"As a punishment from the gods for his trickery King Sisyphus was made to roll a huge boulder up a steep hill. Before he could reach the top, however, the massive stone would always roll back down, forcing him to begin again.[4] The maddening nature of the punishment was reserved for King Sisyphus due to his hubristic belief that his cleverness surpassed that of Zeus Himself. Zeus accordingly displayed his own cleverness by consigning Sisyphus to an eternity of useless efforts and unending frustration. Thus it came to pass that pointless and/or interminable activities are sometimes described as Sisyphean."
I seriously started to worry that it could end on this hill in heat exhaustion so I did stop halfway and drink the water I had left. Neil Young lyrics popped into mind when I wondered about the image of me collapsed still in my packs.
"Old man sitting
by the side of the road
With the lorries rolling by,
Blue moon sinking
from the weight of the load"
I started up again and was at the point when I was slogging one slow step at a time and a truck stopped and gave me a ride up the hill. The dude said he stopped cause it looked like I was going to die and a man my age should stick his thumb out. they gave me a ride to the top of the hill and left me so on I trudged with no idea now where I was going. I stopped after another half Km I think and decided to thumb back to town and then it started to rain, not hard but rain. Pack covers and poncho but I knew if I tried to walk with the poncho on it would be a quick sauna death. For an hour I thought about how this was such a shit day and where it was in the shit day index in my life. It stopped raining and the same peeps came back up the road and stopped asking what the hell was I doing. They still didn't know the name of the place but when I mentioned the name of some guy someone who spoke no english mentioned he said they would take me there.
The cabin had just been vacated and Windy wasn't around so I looked at the place, wondered if this was all a good idea and maybe I should just go back to Bocas but figured I'd lie in one of the hammocks for a bit. It didn't take long to hear and see the jungle life right in front of me and listen to the nothing but natural sounds to realize that it would be OK. Smelling like weasel shit I put the packs back on, left the boogie board and case and went back out to the road to hitch a ride, bus or taxi. On the way back to town looking at the road and hill I knew it would get me sooner or later if walking was my mode of transport. Bus is infrequent, taxis could be a cost going into town twice a day and a bicycle was not going to be a much better option with that hill and gravel road. I checked into the same place I stayed in February and after a shower, two chilled shots of Cafe Patron, two coronas at Chico's {so much more on Chico's later} and dinner I went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night consumed with the idea of getting a cheap dirt bike to make the daily trips but not the one at night after Chico's.
Several of my peeps before I left expressed concern about me being on a Puch or a scooter let alone a dirt bike. Rightly so perhaps for someone who has had a couple of concussions, taken flight down stairs with a head injury, getting hit by a car and having a cerebral infarct at some point. Occasionally I lurch and now pretty much am tethered to a boogie board where there isn't too far to fall. Balance impaired is appropriate.
I bumped into Pia who I surfed with last winter and hung out a little bit with him catching up and mentioned the dirt bike idea and whatdyathink? He's selling his. When I laughed about being balance impaired he said just go faster and it stays straight.
Looking for a cheap 100cc bike.
"Wild old gringo going straight down the road"
just saying...tommyO
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