As if I didn't climb enough on the way to El Cobre, the next 20 K or so were absolutely relentless. It was definitely slow and steady until Palma Soriano, there I managed to scarf down 2 mayo and bread sandwiches (hey, they were like 10 cents Canadian!!) and a couple of drink mix juices. A couple of guys hanging out the side of the road stand were all to interested in my bike and what the hell I was doing eating so fast. I chatted for a bit and then told them I had to take off cuz I was still thinking I could get to Bayamo that day. Leaving Alto Soriano, I started to hear that weird noise again...not good!! Another hill and I almost fall off my bike, not becuz I couldn't muscle it up (remember, I have a third chain ring) but because my chain sticks and will not let my pedals push the bike forward. Jumping off the bike and cursing, 2 men come along and offer assistance. Having been bilingual my whole life, I have a knack for always swearing in the opposite language, a good thing cuz the men would NOT have been impressed with my vocabulary that day. They took a look and the bike and said, "You should have this looked at". I almost replied, "Thanks Tips!!", but I smiled and said I had a spare chain if anything. They offered me some rum but I declined, not only because of the sun, but also because I know that country folk in Cuba tend to make their own versions of rum, and well, I wasn't going to chance it.
Just passed this hill I came across my first 'story book' fruit stand. Well actually I didn't get a chance to pass it cuz the fellas working there spotted me first and were calling out the the specials. I went and asked how much a mango would be. The young (cute) guy answered, "I can't sell you one mango". Having spent much time in Cuba I said, "Fine then, just give me one"...I was joking but he wouldn't take my money. We chatted for a long while, I was annoyed with the sun and my chain and wondering if I would indeed get to Las Tunas that day. I promised the fruit stand folk that I would be sure to stop there again in the future and was off. Not 10 K later, another fruit stand. This time I got free bananas...sometimes it pays to be a lone female traveler on bike. After the fruit stands, lots of VERY BADLY patched roads, so bad that you couldn't take advantage of the downhills, but it didn't matter, cuz I had energy. The rest of the ride got quite beautiful. Past the town of Contramaestre, the ride took a very positive down gradient turn. I was able to fly to the last food stand, the bus terminal in Jiguami. There I instantly remembered having stopped there 7 years prior on a bus trip out to Santiago. And there I was, me and my bike, a pork sandwich I was about to devour and yes, more juice crystals to drink. Back on the bike, the last bit into Bayamo, utterly flying and actually being a little recklass, squeezing between trucks and horse drawn carriages, holding a very fast speed, when all of sudden I see a guy commuting on his bike on the left and a truck verging forward on the right. "HOLD STEADY!!" I scream at him in my head, mostly cuz I know that Cubans drive their bikes like they're weaving through pylons. But at this point it's too late, he turns toward me and I have to tuck in really tight hoping my panniers won't side swipe him. I look down quickly and see a rock, manage to out maneuver it with my front tire but feel the bump on my back tire. I shoot the guy a look and continue to sail passed him until I feel the thumping I was hoping I wouldn't hear...a flat. I pull over and turn my bike to find the shoulder across the way. Pulling off the panniers, buddy pedals by and asks, "Can I help?"...my reply "Well seeing as I got a flat so I wouldn't run you over when you veered in front of me...sure!!". I was HOT, no shade and I was in a more transitted part of the highway so the heat coming off the trucks was even worse. Buddy tried to help me actually change the tire, but I was hot and asked him to just hold the bike, or tire, or tube. I commended him on the fact that he was in the mid-day sun with a black T-shirt and pants. He laughed. Then I got him to pose for my first flat, said thanks I was off.
That little break was enough to prove that I could handle riding the next 89K to Las Tunas. I mean I had only ridden 125K and even though there were hills and lots of bad road I still managed to average 24 K/hr. I know this isn't exactly fast, but trust me, the heat, the panniers, the road, the sun...it wasn't bad.
Pulling into the bus stop in Bayamo I had to call Ciego de Avila and let Richard and the gang know I would be arriving in Ciego a day early. Richard answers the phone and asks how the ride went and if I went back to the casa particular where Antonio's friends live. I explain that I want to ride on to Las Tunas. "How do you feel Gerry?" -Good. "Do you think you can do it?" -yes, "Are you at least going to rest?"- I don't know, but I gotta eat something. In the midst of this I get highlights from the Argentina-Germany game...the last time I called Argentina was up 1-0. Richard changed the subject but I didn't even notice. He tells me that he and Edilio are going to be in Camaguey to meet me so that we can all ride into Ciego together. How sweet. The boys sure do love their bikes and love to look after me. I say goodbye and promise I call when I get in to Las Tunas. My last words, "It's only another 89K, it can't take me THAT long". Famous words indeed.