Spiders. More spiders. And even more spiders. I have never seen so many spiders. They were everywhere. A Mexican version of the Daddy Long Legs, crawling all over the ground. No matter where you stopped, they were there. Like the spider scene from that Harry Potter movie, but smaller. Thankfully smaller. Not harmful. They didn't want to eat us but I sure didn't relish the idea of sleeping on the hard ground while spiders crawled over me all night long.
But that's what I was prepared to do.
Milton was too tired to go on. So, we were staying right here. On the side of the mountain. Sleeping on the ground (none of us brought camping gear 'cause we don't camp). It was going to be uncomfortable but there was no other option. Milton needed to rest enough to regain his strength.
We had a group discussion about how to best handle the situation. I told Bob and Scott to ride back to Aramberri and get a room in the local hotel. There was no need for all of us to suffer. I would stay on the mountain with Milton and we would ride out in the morning.
During our impromptu group meeting, a man walked by. Astute readers of this story may have noticed laundry hanging on a clothes line in one of the previous pictures. That was his home and it was about a mile back. His name was Cirilo and he was walking to a field up ahead to retrieve his goats. We visited with him for a few minutes and then he continued on his way.
Finally, Bob and Scott agreed to ride back to Aramberri. I told them Milton and I would be along about 10 am the next morning. If we didn't arrive by noon it meant that either one of our bikes had broken or that one of us had gotten injured. Mount a rescue and come get us.
Off they went.
Milton and I settled down, sitting on the rocks as I watched the spiders coming in for a closer look. Ugh, I really don't care for spiders.
A bit later Cirilo came back down the road, driving his goats back to his place. "Come to my house", he says to us. After a short discussion, Milton and I agree. Anything is better than sleeping on rocks. Or with spiders.
Milton and I mount up and head back toward Cirilo's house. Milton drops the bike again, he is exhausted.
Finally, we arrive at Cirilo's place and his father, Frederico, greets us by opening the gate in the wire fence and escorting us to their home.
The adventure needle just pegged "Epic Milton".