We were cruising along when I saw sealant spray out of Mike's tire. The attempt to use my plug failed badly and made the hole bigger. He inserted the inner tube.
It doesn't take 3 people to change a tube, so I left early so those guys didn't have to go so slow. I was making good progress. It was not hot and the road was flat.
There were thousands of Colombians out for a Sunday ride. The range of ability was huge. I was passing the weaker riders and peletons of good riders flew past me. At one point a pair of rider passed me and they were really moving. Not more than an inch or two between them. Then I noticed the lead rider only had a left arm.
It was quite a while before Mike and Andy caught me but they made a detour through Buga. They said it was quite nice.
Suddenly, they were behind me. I needed some food and we stopped at a rest stop cafeteria. We all got the soup and rice and beans. I got a chicken leg. Eagerly, I tasted the soup. That's not right. It was liver soup. None of us could eat it. The waitress was very surprised we all left the heart soup.
One of the worst things about this trip is seeing the tragedy of Venezuelan migrants on the road. They are fleeing Venezuela and trying to get anywhere. There are whole families walking to Equador or places in Colombia. Many are starving and sick. It is a real humanitarian crisis.
Back on the road, I was leading and I looked back and told Andy I needed a water stop soon. Hey, where is Mike? Just then I get a message: "Tire is flat. A truck picked me up and dropped me up the road in Obando. I'm off the main street getting the tire patched".
We stopped at Cartago and found a hotel. Not much going on and it's hot. Time for bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment