A Fallen Hero

Boca del Rio, Peru – Arica, Chile

I always think that if you have a bone to pick with someone that it’s best to get it out there right away. No use having resentments fester over time. 

So I’ll just come right out with it. I guess I’m a little disappointed in my readers. The sand worm issue has left me more than a little hurt. Blog Subscriber Doug tells me I should give up on the sand worm idea because he doubts we have a thumper and some other thing along. Apparently you need those things to summon and ride on a sand worm. And then another reader, our “good friend” Tom C says he doubts I know how to ride a sand worm because, according to him, I slept through most of Dune 2. 

It’s not so much their doubts that bother me. No. It’s more that no one else has come to my defense. 

“Hey Tom – that was a really bad movie. And I don’t think he slept through the sand worms how-to part anyway . . .”

Or: “Really Doug – after John has demonstrated such an amazing ability to devise ingenious tools – like his patented plastic basket thing. I think it’s pretty obvious that he could devise a thumper out of various found materials . . .”

I will give it to Laura B. She at least acknowledged that I have a really cool ankle bracelet these days . . .

The rest of you? After all I’ve done for you . . .

But maybe I’m being too harsh. After all, I think I failed to mention my latest McGyver innovation. So maybe you can be forgiven for not realizing how easily I can come up with solutions to high tech problems.

In all the Walking Potatoes excitement I may have overlooked this story . . .

So – remember when we went back by Walking Potatoes after camping at Loma de Jesus? We’re taking pictures and stuff and I look down . . . and what do I see? 

Exactly what I had been looking for. That’s what.

For months now I’ve been pining for a new and improved phone holder. I mean, the one I had was okay. Basically all these rubber band things that hold the phone in place. It’s cool. It works just fine. But the issue is that you need to use two hands to put your phone back. 

Huge problem. 

Because about every two minutes I want to take another picture. Diana has no patience for that. She just wants to keep going. Now, I’m pretty good at taking pictures while we ride. But with that holder I have to stop the bike to put the phone back in place. And then Diana yells at me. Not ideal. 

What I’ve been coveting is one of those more automatic, spring-loaded cell phone holders that you often find in old cars – before they had supercomputer screens with all the driving directions. But, of course, there were two problems with this idea. First, where to get such a spring-loaded device in Latin America? Second, even if I had such a device, how would I affix it to my bike? 

Now, low and behold, what was sitting on the ground moldering away at Walking Potatoes? You get one guess . . .

Yes. You got it. I guess you’re not that bad after all. 

A spring-loaded cell phone holder. Exactly what I had been hoping for. It was like Christmas came early.

Okay, but this device is meant to attach to the car windshield via a suction cup. Hmm. I don’t even have a windshield. Plus, the thing is huge. Starts with a big suction cup. The suction cup is attached to a big arm that fits inside yet another big arm. That arm is connected to the actual spring-loaded cell phone holder via a ball and socket joint on the back of the holder itself. 

It really doesn’t seem possible that I can make this thing work. Sad.

That night I show Diana my find. As usual, she is not impressed.

”What is that thing? It looks old and broken . . .”

(She’s pretty much like Tom and Doug – total doubters . . .)

Now I really need to find a solution. 

I play with the various parts. I’m trying to think of a clamp that I could fashion to attach to my handlebars. Hmm. No dice. I don’t think I even have one of those digital printer things.

Now I’m thinking about sawing the elbow joint thing off of the back of the spring-loaded holder so that I can zip tie it to the handlebars directly. 

I go to bed thinking I have it figured out.

But when I wake up in the morning I realize that won’t work. The zip ties themselves will prevent the phone from seating properly – which would mean the phone would just fall off. That won’t do . . .

And then it hits me. 

I can attach the ball-and-socket arm to the stem on my bike with zip ties. And then I’ll have a phone holder that I can rotate around any way I want. So cool! And that’s exactly what I ended up doing. Because, fortunately, we do have zip ties that we’ve been carrying with us in our tool kit since Minneapolis. This solution works great. You’ll be enjoying all the great pictures and videos I can take as we ride for . . . well, for I don’t know how long . . . A long time.

Given this great problem solving, I’m thinking of coining a new term. Let’s face it. McGyver is so yesterday. The 21st century demands someone new and hip. I mean, they hadn’t even invented cell phones when McGyver was operating – let alone spring-loaded cell phone holders. 

What did we say before? Something like: 

“She McGyvered a solution.”

I guess that’s fine, that is, if you want to use dated language. 

The new term:

”She Mungered something up . . .”

Unlike McGyver, the new term implies a higher standard, with a little more artistry and flare . . .

I’m not sure if our new word will make it into the Scrabble Dictionary. It is spelled with a capital M – which maybe disqualifies it. But then, maybe Scrabble needs to modernize a little as well . . .

I guess I would try it . . . And if you use the conjugated form: “Mungered” – it’s an eight-letter word and you get a 50 point bonus . . .

My point in telling you all this – the sand worm problem? Child’s play.

Okay, it’s time to segue to a new story . . .

Fortunately, with my patented new spring-loaded phone holder thing I was able to take a photo that gets us right into the new conversation . . .

That fruit you are looking at? Those are figs. 

One of Diana’s favorites.

We saw olives – green and black, pomegranates, more hot peppers, mangoes, and, of course, figs today. 

