Clutching at muddy straws

Those of you who have followed our progress on facebook today will know of our third consecutive day of drama.

The thing is, it had started so well. We had spent a miserable few hours in huancarama prison block E, but rose well before the sun came up, eager to catch up on lost ground and get as close to the leading convoy as possible, past Andahualas on the steep mountain road.

We set off in pitch black at 5am, and within an hour unbeknownst to us had taken the wrong fork in a road. The locals of course kept pointing us in the wrong direction, and soon after the cockerals had tarted crowing and the sun had begun to shed light on the blind mutderous corners, we had reached a small river/stream crossing with two banks of squishy mud which circumnavigated a big rock. We sent Moira off Betsy to investigate the ground and also film our attempt. But before she even resched the sure footing of said rock, adam had engaged first gear to hopefully plough through the viscous clay aroud the right hand side of the rock, through the stream and onto the safe footing of the grassy and gravely heaven of the other side.

What actually happened was we stacked it!

Yes, we sunk our tempremental steed in the mud bank.only inches from toppling it completely and nearly taking Moira out in the process. It may have been bettet if we had (of course I mean toppling Betsy, not taking Moira out...cough cough), as we had submerged most of the bike in the mud as the picture shows. What followed was the full gamet of emotions which started with humour but quickly descended through denial, anger, despair and finally hope as we went through plans A to F all ending in failure in the need to unstick ourselves from the mess we were in. We finally suceeded using logs, rope, brute strength, and sheer willpower as we inched our now very dirty mototaxi and very very dirty selves to the dreamland of the gravely bank across from the stream (I kid you not, i'm typing this still cakedr in mud). The whole process took about two hours. And we had the early start and the sheer joy of accomplishment to think things were finally on the up.

And on the up they certainly were, as we washed ouselves the best we could in the stream, reloaded all our gear and set off forhigher firmer ground and the road to Andahualas. But within half an hour we had reached a new low. Struggling with traction had been a huge problem on these muddly roads and the mototaxi refused to take anyone but the driver uphill. This meant a lot of walking for already exhausted bodies, but there was a steely determination to make today a big day, until disaster struck. Our clutch gave out again. Yes our brand new clutch fitted less than 24 hours earlier, would not engage outside neutral. A little tickering with the clutch cable gave us a tiny bit of power and movement, but we were again stationary and suffering from the same problem as the day before yesterday. We called a local mechanic who took an hour to arrive from the town we had left early that morning (yes - wankarama), whilst we were bitten to shreds by flies we referred to as yellow f*****s

The most bizarre thing was the mechanic arrived from the town we had left but from the road we were heading up. The most demoralising feeling ever, to realise the whole mornings work had been for nothing as we had clearly taken the wrong road. To cut a long boring fly bitten afternoon short, we basically lost over 5 hours stationary waiting for the mechanic, parts (new clutch and cable, our new oil from earlier had turned black too), or the actual fixing of the bike. Once fixed, we were told it would be suicidal to leave for Andahualas as darkness would be setting in, and it was bandit country, and the fact that Wankarama was only 2 km away. We reluctantly decided to follow advice and return to our starting point, meaning we would have made zero progress on our supposedly big day,a real kick in the teeth.

As moira and myself we ushered into a car back, we realised from the 10km descent that we were conned into thinking we were that close to Huancarama,and that we would have been better off taking refuge in the village school that the local village teacher had offered us whilst working on our tans when we were waiting for our clutch.

It was a very bitter feeling, as some progress is better than none. However every grey cloud has a silver lining, as we met up with the aussies Fishe and Adam, the wandering wallabies, who were pulling into Huancarama for the first time. We shared stories, pics and vids aplenty of the last three days (They were the early frontrunners who had taken a bad wrong turning), and we made a pact, that we would be sleeping in Ayacucho tomorrow night, a full 200 km away. Is it possible? I don't know, but we will be giving it a try. I've got a strange feelling though thst things are turning around for the The Incaredibles.

This is Avi Incaredible signing off for someshut eye, as it will be another 4.30am start, and it may continue into the night, so please stay tuned for more fun and frollics from Peru, but please no more clutches.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8