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Around 8:30 we stopped in a small village that had no electricity.
Nor was there fuel. We had about a quarter of a 70 gallon tank left, enough
for a few hours. There was a tasty fried chicken dinner in canteen lit
with paraffin lamps. No one from the race had come here either.Again,no
one had ever heard of it.We were quite lost.As we attempt to leave the
village the jeep is surrounded by drunken Indians pounding on the windows.
Sunday is the traditional day for men to get drunk here in the Andes. The
Indians begin drinking as soon as they get up in the morning The women
and children go to church (when not under siege). Now, at 10 PM, they were
becoming belligerent after several bottles apiece of corn liquor. They
yelled in a local dialect, incomprehensible to anyone including themselves.
A bottle cracked the side window as we sped out of town at 15 mph.
Navigating by the rising moon and Southern Stars, we attempted to head
West to get towards the Pacific Ocean and the Pan Americano. We drive through
the night on the muddy boulder strewn roads that never end, only get worse.
We will not be in Trujillo for the start tomorrow morning, and unfortunately
the Toyota will be officially disqualified from the race, though it will
actually make it to Buenos Aires. That's OK because I'm not here to kill
myself, just trying to get a decent story.
We finally sack out at 1 AM in our sleeping bags.
Elevation 11000. Temperature 32 F , 0 C.
Latitude 5 S, 74 W.
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