The Peruvian Grind: Handcycling across the Americas

We rode single file and couldn’t talk for the road noise. No beautiful scenery, no human interaction, nothing to distract from the unending repetition of pulling ourselves across the desert, one rotation of the cranks at a time. Kelly and Jared were stopped just ahead. When I reached them Kelly was ready to keep moving, but she saw Jared’s face, flushed and fatigued, when she looked back to me.