One of the locals in Catavina told me a bit more about the Italian man that went missing for 6 days. (Details in a previous posting) He had been staggering around aimlessly looking for his way back to the road after he got fatally lost looking for paintings in caves that Jesuit settlers had lived in hundreds of years ago.

I asked this person to take me up to the caves. I can´t understand why the 38 year old school teacher from Rome would have gotten lost in the first place. There is a clear trail from the parking area all the way to the caves. In fact you can see a clearly visible sign from the parking lot. It took me 5 minutes to walk up the trail.

My new friend told me that for $5 he could have hired a guide, but didn’t want to pay the money. Had he dropped into the police station I am sure the officers would have helped him.Either way, I cant understand how he could have gotten so easily lost and drifted 6km inland when the roar of the highway can be heard a long way off. It all sound of a classic case of panic to me. The third anniversary of this tragedy is today, 7th July.

Later I dropped around to the station. Like every police station I have been to in Mexico the police are doing a great job with their limited resources. Most stations barely have running water or a functioning toilet. Often they have limited communications, here no telephones, just radio.Much of this area has no power, so most buildings are fitted with solar panels, or just do without power.

We loaded up a large water tank and hose into the back of their patrol truck and drove over to a water well. Most of the towns folks get their water from here. Today we would be doing a community service to a very elderly couple that do not have the facilities to haul the water or pay the $5 a local entrepreneur charges for the service.

Francisco and his wife were delighted. They invited us inside their very basic house for coffee, much of our time there was spent chasing away the endless amount of nuisance flies. Over coffee Francisco told me he once  had it made trading precious stones all over the world. He had lived in London for 4 years in the seventies before being exposed to some very bad deals which results in him and his wife spending the rest of their lives living in squalor, but they seemed happy and contented to me.

I had given Jose Luis and Rafael my worn out 14th pair of running shoes as a souvenir. I even signed them.

I GAVE RAFAEL AND JOSE LUIS MY 14TH PAIR OF SHOES. ON THE ELDERLY COUPLES RANCH

 Their friend Sorrell and her assistant who run a restaurant had invited us over for breakfast and dinner that day. After dinner we filled up the patrol truck with petrol bought at the side of the road from a local man called Laley.

It is about 100km each way to the nearest petrol station so some people like Laley make a decent living selling it at a premium amount, about 50% above the normal rate. I would imagine even at such a price that the sight of one of these guys at the side of the road with their assortment of cans and tanks is a Godsent to out of fuel drivers. Laley has to obviously haul it himself and then stand out in the scorching sun all day but it seems many people are far from thankful, preferring to give him dogs abuse.

Next day, Monday, 4th July I wanted to run a big total and dedicate it to my many friends north of the border. Jose Luis and Rafael dropped me back to where I left off the day before my rest day.

I was feeling great as I ran on. It was just after 5am. A beautiful cool, fresh morning. After about 15km we met up with Martin and Pablo from the next district. They would take over escort services now. I had become very close to Jose Luis and Rafael, two wonderful people and once again, the hard part, the departure.

So I ran on another 10km with my two new friends Martin and Pablo driving about 10 meters behind me. We stopped at a restaurant owned by Eugenio, one of their friends. I could tell Eugenio enjoys company and conversation, he was very interested in my run and breakfast was on the house. I could only eat half of it so the other half was packed up for the road.

Out on the road, my arms and legs were pumping like super efficient pistons, I was really feeling strong. I was thinking of breaking my run record of 68km for my American friends.

Another 22km and it was still late morning. I had 47.2km in the bag when I stopped for lunch. It was warm that morning but I was managing well. I wonder if I am becoming accustomed to the heat now. So I sat out in the back of the patrol pick up for lunch of my left over breakfast and a thermos of delicious tortilla soup Poly the waiter of the Hotel Mison Catavina had saved for me.

Just then it started raining, slight at first, then thunder, lightening and eventually heavy rain.

We sat in the truck for a long time as the rain hardened. I had no inclination to go out running in this, even though I will surely be caught out in the rainy season, due soon. Even just getting to my next km marker to finish the day would have meant a terrible unnecessary soaking. I had 47.2k chalked up for the day. So with the whole afternoon ahead of me, 21km short of a certain record, I disappointingly called it a day. Martin bravely jumped out and stuck 2 empty cola bottles under a rock to mark my finish position which was just 200m beyond Km 266.

The lads commutted me back to their police station in Punta Priesta a little over 40km away.

I was introduced to Juan Manuel Torres-Arce, the Jefe, pronounced Hay-Fay, or boss. I signed a few autographs! No getting away easy here with just one or two names, everyone here proudly gives at least 4 names and no omissions are allowed!

Next to the station there was a half constructed house which was to be mine for the next two nights. There was a big table and a mattress inside the door and windowless building. I climbed up on that table at around 4pm and crashed out for almost 11 hours as I had not slept at all the night before due to the heat. This was Heaven.

Next day I was escorted in turn by Martin, Pablo and another officer called Jose.

After an enjoyable 42km I ran into Punta Prieta and waiting outside the station for me was the editor of the peninsulas only newspaper, El Vigia. He had just driven over 500km from Ensenada with a photographer and a journalist! Three of them when surely one would have been enough! I told them how much I was enjoying myself, how good the police, Green Angels and the Mexican people are. A few other basics and the just upped and left after taking 2 pictures of me running holding a copy of El Vigia! I ran on another 14km and was joined by Jaime who followed in his Green Angels truck. I finished with almost 56km today and was driven back to my house again.

Wednesday morning I made it out onto the road at 5.15am. I was a bit sluggish for the first couple of hours as it was a tough hilly morning.

Pablo was my escort, on the passenger seat he had placed his rifle. I ran with him for 35km, stopping in Rosarito to buy a gallon of orange juice, most of which I downed on the spot in half an hour. Yesterday I drank about 5 litres of soda and about the same amount in water.

We came to a military checkpoint, I ran right through once the commanding-officer spotted me he waved me on. He had obviously been informed as Alberto a police officer from Villa Jesus Maria department was waiting for me.

While we were transferring Nirvana and my vast collection of water bottles a kind man gave each of us a cold bottle of water. I ran up a couple of very steep hills before the road disintegrated. The surface was very bad for fast running and then it was gone as we were directed onto a sand trail for about 2km due to the road works.

Two motorbikers from Washington state had bike trouble in the sand. Ahead in the distance I spotted a Green Angels truck. The Angels are also expert mechanics and assisting broken down motorists is part of their remit. I reckon they were coming out to escort me but as I had Alberto I advised the driver about the broken down Americans.

About an hour later I got to km marker 80 which was 50 for my day. the bikers flew by and waved. The Angel told me they just needed a minor adjustment to their break which he was able to do.

Alberto commuted me to Villa Jesus Maria where I showered in a prison cell. My room for the night would be in the dining room, thankfully!

Alberto brought me down to a restaurant owned by a very nice lady called Paulina. One of the diners there, a truck driver hauling tyres bought me my steak dinner

I am back in the police station now typing this update on their computer. The officers are a nice bunch.

The adventure rolls on.. I can´t believe I am doing this, being escorted through Mexico and enjoying it so much. Today I looked back at Pablos patrol truck with its flashing beacons as I ran effortlessly up those hills. Never in my wildest of dreams did I expect to be having these kind of adventures, in travel books they were of someone else, now they are mine. I am living my dream and intend to hold onto it for every mile.

LIVING MY DREAM THE HARD WAY

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