It was a spectacular day in the Cienega Preserve and we had completed, earlier than expected, the site visits we had chosen for the day.
On the way back to the vehicle we all agreed “the area over there” we had not ever investigated sure looked inviting.
So off we go to explore an unknown area – unknown to us, at least.
The area, a narrow strip of land, was at the base of 50-60 foot high palisades. Cienega Creek was between this strip of land and us. We crossed the dry Creek bed to the other side.
We walked this little strip looking for artifacts. Nothing.
A very sandy rivulet ran through the strip at the base of the Palisades. We were walking in this rivulet on our way out to the main Creek. CB was to my left and slightly behind me but I saw him go stumbling by me. He landed face down arms extended.
He said he was ok, but he was holding his right wrist.
I checked it and he winced.
“It is broken’ I said.
“No, just sprained,” he responded firmly.
We got back to the vehicle and wrapped his wrist with an ace bandage he had in the trunk.
“I’ll drive,” offered the other crewmembers - all women!
“Nope! I am fine.” he retorted.
He had trouble turning the key to start the vehicle.
The offer to drive was extended again and offer denied again.
He drove one handed the 20+ miles to our early morning meeting spot.
Later he called me and said the wrist was indeed broken!
As one crew member summed it up, “He still insisted on driving out of there with only one arm and in great pain. Wouldn't trust us women to drive!”