The time since the last post, El Agua es Vida, has been yet another tale of woe. I’m not going to regale it at length once more. It’s too much for me and more than likely, for you.
In Summary; Items to fail over a 3 day period:-
Tyre – One with sidewall ripped, patched at roadside. Second is damaged but serviceable.
Cooking stove – unable to fix whilst camping on sand. Subsequently repaired.
Cycle computer – fixed at roadside after some fiddling
The weather – It rained a lot, the wind came back and it was freezing cold at times.
My head – Twice, on consecutive days. Repair is an ongoing process.
The Picture Story
I arrived into Malargue later that evening exhausted physically and mentally. It had been the second longest day of the entire trip. The thought of getting somewhere dry and warm over riding all other considerations.
Am I pushing my limits?
Undoubtedly. This isn’t a cake walk. I never thought it would be but I had no idea how hard I would find it. The limits are currently mental not physical. My brain can’t keep up with what my body can now do.
How do I keep going?
Just spin the pedals and one day I will arrive at my destination of choice. So very true and the maxim I use on a daily basis. Everything else is just noise, a distraction from the simplicity of this endeavour. So simple to write, so very difficult to put into practice.
Do I continue to step over my line, to break my ceiling and rebuild the pieces each time?
So far the answer is yes, although it’s not a nice place to live in, the benefits too far in the future to appreciate in the now.
Common wisdom would say ‘If you have to ask then you wouldn’t understand the answer’. There is, I feel some truth to that.
I thought I would enjoy this trip, parts of it I certainly have. However I guess I was naïve to think that cycling the length of the Americas would, overall, be a fun thing to do. Cycling across Europe in the summer was for the most part, fun. That was a (very nice) holiday compared to this.
This is a challenge, a very big one. One I set for myself without understanding what I was letting myself in for. I did it partly for that reason. I choose this path so I need to be happy with overcoming the challenges in my way and take satisfaction from that. The fun days may come, but I can’t just give it all up when stuff gets really hard but I overcome it.
I said I cracked at the top of the pass (in the last photo), well I did but I still got myself to my destination as planned, with a temporary patch on the front tyre and a heavy heart.
I guess to give up today and come home is self pity I’m feeling, not defeat. When I need to get rescued and hitch a lift to the next place of safety because I’ve misjudged something or damaged something critical then I need to reassess.
But I’m not there yet.
Tomorrow I go again. A new (crap) tyre on the bike, stove functioning again, head improved (partly thanks to a haircut), clean clothes and a clean, rested body.
How many more times can I reset and go again? I don’t have an answer.
My choices, not fate, will decide that.