Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
In addition to thinking of the distance, I started to become concerned about how
late in the day it was and my dwindling food supplies. These three concerns culminated in
a very poor decision that I made which ended up being my breaking point.
After passing a bend in the road, I came to a complete stop for ahead of me there
was a rather large puddle. I contemplated which side I would cycle for the puddle took
the width of the road and spilled into the forest on each side. Having decided to keep to
the right, I slowly began to cycle forward. It was around the halfway point that everything
turned for the worse. I was cycling to close to the underbrush and (for a second time) my
right front pannier clipped the vegetation. My handlebars immediately veered to the right
and I instinctively put my left foot down to catch myself from tipping over. When my foot
broke the surface of the water, it didn't reach bottom but just kept going. “Oooooh, fuck!”
were the words that escaped my lips as I tipped over in slow-motion. I landed in the centre
of the “puddle” and completely submerged. To add insult to injury, my bike fell on top of
me.Iimmediately pushedthebikeawayandstoodupasmyfeet begantosinkintheslimy
bottom. This “puddle” was in fact a pothole/rut commonly made by heavy trucks spin-
ning their tires trying to get out. It was 3½ to 4 feet deep (over 1 metre) and was filled to
the brim. At first, I couldn't see my bicycle for it was completely submerged in the brown
murky water. After a few moments, the handlebars finally broke the surface. I guess the
front panniers gave the front end of the bike some buoyancy. I grabbed the handlebars,
dragging the bike through the water until I exited on the other side.
When I opened my handlebar bag, I was devastated to find it full of the brown wa-
ter. Everything got wet: my diary, my Bible, my passport, my money, my Nikon camera
and the letters. I burst into tears.
Then rain Armageddon started. Asthe rain poured down,Ikept shouting to myself,
“The devil is not going to win!” over and over as I drained out my bag. Then, with my
fists clenched at my sides (in tribute to Bill Bixbie of the TV show,
The Incredible Hulk
), I
turnedtowardtheraincloudsandscreamed,“WhatthefuckdidIdotodeservethis?Iwant
to go home. I want to have a cup of tea with my mom.” (Please note: I have deleted all the
f-words but one.) After all that screaming/swearing, I sat in the rain and calmly and delib-
erately chewed my almonds one by one. I immediately felt much better though. I regained
my composure and pushed off.
Soon after I mounted the bike, I came across a herd of oxen that were just standing
betweenthetrees.TheystartedtofollowmesoIyelledatthemtoscarethemawaybutthat
seemed to encourage them. For all I knew I could have been shouting a mating call. In my
state of mind, these horned animals looked like beasts from hell and scared me. I began to
cycle in the mud as fast as I could…about the speed of a crawling infant. Thank God the
animals got bored and returned to whence they came.
I am unsure of where I got the energy to do the next 10 kilometres for I don't re-
member the journey (perhaps I was 'carried'). What I do remember was approaching a vil-
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