Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
about five hours, and in the meantime Juan was going to be bringing
me litres and litres of water on a motor scooter we had acquired and
mounted on the back of a Winnebago. Time passed—one hour, two
hours, three and four hours—but no Juan. In the heat, which was over
40 degrees Celsius, I became dehydrated, I had no energy, and I was
feeling woozy in the head and nauseous. What I later learned was that
Juan had become disoriented in the uncharted desert and was riding
in circles searching for me in vain. I refused to stop running; anyway,
there was no shade. I was staggering and weaving crazily over the sand
and mineral rocks that reflected the sun's heat back up at me. I tried
too hard and wiped myself out.
To take my mind off my plight, I pictured myself standing at the
South Pole beside the Red Cross flag that I had just plunged into the
ice. A friend recently reminded me that the waves are still rolling onto
Coogee Beach and will be waiting for me when I return, so I thought of
taking Brooke and Dillon for a surf and then us all devouring mango
smoothies at our favourite cafe.
Nearing lunchtime, I reached the highway, and there were
Bernie, Katie, Gustavo and the new film guy, Ming d'Arcy, waiting
for me. (Ming is a vastly experienced Sydney-based cinematographer
and cameraman who specialises in shooting adventure documenta-
ries. Apart from that he is a great guy who mucks in, doing anything
required of him.) Juan was still lost. Then more despair when we con-
sulted the map and discovered that, contrary to our planning, we had
not made up any distance by my nearly killing myself in the desert.
After lunch I ran off, the others following and hoping Juan would
catch up. After three hours he arrived on his scooter, sunburned and
on the point of collapse.
Bernie and I had a talk and decided that there was still a chance
to claw back some distance if I left the highway and ran in the desert
again. It was the last thing I felt like doing, but if I can possibly run to
Ushuaia, catch that flight from Punta Arenas on the 29th and avoid
having to backtrack, I'm prepared to take risks to do it. To reach the
desert meant that I had to clamber down the side of a 400-metre cliff
face over loose rocks and thorn bushes, battle through the bush at the
bottom of the ravine and then climb 500 metres up a cliff onto the
desert plateau on top of the mountain. Unfortunately the plateau was
scored by ravines, so I had to do that three times.
