Well, our mechanical-free, great day on day 8 did not last long. Around 9pm (we go to bed around 7pm), Erin was tossing and turning saying she felt nauseous. Nausea is not good for anyone, especially Erin, because of her deep-seated fear of throwing up. Sure enough, she rushed out of the tent to throw up. It continued like this throughout the night: she would sleep for a short amount of time and then hastily unzip the tent to go throw up. It was cold and windy and perhaps the most uncomfortable place to be sick. Daylight finally came after a very long night, and we knew we couldn’t bike that day. Erin was still nauseous and feeling out of it. Luckily, we were camped near a big mining site so lots of cars and trucks were passing through. After weighing our options, we decided it would be best/easiest to backtrack to a town and find a bed for the day/night. Decision-making was not easy; there was a piercing wind and the tent was loud, flapping uncontrollably - impairing our ability to think clearly. It’s hard to be calm when the surroundings feel so chaotic. Megan was able to wave down one car and ask where they were going - they said “to town” and drove away. Darn. Eventually another truck rolled up and came to a stop nearby - three men dressed in bright orange work suits got out and were inspecting an aspect of the lake. Through limited Spanish, Megan told them that Erin had problems with her stomach and that we wanted to go to Vichaycocha. They said something about a medic and Vichaycocha and that our bike could fit in the back of the truck. So we just decided to hop in. They drove up to the mining site and then two men got out to go take measurements of water. One guy stayed behind and we tried to converse with him and understand if he could take us to Vichaycocha. It sounded like they could take us near Vichaycocha - but where was that? The two men came back and we were off. They continued to stop a few more times to take water measurements. Hydrologists? We didn’t know if we made the right decision. Sure enough, two men got out and the driver continued driving us down a dirt road - finally in the direction of Vichaycocha. Was he taking us all the way?! A few minutes later he stopped and told us we could bike all the way downhill to Vichaycocha from there.

Megan tried her best to pack the bike (Erin is way better at it), while Erin sat in the sun.  Once the bike was packed, we headed down a steep gravel descent towards town. Unfortunately the road dropped us below town, which meant we needed to climb 500 feet to get there - not good for a nauseous Erin. We thought Erin could hitch a ride while Megan rode the bike, but no vehicles came. We decided it would be faster to just bike. Megan told Erin “Keep it loose! No pressure on the pedals!” as we ascended the 500 feet and one mile to town. Once we got to town, we quickly settled into a hostel, where Erin spent the rest of the day in bed (minus 10 minutes for a warm shower without a towel). Megan got herself some lunch from the restaurant next door. Then she got herself some dinner from the same restaurant that night. She even met two bikepackers who were cycling for a year! They had spent half the year in Africa and now were spending the other half in South America. 

Megan went to bed quite full, but happy she got some good calories in at the restaurant. Ramen and tuna just doesn’t do it. Unfortunately, she was woken by her own grumbly belly around 10:30pm. She rushed to the bathroom with some GI problems... Two more times during the night she rushed to the bathroom to vomit. 

On the bright side, Erin was feeling better the following day, while Megan was quite incapacitated. It would have been rough if we were sick at the same time. We don’t know what did it - was the tuna expired? Did we drink bad water? Was it Megan’s two dishes of chicken, fries, and rice? We’ll never know, but it certainly makes us more anxious for the future and what we can and cannot eat. 

Megan spent today (day 10) in bed, while Erin washed our clothes - they were very dirty and in need of a wash. Everyone washes their clothes in the river here, so we did the same. 

We spent a lot of the day talking about what to do: should we go to Lima for a few days to recover? Both of us here barely eaten anything and biking sounded really hard. It’s hard to find comfort out here. We were craving comfort in the form of luxury hotel with sheets and a hot shower. The hostel we are staying at now provides a bed and a warm shower, but we don’t feel recovered. We talked about wanting to quit. Wanting to just be done. The world keeps throwing these hurdles at us and we don’t know how much more we can take it. It feels like the route is chipping away at us, and we don’t have the opportunity to recover in a way that meets our needs. 

Acknowledging that we weren’t in the best headspace to make a rational decision about quitting, we decided to give it two more days. We will hitch a ride to rejoin the route tomorrow and see how it goes. Will we feel rejuvenated or ready to be done? It’s hard to feel like you’re giving up on something - like you aren’t tough enough or resilient enough to make it through. We are trying to hold compassion for ourselves and remember this route is very challenging - not just the biking, but how everything we are experiencing is out of our element: the language, the small towns, the food, the conditions of a “hotel.” We have such a different standard coming from the US. We live such different lives. Neither is better - but it’s humbling to see how people live out here in these remote Peruvian villages.