Travel Reference
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The guard is split into two groups: fast and slow. The faster men stay
close to me, carrying just their machineguns and a pack of provisions
and emergency medical equipment; the others bring up the rear with
the heavy camping gear.
Unbeknown to me, Nick the cameraman and Greg Quail, believ-
ing that I may not be able to survive the Darién and also fearing that
any delay here will derail the rest of the run, hired a helicopter and gave
the pilot instructions to collect me and Juan today—after just one day.
I believe they wanted some dramatic footage for the documentary they
are making. When the helicopter arrived, I was furious. I sent it away.
Then, Juan fell ill—a combination of stress, excitement, fatigue
from tramping through the knee-deep mud, heat, and not eating or
drinking well or enough. He was fainting and vomiting. He told me
he wanted to quit; he wanted the helicopter back. I told him no: there
are a whole lot of people all over the world counting on me to finish
this run, and I was not about to let him destroy my dream just because
he'd failed to prepare for this challenge. I sent him ahead upriver, in
a dugout canoe with a couple of guards, to the village called Canaan
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