I guess one of the things that we’re discovering is that the desert is full of surprises. 

So that’s a little introduction to our new topic. But this is kind of a sad story. It’s about fallen heroes and people – well, really, a particular person – stealing the literal fruits of other people’s labor, and then deceiving and stabbing new friends in the back. 

It really doesn’t get much worse . . .

I’m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news . . .

After Diana saw the figs she immediately called a stop and was off her bike in a jiffy. Before I know it she’s picking figs. And not just one or two. It was at least three or four. 

Terrible. The poor guy that worked so hard to grow those trees in the desert . . .

And as if that wasn’t bad enough. 

Now, we arrive at the border. A guy approaches. He’s asking us something about our bikes – which are parked across the way while we negotiate the various stamps and stuff – but we don’t understand what he’s asking. So he calls in his colleague – who knows English. 

Manuel. Super nice guy. Lived in Terrytown north of New York City for a brief time. Went to school there and loved it because he loves heavy metal music and he was able to go to a number of concerts: Whitesnake, Ozzy Osborne, etc. 

Anyway, Manuel translates for the other guy. 

“Do you have any fruit on your bikes?”

Before I can say anything Diana jumps in. 

“No, no we don’t.”

Manuel reports back to his colleague, the fruit inspector. And now our new friend Manuel has unwittingly become an accomplice in Diana’s crime. 

Unbelievable.

But it gets worse.

We’re through with all the stamps and everything. We’re on our bikes and we’re heading into Chile – when we’re stopped by yet another official guy. Apparently you have to have your bags checked – like at the airport – before you can enter the country. The guy even has a dog – probably a fruit-sniffing canine – just to show he is serious . . .

We head back with our bags. I didn’t see it happen – because it was so sneaky – but Diana surreptiously takes the absconded figs out of her bag and puts them in the concealed pocket on the back of her bike jersey. 

So now she’s a fruit stealer, backstabber, and an international fig smuggler. Reminds me of a Pat Benetar song – something about “You’re a backstabber, fruit stealer, don’t you mess around with me . . .”

Trying to look up the song – but there is no power in Chile right now and, I guess, now no cellular service either. Which brings me to my next – last topic – of the day.

Chile.

It took about two seconds after crossing the border. Diana and I both felt it. After about a thousand miles of Ecuador and Peru we were back to a more organized, dare I say, more civilized place. 

Let me give you some examples . .  .

The traffic lights. 

You can see the lights. They work. There is more than one light per corner. Now, most of you will be confused by all this. You might be thinking a traffic light is a traffic light. 

Mmm. Not so much. Turns out that the traffic lights we are used to are way easier to see and react to than the traffic lights in places like Ecuador and Peru.

The side streets. 

They’re paved. Again, maybe seems obvious. Not so much. Most towns in places like Ecuador and Peru have only the main street through town paved. Everything else is dirt. Potholes everywhere.

The grocery stores. 

There is room in the aisles. They are huge. They have nice things. They have a variety of things. Stuff is not stacked up to the ceiling in a hodge podge. 

Garbage. 

It’s not all over the streets and in the gutters. It doesn’t smell everywhere. It’s neat and orderly.

I point all of this out on two levels. One, the obvious snooty American point of view. We are definitely guilty as charged. There is just no living an upper-middle-class life in America without becoming somewhat spoiled by all that we have.

But there is another layer here. Because I don’t think it is just the snooty American thing at work here. I just don’t think you can live in a country that has garbage everywhere, that does not pave the streets, that has horns honking constantly because society has not been able to invest enough in proper traffic control devices, that has crowded and chaotic grocery stores, etc. – without absorbing some underlying stress that maybe you don’t even know about. The kind of stress that can hold a country back. And, of course, it is far worse for most of the people who live in these places because most of them don’t have the resources we do.

Even for us, we didn’t even consciously realize that all this was such a stressor until we left Peru and entered Chile. It’s like that murder fan that we talked about a few weeks ago. You don’t realize how much fans like that drive you crazy until someone turns the fan off . . . Once we crossed into Chile we just felt it. And only then did we realize that low-level chaos-induced stress that we had been living under . . .

Of course, Chile is still part of Latin America. It’s not some Mecca that has everything figured out. We learned that very quickly upon our arrival. 

We walked into the grocery store, we’re busy marveling at the size and the scope and how nice everything is – and then the power blinked out. I guess the grocery store must have had an emergency back-up generator – because the store didn’t miss a beat. 

But, as it turns out, according to Marcelo, our Airbnb host, the ENTIRE COUNTRY of Chile just lost its power. Remember, Chile is the longest country in the world – 3,000+ miles north to south. Again, the ENTIRE COUNTRY lost power. Are you kidding? Those traffic lights that we were just bragging about? Not working anymore…

So now we’re cooking dinner – because fortunately the Airbnb has a gas stove. But it’s unclear what the night has in store for us. Hmm. 

As for tomorrow, it was already a planned rest day – before we hit the 150 mile stretch with no hotels or services to speak of. Now we’re for sure taking the day off. Among other things, we need a new power adapter because Chile and Argentina have a different standard plug in. And we’re probably not going into the desert until we know that power is working in the country. There are only a few places out there to grab food and water. Don’t want to risk that they’re closed because of the power outage . . .