Any idea what it's like to roll into town after six grueling days of crossing the Atacama desert? Good... damn good!!!
Luckily, the last 50 kilometers into town were downhill, a substantial drop from 4,400 m (14,400 ft) to 1,800 m (5,900 ft); down a perfectly-angled volcano so that braking isn't necessary. If it weren't for this downhill slide, I don't know if I would have made into town until the following day.
The accumulation of several weeks of minimum food and water have taken it's toll. The last six days, were particularly difficult; pushing the heavy touring bike through ankle-deep sand, fighting sandblaster-strength headwinds, drinking 200 mL of water a day, and today, the final punishing 4-hour uphill push over a volcano to make it to pavement.
I can't believe how warm it is, and then realize that its' the first time in over four months to be below 3,200 m (10,000 ft). "Wow, life at low-altitude is pretty nice." I think to myself, and then laugh. I'm still at 6,000 ft... not very low-altitude.
I'm absolutely starving!!! But there are other things that must come first, including immigration. We walk up to the window, exhausted, for the fairly quick entry. It certainly helps that the officer is jammin' hard to Bob Marley.
Then we ask about food... the officer informs us that it is Independence day in Chile and there is food everywhere. Good news, but also the certainty that there won't be much sleep tonight.
I want to eat anything and everything in sight. I know I look a disaster with dirty clothes, severely chapped lips, greasy hair, and sun-cracked skin all over my ears and hands. But, it must be the smell that keeps even the restaurant barkers from talking to us.... never had that happen before.
Driven by hunger, we quickly settle on a place that is large and open-air... that way our stench won't offend people. Dinner? Peruvian-style ceviche, large salad (with ham, cheese, avocado and olives), bread, and two massive pizzas.
Luckily, the last 50 kilometers into town were downhill, a substantial drop from 4,400 m (14,400 ft) to 1,800 m (5,900 ft); down a perfectly-angled volcano so that braking isn't necessary. If it weren't for this downhill slide, I don't know if I would have made into town until the following day.
The accumulation of several weeks of minimum food and water have taken it's toll. The last six days, were particularly difficult; pushing the heavy touring bike through ankle-deep sand, fighting sandblaster-strength headwinds, drinking 200 mL of water a day, and today, the final punishing 4-hour uphill push over a volcano to make it to pavement.
I can't believe how warm it is, and then realize that its' the first time in over four months to be below 3,200 m (10,000 ft). "Wow, life at low-altitude is pretty nice." I think to myself, and then laugh. I'm still at 6,000 ft... not very low-altitude.
I'm absolutely starving!!! But there are other things that must come first, including immigration. We walk up to the window, exhausted, for the fairly quick entry. It certainly helps that the officer is jammin' hard to Bob Marley.
Then we ask about food... the officer informs us that it is Independence day in Chile and there is food everywhere. Good news, but also the certainty that there won't be much sleep tonight.
I want to eat anything and everything in sight. I know I look a disaster with dirty clothes, severely chapped lips, greasy hair, and sun-cracked skin all over my ears and hands. But, it must be the smell that keeps even the restaurant barkers from talking to us.... never had that happen before.
Driven by hunger, we quickly settle on a place that is large and open-air... that way our stench won't offend people. Dinner? Peruvian-style ceviche, large salad (with ham, cheese, avocado and olives), bread, and two massive pizzas.
No comments:
Post a Comment