November 18, 2016 Cartagena, Colombia
Day 1: I didn't stick around to see the city or go to the beach, I went straight out of town in hopes of higher elevation and cooler nights. Cartagena is apparently one of the busiest tourist places here but all I will remember is the dusty streets and all the honking. There are many things up in the air and I really don't know what the plan is for Colombia but for now I head to Cali to meet Gabor, who borrowed Rubber Duckie (the packraft) to paddle over the Darien Gap... twice. There are few more things in the planning but I only have 20 days to get there.
anybody know if any tire manufacturers produce tires for mixed terrain? Like tires that maintain grip on plastic bags and are resistant to glass, cans, bottle caps and bathroom tiles? :)
I was riding down on what I later found out was the Panamerican highway, all traffic was nice but the noise was just too much. I rode with headphones blasting, always keeping an eye out for the passing trucks. It makes you wonder in what state of mind one needs to be to attempt to pass in impossible places.
"which came first, the chicken or the egg", Colombian edition.
1. Was the garbage here first, then they put up the sign in it?
2. Was the garbage here, then they cleaned it and then put up the sign and then somebody threw more out?
3. Did they just put up a sign and then all the garbage came?
4. ???
Day 2. Well, I think I broke my hand. I was right on the edge of the road and the front tire slipped off, landing on my left hand with fingers stretched out. I decided to get it checked out, finding an ATM that works in this town was impossible 2 rounds of the 4 machines... no luck. Then the quest to find a wi-fi so I can use google hangouts to call my bank, a liquor store said they had one and I sat on the street infront squinting at the screen and waiting for 10minutes on hold, it was kind of an interesting moment. I could watch everybody pass by and carry on their business and nobody was staring at me, as is the case when I ride in somewhere. Nothing wrong with my bank, so I went to the police station to ask if there is anywhere I can change some american dollars but we spotted another ATM on the way. At the hospital, I was moved around quite a bit but got the x-ray done, doc says its good but then with sign language, she tells me that I am going to get an injection in the butt for the swelling. Priceless. The whole ordeal was $40 and looks like I will ride with one hand for few days.
one of the badass ranch workers waiting by the highway
Day 3. By now I am getting sick and tired of the highway and getting cheap hotel rooms and I can't stand the heat. At a town, I buy a 6L bag... yes, 6L plastic bag of water and pack the empty container in my backpack to remind me that I can't do this again. I finally get a chance to go on a dirt road and as the sun sets, I go to the nearest ranch and ask if I may camp.
Francisco and Elsi have lived here for 40 years and grow most of their own food. To earn money they sell produce and meat at the market. They told me that they drink the ground water but it's not good for me... I ended up drinking some of it, so we will see how that goes. They tell me there is no road where I want to go and that I need to go back to the highway but after I explain to them that I like the dirt roads and trails and they see that I am a little crazy, they agree. They tell me to be careful with the gurellas near Cali, I thought there was a peace agreement signed, we'll see about that too.
The dogs on the other hand were being difficult. One would lick the salt off my hand but back up and bark if I reach to pet her. Soon enough patience paid off and we are best friends. I was also very glad to have a conversation other than "where are you from/where are you going" and to be the one asking the questions as well.
As I slide into my tent and listen to the bugs, frogs and the distant cows.
Day 4. In the morning I got the rundown of this place, milk the cows, feed the chickens, feed the fish, breakfast. Its quite nice to be out here but its so, so hot. We say our godbyes and I am off on the dirt roads, chasing the milk trucks... err.. milk motos...
got milk?
this cow is a good listener, why pay for a shrink when you can get the same service just one fencehop away!
all these get filled with milk at some point
At noon I fill up a bottle of tap water and filter it infront of a curious group of people, all wearing that a "you're going to die" facial expression. I continue and as the sun sets I stop at the nearest house. Hoping a fence and setting up in a pasture won't be so difficult but you would always be in sight of the road or a house so it's better to just ask. Freddie invited me straight away, we listen to a long talk by the president of Colombia in regards to the newfound peace and eat te typical yuca, rice and cheese dinner.
