Well guys the deal I made w/ the doctors last night after yesterday's sun stroke was that if I urinated by this morning that I would be allowed to start Stage 4. Imagine working that into your everyday life...."I will be happy to send back the letter of agreement, if you can urinate by the morning..." Life just takes a different spin with different values and a different perspective out here. By stage 4 money holds zero value. Food, duct tape, second skin, and sunscreen are our Cartier, our Rolls Royce, our Louis Vuitton. Plain water is our gold. Well, after a full IV and then two liters of gold I thought everyone would like to know that I did in fact pee. I can hearing the cheering from here...I love the fact that perhaps somewhere in either 1919k or Victoria House that someone might actually say "hey, did you hear...Ricky peed..."
I started stage 4 focused on finishing the race and not having another heat stroke so my place will have dropped quite a bit but I actually really enjoyed today. We had 42km starting with a scenic descent and climb of several dunes and then up a large lava rock field to a seemingly bottomless canyon. Descending the sandy walls and ledges of the canyon was a bit tricky especially given that every step slid you directly towards the bottom as though someone tied a rock to your ankle. Given the 500 foot descent, straight down was not the way to go. Zig zagging through the sand we made it to a waist deep river bordered oh either sides by swwaying grass reeds at least 10-12 feet high. The scene would've looked complete had we had M-16 machine guns in our hands.
I hooked up with two of my tent mates, Giles Crosswaite and Richard Trice and we just went about the day together in a pack. Slow and steady we made our way the infamous salt flats. The best way that I can describe the salt flats is as though someone took all the water out of an ocean and just left the coral reef to run across. Oh, and 'flats' is probably the most cruel misnomer of all time. We trudged along fairly silently and determined barring the occasional expletive that would arrive after one of us caught a toe on one of the gazillion jagged edges sticking out, or if one us sunk through the salt to our knees.
All in all a good day albeit long and ranking damaging.
Right now I am writing this from an open canvas tent sitting literally on the banks of a massive salt lake nestled at the base of a steaming volcano. Pretty cool...if you get a chance Google 'Salt Flats, Atacama'.
There's so much to write but just not enough time so I hope that I'll be able to share some of the experiences later with everyone. I'm off to get my feet treated as I've earned 'worst blisters in camp' award. Trust me, not the award you EVER want to win.
All the best to everyone at home! Tomorrow is 76km or 45 miles across the desert...The Long March! Game time.
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