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Date:
March 14, 2002
Hello !
I hope this email finds you well. I am on the shore
of Lake Titicaca in Puno, Peru. I arrived yesterday
after 5 straight days of riding. I want to thank you
for the positive responses to my emails. It is good to
know that you find them interesting.
As I prepared to leave Cuzco I dreaded what I thought
would be many hours of cycling through cold rain. It
had rained every day since I arrived. To my delight I
was completely wrong. Once escaping the pollution of
Cuzco the highway south to Puno was spectacular. The
road followed three different rivers that are nestled
between the Andes mountains. Closer to Cuzco snow
capped behemoths shot into the sky and farther south
the altiplano grasslands supported herds of sheep,
cattle and llamas. I was surrounded by the vivid
colors of nature and the calls of strange birds. The
road was wide and well maintained and at times devoid
of traffic. The people were friendly, the water was
abundant and the camping was first rate. One night I
camped in a grove of trees that overlooked a raging
river. This is how I envisioned cycling around the
world.
This section of road did not come without it‚s
challenges. I dodged afternoon and evening showers and
thunderstorms with great success. There were also some
headwinds closer to Puno. The real challenge came the
morning of the 3rd day. After breaking camp I started
the days ride looking forward to lunch 45kms down the
road. The highway climbed. At the 10km point I
repeated the mantra, " God would not challenge me with
something I can not handle.". After 15kms I was
gasping for air but I did not know why. The last 5km
to the summit was a race with a rain cloud. I received
the reason for my fatigue at the mountain pass as
sleet bounced off my helmet. I was over 14000ft above
sea level ! I remember when my aunt and uncle drove me
to Mt Evans in Colorado. At the time walking at a
similar altitude left me light headed. Now I hiked a
90lb bicycle through the same thin air. I am 38 years
old and better than ever. My reward came only 1km past
the summit. I out ran the sleet and the sun warmed my
frigid hands. The warmth felt like a life giving gift
from god.
The acts of kindness have continued on what I feel is
a grander scale. I judge this by what the individuals
possesses compared to what they freely give. On the
4th night out of Cuzco I was camped in an idelic
meadow with a stream flowing nearby. I had retreated
to my tent to escape the cold evening air. Later I
heard someone calling, " Hola." and I went to
investigate. It was the owner of the property. He was
worried that it was too cold for me to be sleeping
outside. I assured him that my tent was comfortable
and accepted an invitation to breakfast. This
conversation commenced with each of us on a different
side of the stream that ran through his property.
A cold rain fell in the morning and I was welcomed
into his house by his son, daughter and wife. He was
in the town a Lampa for business. I was invited to sit
on a mattress that rested on a dirt floor. The entire
mud brick structure consisted of two rooms and was
smaller than my bedroom at home. Music emanated from a
radio that hung on the wall. The seżora gave me a bowl
of hot soup that felt wonderful on my cold hands. I
ate with trepidation. I knew I had to eat or I would
offend their hospitality. To my relief it was dried
potato soup. Over the cup of tea that followed the
seżora and her son told me of the few cattle and sheep
that they owned. She spoke very loudly in what I
believed to be an attempt to compensate for my bad
Spanish. She informed me that many of the locals speak
only the Quechau language and that hunger is a problem
in the area. She trades meat and wool for what she
needs.
As the meal ended Scott and I conversed in English.
Should we offer them money for breakfast and camping ?
What is the right thing to do ? I felt that offering
them money would insult their sense of hospitality. I
prepared to depart and said my " Thank yous. ". What
struck me was the normality of the moment. I sensed to
invite a stranger into your home and share what you
have is expected. When I consider what I possess the
bowl of soup and cup of tea that was given to me
compares to me giving the entire contents of my well
stocked refrigerator to a stranger that I found
sleeping in my backyard. As I rode away the suns
warmth
radiated from above. I found myself deeply touched by
this simple act of kindness.
Ironically I find myself in a situation that I never
expected. With my journey progressing wonderfully I am
wondering if I should continue. I am solidly committed
to reaching Buenos Aires and continuing across Europe.
I view Europe as a reward for some of the hardships I
have endured in Latin America. But what then ? How
many mountain passes and Third World countries are
enough before they become redundant ? Can I grow as
individual by cycling Asia or are my real challenges
the things I have left a home unfinished ? I share
this with you in hope of conveying the sentiment that
traveling is no different than a "normal" life. It
just appears to be more glamorous. For those of you
with families and who are active in your local
community I applaud and respect you. Your journey is
far more important and impressive than my own. I
consider my choice to leave home as one of the best
decisions of my life. I have not regrets. What I
ponder now is when does my trip stop enhancing my life
but instead become my life ? Any advice ?
I miss you all !
Dennis
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