After a yummy scrummy dinner and me getting all ready for bed (6.30pm, it was getting late you know!) Stuart noticed a puncture in the rear right tyre. By morning, the tyre was as deflated as it could possibly get. The culprit – a sharp piece of scrap metal, object, thingy.
Now I would like to point out to all of you, that just because I had a great driving shift that day, changing gears, charging up gravel mountains and being all manual driver like, doesn’t necessarily mean the puncture occurred when I was in charge of the wheel. Then again it most definitely could have been, but that isn't really the matter of concern. What matters is, I am travelling with two super duper tyre changing pros’. I filmed the entire saga (thank goodness as I am useless with tyre changing, although now I have no excuse) while Five and Stuart got stuck into it – air jacks and all. It was pretty fun, however the freezing temperature of being so high up in the mountains was not. I had my big thick hiking (clean) socks jammed over my hands, and made it my sole responsibility to be in charge of making hot drinks. This also meant I could hover around the gas cooker and never took my hands off both sides of the boiling kettle – my heater-hog days and tactics came flooding back to me!
...We left the camp at 10.30am
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