For the next section, Catavina to Santa Rosalillita, I grouped up with a gang of fellow cyclists who had suddenly appeared in the desert. They were JD, the French guy from Alberta, Pieter from Netherlands, and Mike from Arizona. I was nervous about the next part. The guide recommended carrying 8-12 liters of water and doing all 120 miles in two days. Somehow I crammed 8 liters of water onto my bike. It was heavy and awkward. Not so sure about the two days part.
We left town heading north on the highway. The trail turned off in 5 miles. We spread out on the highway so at the turnoff I was alone with Mike. Then Pieter caught up but where was JD? We stopped to wait, wondering if he’d missed the turn. Some caravan buddies we were!
Taking off again, the guys outpaced me on the downhill. I trundled along by myself. Till I looked down and realized I’d dropped my phone somewhere.
Where did it go? What had I done now? Two trucks went by. What if they squashed it? I rode back and finally saw JD rolling up. So that was good. He’d missed the turn the first time and had to backtrack. He hadn’t seen my purple phone. I had a few more hills to go before I found it sitting in the red dirt. Hooray!
I turned around to ride those miles for the third time. Just before sunset, Mike came riding up to fetch me. So I guess we weren’t a terrible a caravan after all. Although I guess I don’t like making people slow down and wait for me. Back at camp, we had a campfire and that was cool. All the guys had done long international bicycle tours before, so we had lots in common. The fire died down like it was late at night but when I got in my tent, it was only 7pm. The coastal fog was already rolling in, soaking everything.
Spinstera 