The Id of Our Marriage

Loma de Jesus – Ilo, Peru

We need to start with a little correction.  

I may have taken some liberties with the name of the restaurant where we saw Gorilla yesterday. In yesterday’s post I referred to this eatery as Potato Balls. I realized today that the name is actually Walking Potatoes, and, because accuracy is important, I wanted to make this clarification. 

Ironically, Gorilla appeared at Loma de Jesus this morning; peeling potatoes. 

I guess he hiked from Walking Potatoes to Loma de Jesus. We know this because yesterday, while I was trying to figure out how far it was to Bananas Beach, Diana was talking to Juan Carlos (Gorilla). He told her that he was planning to go to Loma. When Diana asked how he would get there – because there were no cars or any other obvious transportation options at Walking Potatoes – Gorilla told her he would walk:

”Just five minutes,” he said. 

Which is strange – because it’s a full three miles. I mean, there are no trees – or any other vegetation – to block the view, so you can see Potatoes from Jesus, and vice versa – but it’s still three miles. Gorilla must be one fast walker . . .

Which brings me to today. And, really, every day in this area. Did I mention that there are no trees? That’s not 100% accurate either – I guess these last posts are full of inaccuracies . . . 

Because today we did see a tree. It was down in this drainage. It’s probably been growing since Columbus landed in the Americas. We know this because even with all the rain for like a hundred miles around focused in one area by this drainage, I don’t think a tree would get enough moisture to grow more more than a centimeter or two per year. It looked like it’s about ten meters tall – at one centimeter per year that equates to about 1,000 years old. 

But, anyway, the point is that there was a tree. 

No, I guess that’s not really the point. The point is that there are no trees. The drainage ditch arbor is just the exception that proves the rule. 

Why am I telling you that there are no trees around here? Because no trees means no shade. Like none. Zero. Zilch. 

And that sun is draining. I mean, you can slather on all the sunscreen in the world. But in the end, five or six hours in that sun will sap the energy right out of you.

That’s the only way to explain my current condition. That is, dead tired. I mean, we only biked about 40 miles today. Pleasant ride. Definitely some more climbing – starting with the half hour it took to ride back up the hill from Loma de Jesus to Walking Potatoes. But the climbs weren’t monumental or anything – and eventually we came back down to sea level, and then it leveled out. 

Sadly, leveling out seems to rhyme with wind around here. Like 20 mile per hour winds. Strength-sapping headwinds. And, sure enough, that’s what happened today. The last ten miles into town were super slow going. 

So – you combine the sun and the wind, and this place takes it out of you . . .

Fortunately, there are things called air conditioning and refrigeration. You find them in towns of some reasonable size. 

And, therein lies the real problem. 

Yes, we’re in a nice town now. Ilo. Has houses and buildings and trees. Heck, it even has a desalination plant.

But towns are few and far between around here. And there is nothing – nothing – in between them. You’re lucky if you find one Walking Potatoes for every fifity 50 miles of road.

And this maybe brings us to the id of our marriage. You should probably really think about whether you want to continue reading. Because the id of anything can be a big, ugly thing. The id of our marriage? Scary.

Okay, you’ve been sufficiently warned. 

Or, I think you have anyway. Probably some millennial reader will claim this was not enough. As a  blog community member they will argue that they are entitled to read every last word – so I am obligated to leave out bits that they might find difficult or offensive . . .

Well, now I just want to share this all the more. I’m spiteful like that . . .

You see, Diana and I have kind of a tacit agreement on these trips. We like seeing pretty things. But we also like to eat good things. We like to see museums and cool cultural stuff. We like to have nice riding. And we like at least some semblance of civilization – like maybe an occasional bathroom and a shower. 

Take away one of these things for a few hours and life goes on. 

Like biking through Guatemala City. Yucky riding. Not pretty. But whatever, you’ll be done soon . . .

Or a big stretch with no towns. No problem. Bring a peanut butter sandwich and some water – or, in Diana’s case, don’t even worry about it – bike the 50 miles or whatever, and then enjoy a frappe or a malt or something. (By the way, did you know that there is no peanut butter in Latin America? I mean, how do these countries ever think they are going to impress Americans without peanut butter?)

But here’s the thing . . . Taking away multiple items for multiple days – that’s a recipe for stressing our marriage. 

Which brings us – finally – back to Peru and Chile – our next few days. Or, really, our next few weeks.

This is what we’re looking at . . .

• Huge stretches with no services.
• A daily overdose of sun – with no reprieve.
• No people – just a few cars zooming by.
• Museums, or other signs of civilization? Are you kidding?
• Cold drinks, air conditioning? Are you on drugs?
• Toilets? Maybe Walking Potatoes is a franchise. I think they had baños . . .

So I’m a little worried that the cosmic balance of our marriage is going to be a little thrown off. I think we’re both a little worried about that . . . Another way to put all this . . . Some people are into “bike packing” – where you head into the wilderness and try to get away from people and stuff. That’s not us. We’re into bike touring – where you stick to the roads and enjoy all that people have to offer. This next phase – this desert moonscape phase – is more of a bike packer’s paradise . . . We can enjoy elements of it – but it’s not our preference.

Upshot. Once again our plans are evolving. Rather than go the full thousand or so miles across the Atacama Desert to Santiago, we’re thinking of heading more directly across the Andes and into Argentina. 

Don’t worry – we’re still looking at 500 miles or so of full-on desert. 

The next few days is our first test. 103 miles to the town of Arica, in Chile. The hope for tomorrow is that we can make it 62 miles to a campground – because there are no hotels the whole way to Arica. But at least the campground and the town of Arica are on the coast. After that we have hundreds of miles crossing the desert with no water around. And then we bike up a 15,000’+ pass into Argentina. 

Pretty sure there’s a coffee shop in Argentina . . .

Hmm.