Biking through the desert is bad, but dinner on the run proves worse
Isai Madriz left his home in Montgomery on Sept. 11, 2007 on a quest to bike the entire perimeter of Latin America and spread the word about the Jesus Guadalupe Foundation in St. Charles, which gave him a college scholarship. He recently arrived in Parral, south of Santiago, Chile, and has now pedaled nearly 8,400 miles on what he calculated would be a 25,000 journey all the way to Venezuela. Here is his first-person account of the most recent leg of his trip:
"After innumerable kilometers of Peruvian desert, I arrived at the anxiously awaited Chile. Hundreds of kilometers of vast solitude welcomes you to the country, and the only signs of life are vultures flying overhead and the occasional lizard.
The scenery didn't offer a single shadow to take refuge from the intense heat, so I had no other option than to keep on pedaling.
With enormous unpopulated distances and without places to stock up on my low water supplies, I looked for any sign of the vital liquid everywhere. All I could see were plastic bottles full of urine scattered alongside the highway.
On several occasions I was completely dry. At those times, I was forced to seek water from the small structures on the side of the highway that family members made for their loved ones and friends who died along the route.
Throughout the desert, I stopped seeing these structures as reminders of the place where someone died and started seeing them as a source of life.
I saw many windmills on both sides of the highway. I had never seen so many in the same place.
Every time I saw a house, I became excited since I knew that there would be water there. Several times, there wasn't anyone home and my thirst and desperation to drink something was so great that I climbed on the roof of the house like a monkey to get water from the water tanks.
Tired of the desert, I decided to go along the coast the first chance I got.
On one of those days I went in to bathe on the shores of the sea in a rocky area, and once again I ended up chasing after crabs.
This time the crabs were large and purple, more stupid and easier to hunt. I was able to trap a big one without much difficulty. This time I was equipped with a small camping stove I got in Peru, thanks to the donations I received from the staff of Reflejos, the Daily Herald, Javier Rios, and Scout and Laura Capps.
I decided to make myself a feast with rice to which I added some marine algae that grew on the rocks, to add a different texture. That night was the worst I have had in this trip to this day.
My body became covered with a rash which made me itch so intensely that I scratched until I bled.
I had intense nausea and mucus that made it difficult for me to breathe, chills, vomiting and strong muscular contractions throughout my body during the entire night. I began to become delirious and to imagine things. My mind, distorted, brought me back to my grandmother's house almost 20 years ago.
My cell phone didn't have any reception for me to call to seek help. The hours went by and between hallucinations, I thought only about how to keep my respiratory tract open if it started to completely close up. Finally, everything calmed down and I fell into unconsciousness.
The symptoms dissipated as the hours went by, but, although I didn't feel well, I had to keep on pedaling since once again I was without water. After 10 kilometers, I came upon a docked boat where I asked for water."
• To support Madriz during his trip, you can make a deposit into account 4440502733 of Washington Mutual Bank. To support Madriz's cause, mail a check made to the Jesus Guadalupe Foundation, 902 S. Randall Road, suite C-322, St. Charles, IL 60174. You can also visit www.isaimadriz.com.