I was laughing in wonder as I watched these guys treat a mother dog and her two puppies for fleas. It probably wasn’t something to laugh at but it just seemed so bizarre. They used a two liter coke bottle filled with the blackest used motor oil and poured it all over these poor dogs. From branco to preto with just a little oil.
Since leaving Humaita´and passing through Porto Velho I’ve cycled 443 miles in 4 days on the bike. I’m now resting in the city of Rio Branco. I had the fortune of meeting some fellow cyclists while in route from Porto Velho to Rio Branco, including the toughest man I’ve ever met…Alexandre!
Some days everything just clicks. I left Humaita´ after downing a pineapple vitamina, or smoothie with milk and sugar, and headed down the longest paved straightaways I’ve laid eyes on since my days in Indiana. The heat never passed 98F and a headwind kept me cool. I pedaled like I would never get tired and yesterday I didn´t. After 131 miles I reached Porto Velho and felt exhilarated. As the ruthless commodities trader Mark Yost would exclaim…”TASTE IT!”
Humaita´ is a rather pretty city on the Rio Madeira (which means wood). For the past few days I have been catching up on my X-Tudo and ice cream eating, tried my hand at fishing, and have met some colorful people along the way.
I packed up camp in the dark at 4:30 am and forced a few hundred calories of raisins, granola, cookies, and Tang down my throat for a kickstart to the day. I figured Humaita´ is about 75 miles away, there’s no sense making it a two day ordeal, might as well start early!
Ten bucks to anyone who can pronounce that. I left the riverside campsite and dogs behind for another day heading towards Humaita´. With such flatness on the road the previous afternoon I had ideas of another 100 mile day and was hammering the pedals before 6am. This wasn´t one of my wisest decisions. Also, I still don´t quite understand the indians of northern Brazil.
At this point in the trip when I tell people where I have come from I watch their eyes dart up and down from head to toe. While in a pharmacy before leaving Apui´ the woman came from behind the counter while I was explaining my trip and stared at my face from less than 10 inches away. Then she says, “Bacana, Americano. Bacana.”
I am now in Apui´ with an injured hamstring. I predict it will take more time than I have to heal so I will head out and try to take it easy on the bike. I have trimmed some of my gear down by selling and giving away parts I don´t need. It´s not easy to be a salesman in a foreign language!
I´ve made 160 miles since leaving Jacare´and had a very interesting stop over midway. In this section of the TransAm it is very sparcely populated and a smiling face is a welcome sight, especially after an afternoon bogged in torrential rains.
While tinkering with a broken pedal on my bike I see a familiar face come by…and atop his head is my very hat that was lost in the jungle 4 days ago!
