After a day of doing absolutely nothing in Pereira we headed to the pretty tourist spot of Salento, a short but (inevitably) up hill ride away. We liked Salento well enough but it seemed to be struggling with the amount of tourists that now visit and possibly isn’t the same place it was a few years ago, this being said we went for a beautiful walk up the Cocora Valley…through farmland, cloud forest and majestic wax palm plantations, it was refreshing to use our legs in a different way.
As we were preparing to leave the next day two guys from the hostel were enquiring about our route and on discovering we were planning to climb up to ‘La Linea’ (Quite literally, ‘The Line’, the top of the spine of the Andes) over the mountains warned us against it…we set off debating whether or not the climb was a good idea. On reaching the town at the bottom of the hill we asked a mountain biker if there was a way up the hill without using our legs and he proceeded to take us round the town searching for appropriate transport..which turned out to be a large red truck. Riding in this was an interesting experience…the road was very busy with big lorries and buses and everyone was trying to overtake furiously…we were glad we weren’t cycling the relentless hill and battling with the traffic but the journey squashed into the truck wasn’t particularly comfortable…eventually we were deposited in the misty, cold world at 11,000ft. We felt a little apprehensive starting the descent in the cold gloom but hats and gloves on and off we went, spending the next few hours stuck behind huge lorries going slowly round the steep hairpin bends. As we descended the heat grew and we were soon stripping off the layers as we reached the valley at the bottom, disappointed to be hot again.
The dry heat continued as we descended further the following day, making our way to the ‘Desierto de Taticoa’. We felt that we just hadn’t had our fill of desert in Baja! We hit an unexpected 20mile dirt road section through the desert and although spectacular and quiet, it was hot and hard and the dry heat meant a never ending thirst and dry mouth, I found the constant sinking and sliding in the soft gravely sand very difficult and was pushing up a steep slope when a truck stopped and asked if we wanted a lift. There was only about 4miles to go but 4miles less to cycle was good with me…Sam begrudgingly agreed to accompany me and we sat on top of the truck clinging onto ourselves and our belongings for a rather bizarre and bumpy ride to the paved road. We waved the friendly Eduardo ‘adios’ and continued into the strange dry and rocky landscape of the desert proper. Famed for its spectacular stars and peace we were unlucky to find a cloudy Friday night, which meant no stars and noisy Colombians there for the weekend.
We have taken to having second breakfast regularly here in Colombia, food is cheap and there is an abundance of small restaurants to stop at, we also got another breakfast invitation from a local cyclist not long after we left our camp spot outside Gigante. Nicolai welcomed us into his home for eggs and coffee, he is not your average Colombian as he plays rugby and likes rock music…he does however love cycling and works in the coffee industry – very Colombian!
We struggled with the last few days to San Augustin…on our last day off we went for a long walk and then went straight into a 7 day riding streak…too much for our legs to handle. However, we were met with more Colombian kindness and hospitality which makes a massive difference to moral. We were accompanied by 70year old Jesus sitting in our slipstream for a good couple of miles, not sure how much riding he does with other people because he kept going into my back wheel but was very pleased to announce his age and be able to keep up. A young guy overtook us in a car and gave us water in a particularly hot up hill stretch, we then found him waiting further up the road with more cold water and words of encouragement. Finally on the last leg into San Augustin an elderly lady came down a narrow dirt track from her house wearing a woolly hat and grubby t-shirt and carrying a tray of coffee and sweet breads for us. Random acts of kindness.
We are now doing what we do best when we don’t cycle…eating and sleeping and allowing the legs to recover before the next onslaught of hills towards the Ecuadorian border. The cool mountain air of San Augustin is not a bad place to do this.
Out for a Spin 