Reign of the Sticky Mud

As we have every day for the last 6 days, we have sustenance before we head out. Last night has been a rough night. Kellie/Blaster and I have been driving the old porcelain bus. Before we left the states, the international doctor had given us a 3-day 500Mg Z-pack (Arithromycin). The instructions were, if you get food poisoning, start taking them immediately. We thought the odds that both Blaster and I got sick were pretty low, so we only took one box. Blaster is markedly worse than I, so he starts them. However in the days to come, it's Kellie that will see the worst brunt of this.


It's still bloody hot out, and when we see this shade tree mid morning, it seems like a nice enough place for a break. While we haven't past a handful of vehicles all day, imagine our surprise when all the locals descend on us. I guess to them, we are much like a bacteria growing in a petri dish. They watch us with intent interest. I sigh that although Blaster made a gallant effort to learn Spanish, level 1 Rosetta stone is not quite "conversational" level yet. Such a shame, because I am sure they would certainly add some color to out trips.




We were warned twice by Court not to take this road leaving town if it had been raining. But you know that wasn't good enough for us. The 20 miles hardpack gravel gives way to this sticky mud only 2 miles from the tarmac. Just 2 miles.


As if we didn't get schooled enough in 2012 on sticky mud, we know the 2 miles like this is going to end up poorly. If it ends at all.


Why is it that you follow a trail with the thought "I will just turn around if it gets too bad" philosophy? Then when you do turn around, it only proves to be 2X harder than when you went in?


As long as the front tire is tracking, who cares where the butt of the bike is...


We circle back to this "improved" road. There must have been at least a dozen of these arroyos. Notice the villager collecting water in a yellow bucket?