Category: Colombia

It has been rather quiet on the cycling front recently….I have been ill, and then Sam was ill. Being sick away from home is never fun, especially when it stops you from doing exactly what the trip is all about – cycling and enjoying the adventure.

I can reassure you that cycling and sickness don’t go hand in hand. I had been battling with not feeling 100% for a few months and after our tough ride to San Agustin my body shut down and we ended up staying in for a week. Sam entertained himself by going up and down the hill as fast as possible and I spent my time in bed with Harry Potter.

We eventually left but the two days ride to Mocoa were torture for me. I was weak and useless and cycling was tough but we had to get there and through a fair amount of pushing, lots of tears, gritty determination and enormous patience on Sam’s part we arrived in Mocoa to seek medical assistance. What is so disappointing about being ill is that I didn’t enjoy the ride, a ride on a quiet road in beautiful scenery should have been a pleasure.

When travelling you often have to decide whether or not to trust people…it is an instinct thing. We asked for help in finding me a doctor and then put our complete trust in the hotel owner as she roped in a Nurse friend, took me to a lab for tests and provided appropriate medication. With limited knowledge of the Colombian health system and limited Spanish to help us we had no option but to follow blindly as someone injected my bum, another took blood from my arm and another diagnosed my illness. All I can say is that we picked the right hotel when we arrived in Mocoa!

We were looking forward with slight apprehension to riding the ‘Trampolina de el muerte’ (trampoline of death) – a notoriously dangerous dirt road over the mountains from Mocoa towards Pasto. The road is well known among cycle tourists and we were keen to follow suit. Unfortunately, just walking up and down the stairs left me tired and there was no way I could manage it. Feeling like caged animals in Mocoa we had to find another way over the mountains and after a huge amount of debate we took a pick up truck and conquered the trampoline in a different, far less rewarding and comfortable style. It was a spectacular trip, if not a little scary with sheer drops, loose gravel and rivers to forge, all at the hands of somebody else. The surrounding mountains held the tell tale scars of rock slides among the otherwise inprenetrable forest…reminding us what a volatile environment we were in. The road was no exception with parts sliding off and others recently cleared from falls. We passed our Belgian friends on bikes and stopped to talk with them…part of me wishing I was out there with them, part of me thanking my lucky stars I wasn’t…all of Sam was itching to jump out of the window and join them in the thick of it.

Sibundoy was dull and cold and we left the next day on bikes. I got all of 8miles and discovered I couldn’t go on…so flagged down a pick up and left Sam to cycle alone. I found a small restaurant roasting guinea pig on a stick and this is where I sat for the 3 and a half hours while Sam battled the hill to meet me. Also not feeling 100% he began to regret his decision to carry on. The slope steepened and his power waned, a truck stopped as he was pushing his bike and offered to pull him on a rope…great idea. In desperation he agreed and described the experience as ‘the most scared he has ever been’, he bellowed at the driver to stop as it was impossible to control the bike as the truck picked up speed. Luckily his shouts were heard and Luis released him from the terrifying experience. However, the surge of adrenaline provided a new lease of life for Sams legs and the rest of the hill seemed less arduous. When he turned up to meet me he was blue with cold and exhausted – I vowed never to let him out of my sight again.

We then continued together to the shores of Laguna de Cocha. We struck lucky when turning up at a hotel that there was no way we could afford but being welcomed to camp in their spacious grounds. The following evening we were asked to accompany the owners daughter and husband in their cabin for dinner and a bed. It’s amazing what a log fire, good cheese, homemade bread, intelligent conversation and a warm bed can do for a couple of ailing cyclists!

We left the peace and tranquility of the lake and both managed (and enjoyed) the 20mile ride over the hill to Pasto….a big city that we decided looks at its best after dark. Here we will rest again before heading towards Ecuador.

Illness on a bike is debilitating….illness on a bike in the Andes is another thing altogether, but it’s onwards and upwards!

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.

After much thought, debate and careful calculations we decided we would take a bus from Cartagena to Medellin. We would not make it to Lima in the allotted time without superhuman effort. Taking a bus with bikes is not necessarily a simple process, the frantic ride to the bus station in Cartagena made us realise that South America is a whole new level of chaos when it comes to city traffic. Motorbikes and scooters were weaving in and out of cars, hopping onto the pavement if necessary. Buses and taxis were looking for fares and paying little or no attention to others…we had no option but to follow suit and delve into the chaos. The bus took 15hours instead of 12 and we arrived bleary eyed in the morning in the middle of another scary Latin American city. We were not filled with enthusiasm for the ride to the hostel having seen several accidents from the window of the bus on the way into the city. But we were in luck, it was Sunday and ciclovia…which meant that one of the main roads was shut to traffic and open for bikes and pedestrians…and a wonderful experience it was too.

Medellin was spectacular and enormous in a huge Andean valley. We had deposited ourselves into one of the biggest mountain ranges in the world and the only way was up!

We left Medellin for the countryside and climbed out of the city, we turned onto a quiet country road and were grappling with the vertical incline when a mountain biker came down the hill, asked where we were heading and said the route that we were taking was impassable by bike. Ricardo was very friendly and we were inclined to trust him and his local knowledge so retraced our steps down the steep hill we had just struggled up. Ricardo then invited us to his house for second breakfast, which of course we accepted. We were struggling a little with the language barrier so he rang his son who rang his mate Carlos and we all went to a bar down the road for some translation!! More friendly Colombians to point us in the right direction and send us on our way.

We cycled up a spectacular valley and when we got tired and it got late we stopped at a restaurant and asked if we could sleep there, the rain arrived just in time for some sympathy and we slept on the floor of the restaurant in the dry. We left early the next morning for a day of uphill…and it really was up, we climbed 5800ft in 35miles and were both exhausted by the time we arrived in the picturesque town of Jardín. The ride was really beautiful and the higher we climbed the more spectacular the view became as we pedalled our way through verdant countryside with endless rows of coffee plants dotting the steep slopes.

A day off in Jardín consisted of hopping from cafe to cafe and enjoying the good coffee and spectacular surroundings. The Andes are not for the faint hearted and we left Jardín to climb up again, stopping at a passion fruit factory for an impromptu tour on the way. They supply passion fruits to Sainsburys! After stocking up on free tropical fruit the paved road ended and gave way to gravel and stones, it was incredibly quiet and breathtakingly beautiful but very hard. For me it was the biggest test so far with 7000ft of climbing on unpaved road…the day was full of tears and smiles, and a lot of gritty determination. We entered Rio Sucio as it got dark, descending towards the twinkling lights of the town and the hope of a hot shower and a warm bed.

So far Colombia has been something else. The people are incredibly friendly and welcoming, the views have been awe inspiring and the riding has been tough. After Rio Sucio we had another long day to Pereira, a long downhill allowed us to cover over 70miles but by the time we arrived in the torrential rain we were done. And we are still here…I couldn’t face getting on the bike today to pedal up more hills so a day off was called. The Andes are not to be under estimated!!