Doctors on the road: The Rollercoaster

We camp in the most beautiful setting yet.

36 hrs earlier we leave Rio Tranquilo late at 3.30. A mixture of sightseeing and restocking keeps us late but we are eager to move on. Clouds linger overhead, the air temperature doing little to warm our knees and only four hours of sunlight left. We are quiet as we finish preparations but anxiety bubbles through me. The last two weeks of cold nights, colder mornings, stiff joints, wet stuff and repetitive meals have taught a few lessons. I'm sure that one of them is, 'don't leave late.' At this point an internal dialogue begins.

"Why are we leaving so late? It's nice here, why don't we just wait until tomorrow?"

"But I'm itching to make progress and if we get In a good couple of hours then we could make it a two day trip rather than a three day trip."

"But it's 3.30!"

"But we need to get North because of the weather."

Indecision clouds logic and we set off. Dave, Katie and myself, lunch already leaving my system and Katie's broken rear pannier rack precariously holding her bags.

Anxiety.

Some light sight seeing with Katie

Fast forward 40 mins: mud, uphill, rain. Barely any distance covered but too far to turn back. Without music to listen to it's easy to get trapped in repetitive trains of thought, the previous conversation now churns over and over as steam bellows from my legs.

We battle on for 2.5 hrs then darkness forces us to camp in a poorly covered forest. Our new stove fails to work and we once more find ourselves huddled round Katie's stove, sheltering from the continuous rain. The staccato pattern of drops on the tarp and the fear of our tents' waterproofing integrity ensures a poor nights sleep. Dave resorting to medicinal support at 3am.

We wake with almost everything wet and condensation on our breath. Dave slices his hand attempted to fashion a dressing for his foot and damp cycling gear does little to enthuse our tired bodies. We set off into the mist.

Lunch is a new low. Hungry but a bit too cold to enjoy it, unable to feel my feet and concerned that the cold rain may have permeated my bones. I try to be jovial but I look at Dave's face and all I see is, "Why did you bring me here Kyle?" The first time a lunch of pate and cheese has tasted bland.

Melancholy.

Dave is keen to push on to try and make a warm bed. 70km seems like a lot to ride in an afternoon, but I do little dampen Dave's desire because of my concern that he currently dislikes me. Giving it a go seems the least I could do so we ride hard after lunch. The road improving slightly, allowing us to stretch our legs and hammer our discomfort through the pedals. It's almost cathartic.

Anger.

We make good time and as we drop into a new valley the......sun comes out! The beauty of the world rushes back in a we fly down the hill, the sun eviscerating our bad moods within seconds. Our eyes are opened and we see this savannah next to a range of snow covered mountains. We pull over for a snack and all the quiet moments of the last 24hrs are lost, the familiar jokes resurface and the pate tastes amazing again. "Well that was s*** and this is a amazing", I smirk. "Agreed."