Bruised ribs from a bike crash did not qualify Greg for our toughest man title. I had the trump card: a permanently broken rib, called a non-union fracture in the orthopedic jargon, from a surfing crash. It was no contest.
A tricky crux, a surprise pop, a very fast 15-foot descent. I was delighted to find myself dangling from my beloved little blue Metolius. But when doing a quick body inventory, I noted that my left foot was attempting an inward 180. Suddenly, explosively, it hurt like hell. My partner Peter quickly lowered me, winced, and suggested we call an ambulance.