Today started with 4 flats, patching flats has become a part of our daily routine and has given us the gift of patience. There is a prickly bush here that is murder even for the most impenetrable Schwalbe tires. Our crew has a current total of 14 flats. Mountains, mountains, and more mountains are on the horizon for us this afternoon.
My shirt is drenched in sweat and the only thing that keeps me going is regulating my breath and looking ahead at the growing horizon. Luckily the reward for all the hard work pedaling up the mountains is you get to fly down them. The feeling of rounding the corners, the importance of your body weight in relation to your bike, and anticipating what's around the next corner is exhilarating.
We couldn't decide what to cook for dinner and the delirium of our hunger led us to think that cooking everything left in our bike bags was a great idea. The contents of our creation included Annie's ravioli, chicken noodle soup, sardines, wild rice, cheese powder, and quinoa noodles; we then fried up some veggies in pig fat and mixed everything together in a big pot. As disgusting as it sounds it was actually kind of good, well...except for the one piece of leftover pizza that was also thrown into the pot that I was the unlucky recipient of... I dry heaved, tried my best to focus on the other flavors and swallowed the spoonful back, I lost my appetite for the rest of the night.
We heard rumor that the coming days were nothing but flat stretches of vast barren land so we came up with a crazy plan to try our luck at hitch-hiking. I can't imagine many places in the planet that you can find a truck to pick up 5 people and their 5 bikes but somehow, it worked! A dump truck looking vehicle pulled over and we piled in, bikes and all. We caught a ride for about 200km getting us much closer to Cienfuegos. What was supposed to be a 4hr drive turned into a 7hr drive. We had a 3hr wait at the gas station, the station ran out of fuel so along with the 30ish other cars we waited for the pumps to be filled.
When we piled back in the truck it started to rain. We were cold, wet, and slightly drunk off of the bottle of rum we shared and we watched the moon peek in and out of the rain clouds. We'd burst into random fits of laughter throughout the ride, I had Lucero and Andrew tucked into my sleeping bag and Spoch on my left curled into the fetal position, when the truck pulled over the final time I didn't want the ride to end.
The coming days arrived with endless sugar cane fields, wind, and worst of all, traffic; I put on my headphones and watched it all fade away. Pedal, pedal, pedal, we took turns being in the lead or close behind drafting. I focused on the hub of the bike ahead of me and let my mind wander; I thought about home, about the next bike tour, about dinner.
Today we ran into a French couple bike touring with their two kids, a 3yr old and a 5yr old. They have been riding for two years through Europe, the United States, Central America, and now Cuba. I'm completely inspired and I feel I've witnessed a kind of "settling down" that could work for me :P
Spoch's bike broke on the way out of Cienfuegos, the back rack came loose and swung into the spokes. Luckily it's not uncommon for someone to lend a helping hand here; we ended up with a repaired bike, an invite for a meal, and a place to sleep. The hospitality didn't end there, we had amazing hot bucket showers, watched baseball on the T.V., and found Aloe Vera to slather on my sun burnt skin.
Steemians! where should I bike tour next?!
