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Cycling the PanAmerican Highway.
This is a newsletter from Family on Bikes. The family of four is currently cycling the Pan American Highway from Alaska to Argentina as the 11-year-old twin boys attempt to break the world record as the youngest cyclists to bike the entire Pan Am. See a slide show of cycling the Colombian Andes here.
November 2, 2009
It was a race against time. With each day, each kilometer, each pedal stroke, the clock was ticking. Tick, tock, tick, tock...
When I last wrote from Manizales, Colombia, we had managed to get Davy's toe operated on and felt our struggles with ingrown toenails were over. If only we had known just how wrong we were. A few days before leaving Manizales - after nearly a month in the village - Davy told me his other toe was ingrown again. Yes - the one that had been removed in Panama. Cripes!
We spent a couple of days trying to figure out what to do. Do we stay in Manizales for three more weeks? Or find another village in Colombia? Or push on to Ecuador? In the end, Paul Murtha offered us the use their home in Pimampiro, Ecuador while they were in the USA for a few months. The race was on.
All went well for the first few days. We made decent mileage and had no unforeseen detours or detentions. Each night I managed to round up hot water from the hotel staff or a nearby restaurant to soak Davy's toe with epsom salts . Each morning I bandaged up the toe with antibiotic ointment knowing very well it was only a matter of time before infection set in. How long could we keep it at bay?
We were feeling good as we pulled into Popayàn, knowing we only had another 400 km to go. 400 km of soaking and bandaging and praying the microbes would hold off a few more days. But shortly thereafter, our plan began to unravel.
We awoke to pouring rain in Rosas and delayed our departure until it stopped. It wouldn't be a hard day anyway, so a 10:00 departure would be fine. But then came the dreaded words - "I don't feel good." Davy made a nose dive back into bed, which led to our first unexpected day off. Tick, tock, tick, tock...
By the next morning, the rain had stopped and Davy was better, so we pushed on. That night in Estrecho, however, was a nightmare. I awoke in the middle of the night with the most intense back pain I've experienced in years. I hurt bad. Agony. I slilthered out of bed onto the floor and crawled on my belly to the drybag with our sleeping mats. Somehow - I'm really not even sure how - I got the mats out and under me, where I slept the remainder of the night.
But then morning came, and we faced a dilemma. Push on? Or wait it out? Tick, tock, tick, tock...
John and the boys helped me pack my bike and we set out. I could pedal relatively pain free, but getting on the bike was torture. Getting off was even worse. I hobbled into restaurants like some crippled, bent over old woman. My walk was one of those crooked Hunchback-of-Notre-Dame shuffles. But each kilometer closer to Ecuador was one kilometer closer to Davy's surgery.
By the time we pulled into Remolino, I was hurting. Each pedal stroke sent bolts of pain radiating throughout my lower back. We knew decision time had come. I had pedaled each and every one of the 10,000 miles we had traveled up to that day, but I couldn't go on.
The next day I loaded my bike and all our gear into a pickup truck and headed up to Pasto the easy way. The boys would leave the next day to climb the 7000 feet to the city. We had no idea what our plans were beyond that, but knew we somehow - by hook or by crook - had to get to Pimampiro.
John and the boys took two days to do the climb, and straggled into our friends' house exhausted. "My legs are jelly," John told me. "There is no way I can push on tomorrow." But that clock was ticking. Hot water, epsom salts, and antibiotic ointment can only go so far.
By then my back had recovered enough that I could ride, so we set out. John and the boys were exhausted, I wasn't quite sure my back would hold - but we packed up and headed out anyway. Only 150 km to go - how bad can it be?
Somehow fate intervened and we ended up with one more night in Pasto, and we made a quick trip to a doctor to check out Davy's toe. Although the doc assured us all was well and we could make it to Pimampiro before having the surgery done, Eduardo's story scared the living bejeezus outta me. "A mosquito bite on my ankle got infected a few years ago," Eduardo told me on our way back to our bikes after the visit to the hospital. "I didn't think anything of it, but all of a sudden it turned into gangrene. They thought they would have to amputate my leg at the hip, but in the end they saved it after 16 surgeries." Holy smokes!
The next day we managed to make it out to a small village where the cousin of our host in Pasto lives. But the following morning, the dreaded words came again. "I don't feel good." Tick, tock, tick, tock...
Sometimes you've had enough. Sometimes you've reached the end of your rope and can fight no longer. There comes a point when you realize you've given it a valient effort and you've fought a good fight, but the forces of nature are simply too much. We reached that point that morning in Pilcuan. We had given it our all. We had tried to make it to Pimampiro, but realized we just couldn't do it.
Davy and I left our bikes in Pilcuan and jumped on a bus. Daryl and John continued on by bike. At some point, when Davy's toes are better and we aren't racing against Mother Nature, we'll go back and retrieve the bikes. It'll be an easy ride with no weight, so we'll be able to relax and enjoy it.
In the end, I guess I can say we won the battle against the clock. Davy had his surgery yesterday and his toes are finally healing. We are hopeful this will be the end of his troubles, but only time will tell.
And now? We are enjoying our stay in this little town of Pimampiro. Paul and Sue, who run a small non-profit organization called Mountains of Hope, are truly amazing people and we are thrilled that we had the opportunity to hang out with them for a couple of days anyway. I have volunteered to help with a few projects at the girls' school Sue teaches at, so will keep plenty busy these next few weeks. John has been working frantically to overcome a nasty virus that infected every technological gadget we have. And the kids are making pancakes, pancakes, and more pancakes.
Life is good once again!
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Read our other newsletters here:
Read y for takeoff: June 6, 2008
Dalton Highway in Alaska: June 28, 2008
Alaska Highway: August 3, 2008
Crossi ng into mainland USA: September 10, 2008
In Montana, Wyoming, and Utah: October 17, 2008
Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico: November 19, 2008
No rthern Mexico: January 25, 2009
Yucatan Peninsula: March 14, 2009
Belize, Guatemala, & Honduras: April 15, 2009
Ni caragua & Costa Rica: June 25, 2009
Costa Rica & Panama: July 21, 2009
Made it to South America: August 16, 2009
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