Not much left to show. My camera was still not recording any sensor data, and sometime, after the second river crossing on Day 3, I discovered that Pedro's camera battery had died.

Day 4

Wake-up at 0430 and a six-hour hike later we will eat lunch at the gateway restaurant and then will be driven back to our hostels. Yes, after being sick all night, for me that meant six hours more without food in my stomach, only water. I was weak, had cramps and after a while was lagging badly. Not one of my proudest moments. After two hours we chanced upon a fruit snack stop, but it wasn't ours. Pedro said to wait, but I asked the guy who ran the stop, and he gave me a green orange. So good and so refreshing. These stops are sometimes elaborate, but sometimes just palm leaves on a board in the jungle. After that I kept excellent pace with another group for the better part of an hour. Finally, a little over three hours later, we arrived at our scheduled stop. I can't believe I made it that far  - on an orange. You know, I haven't drank a soda in 15 years or longer.  For some reason I was fantasizing about an ice-cold Coke.  Weird, to say the least, but it gets even weirder. As I was sitting there, quite exhausted, enviously watching the kids come back in from a swimming hole, a girl walks in and asked if anyone would like a half a bottle of cold Cola. Hell yeah, I would. Pedro pushed me to get going,  insisting that he should take my pack. Keep in mind that these are day packs. I took my waterbottle and camera case out, that would have added a lot of weight. Then, after crossing one last cable bridge came the most incredible climb. 30 minutes of a near vertical ascent and we were finally on level ground. At the top there is a family who is running a rest stop. Hey, we flew past that on the way in. Their business is all about groups going back to the village where 4x4s are to pick us up and return us from whence we had come. I asked the lady of the house what she was selling and asked Pedro what he would like.  He knew exactly what he wanted, a Gatorade. Who knew that they were selling that stuff? After we both had one, contemplating the final 90 minutes of downhill walk, he asked me how I was doing. I pointed at my mid-section  and shook my head, but reached for my pack. He waved me off,  smiled and said 'moto'. Moments later the other part of the rest stop business became apparent,  when a couple of young guys rode up on their motorcycles. They had just come back from the village and dropped off other hikers. When we rode down, a hair-raising ride, BTW, naturally no helmets, other cyclists were coming up. So, sick as I was, I got to cheat the last 90 minutes. I know I could have made it, it was all downhill, but the ride, including a shallow water crossing, had its own appeal. Back at the restaurant there were others who had opted for the ride. When our whole group was back together, we were served dinner, which I gave away,  knowing of the very bouncy 4x4, hour-long ride out of the park to the coastal highway. Another hour after that, maybe a little less,  had me back at the hostel.