11 May 2017. Bogota, Colombia

With all that new raingear, I decided to give the paramo another shot, this time on foot and with the boat. The perfect location was Sumapaz Paramo, which is the largest in Colombia and farther away from the watchful eyes of the Colombian Rangers. (many national parks prohibit hiking without a tour guide) Since my start got delayed by few days, everyday I went to the store and bought a little more food... the bag got heavier and heavier and oh well, looks like I will need to make this a 15+ day hike.

A nice bus took me to Gutierez where I waited for the green chiva for few hours. That turned out to be quite an exciting experience. Its one thing seeing them on the road and another to be inside. A man on a few drinks kept playing with a baby. The kids sat in the back with the potatoes and my bag and the "more" important people were at the front with the driver. We were going fast, stopping, talking to other cars and blowing the loud horn which sounded more like a train. Colombia doesn't have trains but it has Chivas.

It was 5 at the last stop, I really wanted to do some walking today so I went on. There is still 15km of road ahead before the trail.

It started raining and I eventually set up camp at one of the very few flat spots I can find. Thirty minutes later the ground was all wet and water was gathering where I was so I packed up and started walking. In the dark I found a little shelter but I would need to sleep sitting, so that was not ideal.

I walked 10 minutes up the hill and found a house. They said its ok to sleep under the overhang but when I returned with my heavy bag they showed me an empty room. Everything hung and drying.

In the morning I watched the family set up for breakfast using fire, boiling potatoes, coffee and grinding corn for arepas. They have some patches of potato fields and another vegetable whose name I forgot. Just enough pasture for their donkey and they like it here.

Some ups and downs on the road and I was starting to realize how heavy my bag is. With about two weeks of not biking and quite a while without walking I was feeble and weak! Maybe it's all these potatoes I am carrying.

Eventually I started seeing some people working on the fields and hanging out in front of their houses. Many told me I will get lost in the paramo, few told me that the bridge was gone but one said I need to go across the river, take a right at a house and cross another river.

I spoke with the men at the last house, one of them was up there in January on horses. He said I will get lost in the paramo. He also invited me to stay under the porch of the last house up the valley and back at his house on the way back, if I can't find the paramo. Who would think finding the paramo would be such a hard thing to do. But I had the instructions, trail, bridge, one house and the second one. Go straight up, more up and past the first palm tree. Then keep going up and near a small palm tree the road is near.

The alternative bridge, 3 small logs with a cable was rather scary. The logs were wet from the raging river and you could barely fit your feet on the bridge. I did two trips, second still with the bulk of the load on the big backpack. Turned out the camera wasnt recording. Sometimes I would do a repeat but not here. No.

I successfully managed to tarp myself when the rain started. Lots of breaks later and some rain I made it over to the house. Best part was rain water was dripping right off the roof. Its like having a sink! I think, what do they say, drink your water when it rains? I will need to do the climb in two trips due to the heavy backpack. So I can find the paramo on day 1 and come back then get up there on day 2. I cant tell you how glad I am to have a roof over my head. Out in this rain would have been bad and especially here where the land gets flooded. There were 0 good spots all day today that wont get flooded in the rain and the house sits few feet of the ground on rocks.

I took about half the stuff and headed up the pasture which got steeper as I progressed. One can wonder about the amount of work to remove the forest for it back in the day.

After few dead-ends I found the trail. Definitely glad I borrowed a machete, otherwise it could have been nearly impossible to cross some parts.

As the day progressed, hacking and slashing turned to ducking and pushing in favor of making better progress.

I had hoped to reach a shelter, 6 hours away and return back down but by 4 I just made it to the old house, rusted roof and falling apart but good enough for the rain. At 3200m and without my sleeping kit I would normally be in for a rough night but I had my boat and two old sheep skins. I don't think it is possible to camp in the rainy season here, everything is soaking wet.

I stashed the boat and my food, took an old pair of pants to protect my scratched. cut up and swollen feet. The climb can be separated into 4 sections. The steep pasture, the jungle trail, a short but blissful and generally good section of paramo and the valleyside bushwack.

Progress was much easier and route finding better, even without the map. I made it back by 3pm and that meant the rest of the day rest for another climb tomorrow. The trail, so far is well above any I have ever seen. The Continental Divide trail and the Canol seem like a walk in the park. Not sure if I will do another set of relay the day after tomorrow but we will see.

One more day and I had all the gear at the second cabin.

Although the pack was still heavy I knew there wont be any nasty climbs like in that pasure. I loaded up everything and took off. The trail for starters was absolutely amazing. No water to step in, no rocks to hop over and best of all no overhanging branches and plants to take you off your feet.

