to our campsite in Mogadore. We went for a walk around the lake - far enough for me to meet my 10,000 step goal then we came back and cooked dinner. While we were eating Mark was thinking of getting in the rest of his exercise.
“What time is it?”, he asked.
“7:38”, I answered.
“What time does the sun go down?”
“Probably around 8:30”
“I’m going to get in a cycle ride before the sun goes down.”
“OK. While you do that, I’ll tidy up.”
He hopped on his bike and away he went.
I wasn't i that big a hurry to tidy up. I looked at Facebook. I caught up with Trivia and Words. I checked my email. Then I figured I’d wasted enough time and he’d be back and the dishes would still be sitting on the picnic table.
I took them inside, washed them, dried them, and put them away. By the time I finished up, it was nearly 8:30. Mark would be back any minute.
By the time 9 PM rolled around it was fairly dark. No Mark. I thought I’d give him a call and see where he was. I don’t know where he was, but his phone was on the counter. I was concerned.
By 9:30 I had gone from being concerned into full out panic mode. He was out on a bike with no light, with no helmet, no phone, and most likely no ID. I walked around the campground although I had no idea how that might help. I thought about getting in the car to go look for him, but I had no idea which way he had gone.
By 9:45 panic got the best of me and I phoned the Mogadore police. Did I want to file a missing persons report?
“I don’t think he’s run away from home or been kidnapped. But I am beside myself with worry.”
“If it makes you feel better, there’s been no report of any accidents involving a bicycle.”
It did make me feel a bit better, but then it occurred to their dispatcher that I was actually outside the city limits and therefore within the jurisdiction of the Portage County Sheriff. She patched me through.
We went through what I assume are the usual questions - What is he wearing? How old is he? What kind of bike is it? They suddenly stopped me mid-answer and told me someone would be around to talk to me. Now I was really panicked. Clearly there was something they wanted to tell me in person. Something they couldn’t say on the phone. That couldn’t be good.
While I was waiting, I kept calling his phone hoping that it would alert his Fitbit and maybe the paramedic who was most certainly working on him would see it and phone me. Then I stopped and asked God to bring him back to me. That seemed to work.
A little after 10 there was a commotion outside. It was Mark. Covered in scratches, cuts and cockleburs and panicked because he knew I would be worried about him. He’d been lost. The sun went down and he couldn’t find his way back in the dark. He'd gone cycling on the footpath around the lake which goes through the woods. It gets dark in the woods before it gets dark in the fields. That's how he came to be cut and scratched and covered in cockleburs. He’d used the techniques he’d learned as a child to find his way back to a road and waited at an intersection to ask directions. By that time he wasn’t far away.
I was sooo happy to see him. (He was pretty happy to see me, too!) I told him the police were coming and that I should probably alert them that he was okay. They were very nice - even offered to send an ambulance when I said he’d come back a bit bloody, but that wasn’t necessary - all surface scratches.
The next day it took the two of us over an hour to pick the cockleburs out of his shirt. Not all of them were cooperative. The shirt may be ruined. I won’t know until it goes through the laundry. And I don’t care. I don’t think Mark cares, either.
The next day after the RV was fixed we got a cycling helmet and a light for the bike. If they’d had a holder for the iPhone 6, we’d have got that, too.
I guess I need to get comfortable riding my bike so that the next time he gets lost, I can get lost with him.
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