The Peruvian Pedal: Dia de la quemadura.

Today has been a simple day. Free of adrenaline, conversation, or money. I've had a lot on my mind recently. Constant thought regarding the adventure and planning of travel, the realization that I still have goals in progress in the states, and the continual wonders of life. Waking early this morning, I had to cancel my eight hour ride due to muddy trails, caused by the tumultuous rain that triumphed the night. While this would normally bum me out, I looked forward to a day of thought. The sort of day where the mind is let free, able to pick and choose it's destination without being encumbered. Toward the end of the morning, the rain had completely ceased. The sun came out, the clouds slowly dissipated, and the heat began to set in. While the rain had stopped, the trails would still be exceedingly wet and the hours needed for the ride were quickly diminishing. Both of those may have been true, although I may had already fallen for the idea of a simple day. The ride could wait for another day. Tomorrow to be precise.

None of the usual morning routine occurred today. I made no appearance in the Truman Show, the dank meat corner was free of my conversation, and one less plate of rice and eggs was consumed at the food stand. While eating a bowl of Zucosos (South American equivalent of frosted flakes), I spilled a bit of milk on the closed book sitting on my bed, which I'm currently reading. My girlfriend, Ashley, gave me this book as a gift right before I left the states. The original 1925 edition of The Law of Success, by Napoleon Hill. While it's meant to be a book you read slowly, reading small portions at a time in order to ensure digestion, it has been the only book I've had with me here. That being the case, I'm reading it in more of a steamroller fashion. Seeing my milk drizzles land on the book, I decided I would spend my day between it's pages.

With the temperature easily surpassing 80 degrees, I decided to take use of the rooftop bar area of the hotel. Taking off my shirt to enjoy the warmth of the sun, I began to dwell into the book. Throughout life, I've found myself reading in two extremely contrastive modes. The first mode involves being more aware of the page number than I am the content of the words I'm reading. This can occur while reading a boring chapter of a textbook, not wanting to admit it's a book I'm not truly interested in, or simply not being in the right mindset for reading at that particular time. When in the second mode, I'm often confused when I hit the next chapter or section. I'll even trace backwards through each page of the chapter with certainty that I accidentally skipped over some pages. In reality, this is simply becoming lost and/or consumed by a book. Today, my brain had put me in the second mode. I wasn't able to read as fast as my mind wanted the knowledge. Jumping from word, to sentence, to paragraph, to page, to chapter after chapter. With time flying by, I realized I'd been sitting out there for a while and decided to head back to my room for a snack and some water.

I tried to work on bikes for a while, however my mind simply wasn't there. I had the desire to read more and nothing else would satisfy my day. Grabbing my book, I headed out to the Plaze de Ollantaytambo. This is the main plaza/square in town. I slowly switched back and forth between reading and taking the time to simply think. I made a point to completely think through each thought that arose in my brain. While doing so, I witnessed a food purchase from a tourist through a window of a bus that was around ten feet off the ground. Additionally, I experienced the cold, yet rightful, feeling of telling a beggar "I work for my money". The lady made a throat-slitting gesture as she walked away, causing laughter from the locals on nearby benches. The book seemed to pass the time between each of these events. As I watched one of the local kids riding his bike, he reminded me of my brother, Jerry, growing up. The kid had set up two rocks on each end of the plaza and would ride circles around the plaza, jumping the rocks with each pass. I could picture Jerry doing this same thing for hours on end when we where younger. Although he probably would have had flames and explosives involved in it somehow. The kid's chain was extremely loose on his bicycle and, in my broken Spanish, I told him to wait five minutes for me to come back with the tool to fix it. I'm sure he understood what I was saying, but he was nowhere to be found when I arrived back at the plaza. I'll be sure to bring the tool every time I sit in the plaza now, waiting for his return.

Arriving back in my room, I immediately began to feel my skin tightening up. The tops of my legs felt as if plastic wrap was being used to package my skin, muscle, and bone into one mess. Looking at my legs, chest and arms, I saw they were already red. With years of sunburn experience under my belt, as well as above my belt, I knew it would become far worse with time. Beginning to pound water, I lotioned every area exposed to the sun in hopes of having all factors on my side. It's now hours later and I closely resemble a poinsettia on Christmas day. I'm 90% sure my legs will be blistering, and 100% sure the rest of my body will be peeling. Aside from my right shoulder, which I covered with sunscreen to protect my scar. I'll be guzzling down the water until I fall asleep, because regardless, I'm going on the ride tomorrow!

Note to self: Cover ENTIRE body in sunscreen if lounging, for the sun is not forgiving at 10,000 feet.