After some time in a valley the trail took up along a ridge. Me, thinking I can outsmart the red dotted line on the map and find a better way up... this ended up in struggling for footing on all fours up the steep paramo, as the end of the valley - shown smooth on the topo map was actually a cliff and fairly impassable.

The hawks or eagles took a keen interest in me, cruising right overhead almost as if they would swoop down.

The topographic map barely does this any justice. A small hump can be a 200+ meter climb. The whole terrain is quite unforgiving and you are often going up and down on grades beyond your wildest imagination.

A happy camp in the fading sun and clear sky. I still set up the boat under the tent in case, which was a good idea - it poured all night.

I couldn't really believe the trail, it showed to run right across these peaks. (right where the second patch of fog sits from the right)

That section concluded that the trail, although at one time traveled by horse and mule was now only for silly people on foot. I scrambled up the ridge pulling plants and grass, promising that I will not return this way.

Amid the rain I kept losing the trail, a well worn set of singletracks led away to the left side of the valley but I did not dare follow it and instead went after faint trails until they all eventually disappeared and I was just sidehill bushwacking through the valley.

After much hustling I reached an old shed with a fireplace, some matresses and a fence. Some cows roam in the area, not sure how often the owners check on them.

From there it was familiar terrain to the magical cabin by the lake where I hope to spent several days fishing, hiking and trying to write a book. It took 7 days to get here after all.

First day was house improvement project, I turned the rather dirty room into a very livable condition, maybe I should start charging rent! I only used two nails on the table for if the owners have other plans.

There was always good food for dinner, a lunch and good breakfast. The heavy bag is paying off.

a friends from America gave me this little book, I wonder if anybody would ever read about the story of Buck and his adventures into the lands far away, the lands of bent trees and midnight sun.

On one calm day I fished. Pretty cool but the fish were tiny and with my not-so-sharp knife it felt like a whole lot of effort for just a few.
give a man a fish, he will eat for a day
teach a man how to fish, he will complain the fish is too small

It poured most of the time, really poured. Turning grass into bog and crating rivers and streams all over the place.

my lakeside trail turns into a creek on a rainy day

A green humming bird cleaned out the flowers on the front few times a day and a red bird also hung around often, i think it has a nest inside the cabin.

On a partly clear day I headed up to Nevado del Sumapaz but the clouds did not want to lift from the peak, I went half way and then back, looking at the 3-lake valley of the roaring water.

It was a pretty good deal, good source of water, fishing, a lake and roof overhead. It's been about 7 days and low on food I headed out with some rare sunshine.

The one river crossing was challenging as usual with the stronger current of the rainy season.

Further up I half-regretted not staying to climb the peak nearby but maybe another time.

Nevado Sumapaz to the left and clear views to the plains beyond, probably!

A group of 4 came around a pass. Ironically enough I told them that they will lose the paramo trail but I said not to worry, its to the left of the river. They were on a 4-day trek to the peak. First they thought I was geologist with the fishing rod cover on my pack then they just thought I was crazy.

Clear day with views for miles and you cant help but dream of some long ridge-walking but you know that the sun and the calm is only for a little bit. It can get ugly anytime.

Trail was proper trail and there was no more guess work, nothing like the crazy one from Gutierrez where I climbed, although you often wonder if you can make it down one of these big valleys.

A nice camp near a stream and dry ground is all you need. There was even a little sunset and I watched every last bit of it until it faded into the dark and into the cold mist. I could hear an owl at night, maybe I am going crazy - are there owls in the paramo?

Having met the bus driver at a small roadside hostel few months back, I figured bus for Bogota should be going around noon so I had time to cross few ridges and look at the birds.

At the road I met with the welcoming comittee and two well-fed dogs stayed to keep me company

it wasn't until an hour after I got to the junction that I saw the camouflaged army tents just around the bend, it was the High Mountain Batallion! They told me it's sunday and there is no bus today... Unlike at their base, they did not want their photos taken but they had no trouble handing me a loaded grenade launcher instead. Nothing can lead back to them, if anyone asks - it's the gringo guerrillas!

They are all professional soldiers and took 30 minute shifts waiting with me for a car. After some 15 days without talking to anyone it was great to chat a bit. They pay them 2 million pesos said one - now it's okay but before when there was war it was not really worth it. Another man 20 years in service had seen it all and the worst of the civil war. I was treated to a big army lunch while waiting what a treat! I need to start cooking rice and lentils.

No empty cars passed but the soldiers made sure to stop the few that did, they even tried to negotiate passage into with a full ambulance. Eventually I got a ride back to Bogota with a German and a Marine Biologist! A marine biologist!!! Too bad with my limited spanish I could not figure out what question I wanted to ask her.

and by now I really start missing the bike, it is still waiting at Manizales after nearly a month's break but my passport expires in less than 15 days to whether I like it or not I will need to finally head toward Ecuador... Maybe...