This is a story that took place in August 2012, on Vermont’s Long Trail, close to its Northern terminus.
It’s a story that made me feature in the news, albeit local one, and which I tell and retell, share and reshare.
And which is jokingly known as “The Bear Story” in my family – that’s even if no bear is to be found in it.
What follows is a write up of the experience that was done shortly after, in the basement of my then mother-in-law’s house in Laval, Québec, as I waited for my insurance company to make arrangements for me to fly back to Spain, where surgery would undoubtedly cost them less. It was originally published on my Facebook wall as a way of describing what had happened to my English-speaking friends. Almost ten years later the events, I have edited the account for style and added some photos. I’ve also added a postcript providing some context on what happened in the following months, as well as what the whole thing ended up meaning to me.
You can read all this in the following links:
As a teaser, take a look at the news piece published in the Newport Daily Express: