We woke up this morning and decided to take advantage of the river access for the bi-annual bathing of the bikes. The last time the grit, grime and gunk was banished was at Mike & Heidi’s house in California. The bikes emerged from the river a bit cleaner, with the physiological benefit of being lighter, however imperceptible.
We continued along through groves of palm trees and passed a palm oil processing plant. Like any chemical processing plant there are seemingly miles of piping, exhaust vents and holding tanks. Two clues gave the plant’s purpose away — the smell of vegetable oil and the mountains of spent fruit husks.
The mercury threatened to pop out of the top of the thermometer. Between the baking sun, ambient temperature and the heat radiating back from the asphalt, I was soaked through with sweat. Nothing was dry on me. I could feel my toes pruning in my damp socks.
We found a beach side lunch spot in the shade. The breeze coming off of the ocean was warm but still cooler than being on the road. Coconut trees surround us but their fruit was well beyond our reach with the exception of one tree. I was able to use our bear bag throw line (which doubles as our laundry line) to snag four. They were mature nuts and together yielded only about a liter of water but provided a bumper crop of meat.
Besides eating the delicious meat we also improvised peanut butter and coconut sandwiches, while probably not Iron Chef worthy, there were definitely tradable for at least a Twinkie and a Little Debbie Nutty Bar in any middle-school lunch room.