"Shoooooot", I've forgotten oats! Antoine and I had cycled just out of Cochrane to wild camp for the evening, before setting off properly the next day, and despite oats being at the top of the list, I'd completely forgotten them. I blamed my slightly spaced out post fall and caffeine fueled combo state... or just having a totally blonde moment.

Until that point, I hadn't planned to join for the detour trip to Tortel as I'd heard such mixed things. But now, I was joining and aiming to buy oats (what's become the staple breakfast!).

It was a curious town in some ways and despite the painfully bumpy road in, I was glad I went - filled with boardwalks, everything tucked away and feeling like there was a chunk we hadn't seen, a hive of tourists and not many locals left.

While we were walking around the town the heavens opened. After hiding in the only cafe open, we headed back down the road with all fingers and toes crossed. Selfishly hoping that the only shelter we'd found wouldn't already be snapped up by other desperate looking cyclists.

We arrived to see people in the forest across from it chopping wood. We quickly learned that they didn't own the land but had a relationship with the owner, and they were sure he wouldn't mind. We waited until it seemed ok to start making ourselves at home and suss how we could start building walls with the bits of corrugated iron that was lying around, and anything else we could find.

Next thing we knew, one of the guys helped nail a couple of bits with us and kindly left his hammer and more nails for us. The result... tent outer opened up and corrugated iron walls. We had a shelter for the night and woke up totally dry!

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