Day 5. I wake up to a grumpy puppy snoring away and pack up as fast as I can to beat the heat. Freddie tells me to go back to the highway, "it's dangerous here." After some more talking he tells me there is a road to where I want to go, I really wonder if people here dont think the dirty gringo can handle riding the rocky roads.
"no... don't put this on instagram..."
these green oranges are quite the work to get peeled but are very delicious!
The road withers out into a singletrack and the best part: there are bridges.
Ranch to ranch, pasture to pasture I dodge cowshit and look at birds and cows and horses. It's really hot. I am happy.
Eventually I see a car but that road is soon gone and I am checking out multiple dead-ends and asking people for directions. By some sign language, I see that I need to cross a river, waist deep but first there is some mud...
right when the mud and cowshit passes the knee mark is when the adventure begins
A random police check point on a dirt road stops me.
"Quanto?" -how much?
"Quanto, que?" -how much what?
I laugh and utter few words of english. Was he asking for money, why? He then asks for my passport and when I take it out he walks away, another guy looks at the middle of it where there is nothing... and hands it back.
"It's a tourist," he says, I take 'crazy' a compliment but for some reason 'tourist' kind of offends me.
What was that all about?
Once I hit the pavement, it turns out the rear hub is no good. Very ominous crackling and grinding, I rode on wondering if I may be damaging this permanently.
I get to a town in the morning and over 2 cookies I wait out the rain in Subway. Nobody enters the shop for 2 hours, no surprise - Colombian food is so delicious and cheap and I do not see why anybody would pay double or triple for the "american" experience. Around that next town I stop at a bike shop and we all manage to take apart the hub, the bearings are okay but the axle cone is a little ground down, hub body looks good. We repair it, $2... for the whole thing and a new axle.
After some rain, I find the most amazing food stall. Take this: Fried cheese... with butter and more cheese sprinkled on top. I really regret not riding back to get a dozen of those.
Top Chef Colombia, Hell's kitchen, you name it - this guy will crush it! Hell, he should even run for president!
Finally at the base of the mountains, big climb ahead. Lots of police posing near the road - celebrating the peace and something about "demilitarization". I feel sorry for the guys - they have to wear all this stuff in this hot, hot weather.
Trucks pass around blind corners and if opposing traffic approaches they sneak back into the line, feels like it has been going on for a while and downhill traffic is very understanding of that.
All day of buzzing and engines and all night too, I stay at a roadside motel, $6. People living right next to the road have to endure this all the time, all that is between is some bricks, woodboard or even just a piece of plastic...
this is pretty much right on the edge of the road ditch, nice to see people make use of bottles and caps here
as I was going up in granny gear this dude flew on a fencepost to talk to me
Kids pass me on bmx bikes and holding onto the back of trucks, I too grab on for a little bit when I can before my hand starts hurting too much or we go around an unsafe turn. Whenever they see me, the kids ride down to me and start doing wheelies without saying a word.
I take a day off at Yarumal, at 2300m I feel human again and best of all - I am not next to that highway.
I ride out in the morning and manage to get a hold of a slow truck, good shoulder ensures that I can make it at the cost of possibly injuring my hand on which I fell even more. With the painkillers they gave me it has been okay but I really wonder if this would need some proper rest at some point. We crest out at 2600m and I wave at the guy, I don't think he saw me.
At a shop I stop for coffee, Colombian instant coffee! Alberto is driving to near Cartagena and passing much of what I've ridden over the last week or so. That container on his truck is only held on by a strap... how crazy is that. Both him and the shop owner are super excited to talk to me, he hands me few potatoes and the shop owner few tomatoes and some sweet fruit. Alberto takes off but the woman is asking me to wait, after some 10 minutes her son comes and we talk and I am off.
look at that container! crazy!
Despite the horrific state of my breaks, the short time and the much needed repairs I decide its best to hit the dirt.
puppy does not approve of my breaking system
Nothing against pavement, it's just... much more peaceful and a day out there counts as a couple on the tarmac, in my opinion.