This is Stuart. (He looked like a Stuart…we think. Though, come to think of it, he never actually responded to the name Stuart. Maybe his name was Rod?) In any event, he followed us for 4 days for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Maybe he liked our mildewy hue. We didn’t have any food or water for the little fella, but he must have found what he needed…by murdering rabbits. We learned to love him and his determination and his jumping on your waist as soon as you exited the tent. Seriously, I shed a tear when we had to leave him with the Argentine border dudes to become a sheepdog because he was obviously never going to make it home again after we had led him into the wilderness.
The point of all of this babbling is that we, (pause for effect) are about to say goodbye as well. The Conbigotes Prayers of Wind Direction will have absolutely nothing more to talk about in 3 days after we complete this goddamn thing. Maybe we will have some final tallys, some uninteresting photos and “thank yous,” but all in all that will be about it.
I don’t know whether to be excited or sad. Honestly. I sit here and can’t figure it out. It’s 7am, 150 miles from the bottom of the earth and the end of more than a year on the bike trying to get here…and I don’t know how I feel. I do know this fourth cup of coffee just made me feel fairly sick.
The one thing I am sure about is that I miss that son of a bitch, Stuart.