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two thousand nineteen, when he saw something that didn't belong there
two thousand nineteen, when he saw something that didn't belong there
A length of carbon fiber rod wrapped in black athletic tape - pressed into the shape of a forearm with a shoelace looped at one end - lay in a drainage ditch twelve miles from the nearest race checkpoint and had been there thirty-six hours; why had the person who built it already been home while that makeshift splint outlasted the search and the emergency? What choice did a twenty-six-year-old runner make on a December ridge in Kern County that left such a trace?
In this episode, we follow the forty-mile sequence of events…
The skinny
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