Day 11, Thursday, January 11
The early morning cucaracha parade helps to raise even the near dead. Breakfast is waiting. Eggs benedict, gourmet coffee and fresh croissants - NOT! But, somehow we get the calories down and start the day with a test of the all-new "mud-O-matic" lubrication system for bikes and riders.
During the night the rain has taken a break, and the mudslide, that posed as a road has settled down somewhat. Though the conditions are thus near perfect, the crew is on the brink of mutiny when Wolfgang calls for an early start before the tractor has a chance to stir up the mud again, or the rain came back. or both. Only the possibility of a lukewarm shower from that rusty barrel in Santa Fe calmes the high flying emotions. So it is fighting the mud all over again. Yard by yard, meter by meter the bikes and the Toyota are moved through the hellish mud. Wolfgang fishtails through the ruts and misses to notice a big rock, put there to stabilize the road. The bikes hits the rock with its skid plate and keels over to the left. The good news is, the engine stops thanks to the dead man switch, but Wolfgang's leg gets jammed under the panhead and has to use his free right leg to remove the rock and kick the bike to life again.
We're on the road again. Two hours later we meet an old buddy of ours, the rain. Which is a mixed blessing, we get soaked again, but at least part of the mud washes off. Fair deal.
The mud wash extends all the way to Santa Fe, where the younger generation takes high interest in the four mud mummies riding noisy lumps of mud out of the rainforest.
The four are looking forward to a real shower now. Which sort of isn't there. There's just a puddle with a toad in it. No water. The Four raise all kinds of hell in the village, until, bucket by bucket, the shower apparatus is filled with a murky, ill-smelling liquid. Well, its wet, and thats good enough for us. It's off to sleep right afterwards.