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Then another drop to another river crossing . The steep dirt road on the other side was criss-crossed with deep ruts filled with loose stones . I gunned it as soon as the wheels left the water , up and up and onto the grassy flat bit where Aidan was waiting . Ahead the intended road ended ; the only way onwards was up another steep slope . So , I bravely rode up there too , coming to a stop outside a small farm .
The farmers approached with a bemused look on their face , wondering what we were doing here . They pointed at the red truck we had passed earlier , now clearly visible across the valley . We had to go back that way . My heart sank , in that direction the roads up from the river crossings were even steeper and there was no way my bike would make it . But there was no other way . We had to unload the bike and carry the luggage uphill ourselves .
Gasping for oxygen I reloaded my bike at the top as Aidan went back for his . Suddenly his engine cut out , meaning he must have crashed . I ran back . Luckily , he was on his feet and just needed help lifting the bike . By the time we reached the red truck , we were completely exhausted . The farmers had watched from across the valley and waved us off , happy that we ’ d made it .
We were almost sad to leave the adventure , but it had been enough for one day and we were glad when the main gravel road turned to tight tarmac twisties . Google found us at Niquitao , but we pushed on to Bocono , where a common power cut forced us to eat dinner by torchlight . As we loaded up in the morning , a twenty-something couple stopped to welcome us to Venezuela and ask if we needed anything , almost disappointed when we declined .
The first petrol station of the day had a long queue of cars doubling up and blocking the road . As suspected it was a car day and they sent us on to the next one , so we squeezed past . The next petrol station had sold out , the queueing drivers waiting for a delivery . The third place finally had some petrol for us , and we were free to ride back into the mountains .
This time Google Maps knew of the road , but it still insisted we stick to the highway in the lowlands . We soon found out why . The road became so neglected and damaged , no car would make it through . Landslides were cleared just enough to let motorcycles pass , rocky river crossings had us splashing up fountains and some sections were entirely missing , replaced by dirt with potholes so big , we rode all the way in before climbing back out the other side .
On a motorcycle this was loads of fun , and the scenery was
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