I am Lord Shiva Destroyer of Bikes. I broke my frame. Bikes are made to be broken. I have broken my share . . . I have to be on a black list somewhere at Kona and KHS – I even cracked my new 853 Niner within a season. . . but a nearly 6lb 4130 steel touring bike? What the fuck?! All I did was ride the thing (8 or 9,000 miles), I am not heavily loaded and whip thin. This was not in the plan and I kinda doubt I will be getting a speedy warranty replacement from Salsa to the central Andes of Peru. Matt and I were grinding up a nice little 1000+ meter climb on a rough dirt road when I heard a clicking sound in my back end . . . cassette is only couple thousand miles – chain the same – rebuilt rear hub – new rings up front . . . I stop, look, the weld broke clean through on the drive side rear drop out. I could start jumping up and down cursing Salsa . . . but as Shiva says, “When a mood against someone or for someone arises, do not place it on the person in question, but remain centered.” So we walked to the next little community at the bend in the road hoping for beer and inquired about a place to stay for the night. No beer because the freakin' evangelicals has gotten there before us (but I got Pisco). After chatting we were invited to stay on a covered second story porch and cooked with lots of spectators. I was having a little performance anxiety - worried my stove might not light, under cook dinner, and finish early . . . but we passed a pleasant evening chatting with a half dozen or so locals and chewing some excellent local coca. My cal gourd was passed around several times for the carving to be admired . We were asked about living in the United States, the war in Iraq, the War on Drugs, our ability to blow up the world with atomic weapons, do children get their first gun at age 5?, prices of basic necessities, price of a gram of gold then . . . “how much does a liter of human fat cost?” . . . Oprah or Kristi Alley would probably just donate it . . . no laugh. “You need it to power air planes?” Matt wondered if they were serious – yes they were serious. What to say? They would not believe us. I am familiar with the belief gringos steal children to boil them down for fat to run machines – it is old and pervasive this was just a new twist. Makes me reluctant to tell people I am flying home. Also, explains why people in remote highlands sometimes hide when I pass and children run crying. It always feels strange to be riding through a community seeing no one knowing you are being watched. Gives pause to reflect on the metaphoric truth of our relationship with the billions of people on the planet living on less than $2 a day.www.radicalcartography.net/index.html?usempire
The next morning Matt continued up the pass towards Pozuzo and I caught a taxi (with 5 others) back to Huanuco to locate a welder. I found one but it is Sunday - so first thing in the morning we will see what they can do for me . . . Many thanks to the friends that make this little adventure of mine possible - Matt Guiles and, especially, Dave Harrison at FBM (www.fbmbmx.com) for welding advice on my broke ass frame.