Feb 22, 2019 4 min read

If there’s such thing as a Girl Scout detective badge, I’ve earned one.

It’s been years since I’ve been a Scout, but my efforts during the past week have proven that I possess excellent skills when it comes to finding someone.

While filming a documentary about the bike trail last August, the crew and I met a couple from Scarborough, England. They’d flown to Washington, D.C., and were cycling from there to Pittsburgh.

I approached them to chat; eventually we filmed a brief interview with them on the trail near Sharpsburg, Md. They were warm and friendly, telling how they found America quite beautiful. The husband commented on the deer they saw along the way, “much larger than the ones we have in England.”

“And they would stop to look at us,” said the wife.

And then they pedaled away. It was only after they were out of sight that I realized I’d forgotten one thing.

I didn’t ask them to sign a consent release, the form producers collect from those who speak on camera. Now I would have to chase after them – although not down the trail.

The search would take me on a frustrating dive into the internet and social media.

I knew their names were Simon and Allison, and I knew they lived across the pond. Finding them wasn’t the problem. The hard part was getting them to know I was looking for them.

Quick searches of Facebook and of LinkedIn (the site for professionals) found each of them immediately. I sent messages, reminding them that we’d met on the trail. Feeling triumphant that I’d located them, I sat back and waited for their replies.

Saturday was a boring drill of signing on and off of the sites, hoping a reply would pop up. I calculated the time difference, trying to guess when they might check their computers, based on their time of day over there.

But, nothing.

Facebook is a handy search tool, but only when the person you want to find actually logs in. Allison’s public postings show her looking elegant in pretty hats and dresses. Problem is, she hadn’t posted anything since 2015 – meaning she doesn’t check in very often. My message could sit there, waiting, for years.

Simon’s LinkedIn page presented the same challenges.

There had to be another way. I noticed that Allison was photographed with a young blonde woman. Her daughter, maybe? Using my detective skills, I searched Facebook pages of those with the last name. When I came to a young blonde woman, I would stop and have a look.

About 50 pages in, I found a young woman who looked like the person I’d seen in Allison’s photo. And there in a recent photo – and this still thrills me – was a photo of Allison. I’d found Allison and Simon’s daughter.

I sent the daughter this message: I met your parents while they were cycling in the U.S. last summer. It’s important that I reach them. Would you please have them email me?

She must have gotten on the phone right then (or maybe walked into the next room to tell them) because within an hour, I received an email from Simon.

He said they enjoyed the rest of their trip, although they were attacked by bugs in Pennsylvania. They liked Pittsburgh. Attached were the signed forms.

“You are quite a good detective,” he wrote.

The couple plan to cycle through the U.S. again in a couple of years. I told them to give a holler, and I’ll join them. After all this, they feel like long-lost friends.

Beth Dolinar can be reached at cootiej@aol.com.