Relief flooded through me as Ray pulled me into a sweaty hug. We’d made it. Not first place, but not eliminated either.
The monk beside her smiled serenely, hands folded in front of his orange robes, as if the frantic race activity was just another form of life’s constant motion.
As we stepped off the mat to make room for Fletcher and Adrienne, I finally had a moment to look up at the templesurrounding us. The central prang rose like a mountain, its surface a mosaic of tiny fragments that caught the sun in a thousand different ways. After all the frantic activity, the temple’s ancient solidity offered a striking contrast—a reminder that some things endure while others, like our moments of triumph or disappointment, pass quickly.
“It’s beautiful,” Ray murmured, following my gaze upward.
“Worth running for,” I agreed, feeling the connection between us strengthen with each shared experience.
In that moment, with the temple soaring above us and Bangkok’s chaos continuing around us, I felt a profound sense of gratitude—not just for making it to another leg of the race, but for the journey that had brought Ray and me to this point, challenges and all.
The last team to arrive were Tyler and Brandon, the young friends who'd started the race with such enthusiasm and energy. As they stepped onto the mat, both were visibly exhausted but still holding hands in solidarity.
"Tyler and Brandon," Julie announced solemnly, "you are the last team to arrive. I'm sorry to tell you that you have been eliminated from The Big Race."
The two friends looked at each other and nodded, having clearly expected this outcome. Tyler's usual bright energy was subdued but not bitter.
"We gave it everything we had," Brandon said, his voice hoarse from exertion.
"And we're proud of how far we came," Tyler added, managing a smile. "When we started, we just wanted to prove that friendship could be as strong as any romantic partnership."
As they said their goodbyes to the remaining teams, Tyler approached Ray and me. "You guys showed us what twenty-five years of partnership looks like," he said earnestly. "The way youworked together out there, especially these last few legs—that's something to aspire to."
Brandon nodded in agreement. "We may have lost the race, but watching you two find your way back to each other? That was worth the trip."
Their words caught me off guard. These young men, who we'd initially dismissed as naive about relationships, had been observing our journey with more insight than I'd given them credit for.
"Keep being friends," Ray told them. "Real friendship is rarer than people think."
As Tyler and Brandon walked away toward the production vehicles, arms around each other's shoulders, I felt a pang of loss. They'd brought such genuine joy to the race, and their elimination left a hole in our little racing family that couldn't easily be filled.
Chapter 31
Second Nature
Because we were the third team to arrive at 6:14 PM, we left the next morning at 6:14 AM. “Make your way to Tha Tian Pier and find the marked long-tail boat,” I read from the clue, squinting against the glare of the sun. “Teams must participate in a traditional delivery route along Bangkok’s ancient waterways.”
Ray was already flagging down a tuk-tuk. “Let’s go!”
The driver seemed to understand “Tha Tian Pier” and sped off through Bangkok’s congested streets, weaving between cars and motorbikes with alarming precision. I gripped the metal bar in front of me as we narrowly missed a food cart, and Cody nearly lost his grip on the front rail.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at a bustling pier along the Chao Phraya River, the same one we had visited the day before. Only this time, we were looking for a long-tail boat rather than the ferry.
The water stretched before us, brown and turbid, with a dizzying array of vessels crisscrossing its surface—sleek tourist boats, rustic wooden craft laden with goods, and speeding long-tail boats with their distinctive propellers mounted on long shafts.
“There!” Ray pointed to a long-tail boat with the distinctive red and blue race marker. A race official stood next to it, clipboard in hand, who handed me the next direction card.
We jogged over, and the official handed us each a wildlife identification chart and a yellow bandana. “This is a Second-Nature challenge,” she explained. “Bangkok’s canal system has been the city’s lifeblood for centuries, supporting a rich ecosystem despite urban development. Today, you’ll navigate the traditional delivery route while interacting with the natural environment.”
She gestured to the boat, where a weathered Thai man with deeply tanned skin and a wide straw hat stood waiting. “This is Khun Chai. He will be your guide through the klongs. You must deliver the correct produce to five different locations marked on this map.” She handed us a water-stained paper with Thai script and crude drawings of different stops.
“But,” she continued, “at each location, you must also correctly identify a specific plant or animal from the canal ecosystem before you can receive your delivery token. Furthermore, Khun Chai will only assist with navigation—you must propel the boat yourselves through certain sections using traditional paddle methods when the engine cannot be used.”
As the official explained, I noticed the sorority sisters, Gemini and Blaine, arriving at the pier. They looked exhausted but determined as they received their instructions at another boat.
“Good luck, guys,” Cody said, as he helped adjust the cameras on our heads. “I’ll see you at the other end.”
“I’m glad you didn’t fall out of the tuk-tuk,” I said, and he laughed.
