Biker Dom's Adventures, Two Wheels, Two Legs, or Two Hands!: Colombian Conquest Day 14

Mark was kept awake by some random creature chirping during the night; a bird, a frog, or an insect. Who knows, it didn't bother me, I slept well.

Christopher practices his Sam the Eagle pose before breakfast arrives. I hope you appreciate the juxtaposition between the two oranges in the picture.

Breakfast at 8, we load up, and we start rolling through the valley at 9:30. I try to light Ray's fire, but he hasn't had enough coffee yet.

Not long after, we hit a roadblock: it's the army doing checks. Checks for what I don't know, but they wave us though not realising how dangerous we are. To ourselves!

We start to climb a dirt track. It's really dusty, so I hang back. I'm really tempted to squirt the throttle and be a hooligan, but it will create too much dust. With the weight of the bag on the back the bike actually has reasonable traction so it's not always possible to get the wheel spinning.

To the side of the road the equivalent of greenhouses cover the fields: rows of crops covered in semi-transparent netting or plastic. I guess it's to shade the crops from the fierce sun here. Ugly though.

My ears are popping as we climb, every vertical 150m or so; I keep checking my watch as we chug along, and we crest the incline at about 2800m. Nice views of the clouds below.

We pass through the buzzing town of Caicedo. More cowboy hats on show. We're not stopping as there's nowhere to park, so we filter slowly through the throng of people, before turning off to head out of town.

And then we head back into town as Jeff has taken a wrong turn again. We find ourselves in a dead end, a cemetery no less, so literally a dead, dead end.

But St. Peter says: not today, and why are you not in church?... so we do a U-turn. In reality our bikes are our church and we worship at the altar of comradeship. Amen, Brother Dom... Ahhh, bless.

Finally we escape, Caicedo, and we're back on the trail. I have my own personal Jeff moment, when I enter a bend at the wrong angle and end up where an oncoming vehicle could have been at the exit of the corner. But we're on an isolated trail with no one around. Even so, it's something I try to avoid doing.

We stop for a coffee just outside Caicedo. But it doesn't serve coffee. But we stay anyway... 🤦🏽

More juxtaposition in orange going on here.

Again landslides feature heavily in this terrain and occasional the road has just disappeared.

At our next petrol stop we have to dismount the bikes before the attendant will fill our tanks. It's only happened once before; usually we sit on the machines without issue, but not here.

Then it's a blast down the highway for a bit until we reach our lunch stop. The highway is a relief as the airflow helps keep us cool in the decidedly hot air.

There's a band playing, and it's loud, so we choose the spot furthest away from the noise.

Once again the non-lunchers sit apart from those gorging on steak and chips. Traditional dancers slap the floor with their shoes as they dance, sounding like a cracked whip. Just as we leave we chat to them using our handful of Spanish - and I wish I had taken a picture of their costumes. We exchange waves as we leave the restaurant car park.

The final leg. I've soaked the jersey under my jacket with water; in the airflow this will cool me nicely. We're not on the highway long as Jeff turns off onto smaller roads that zigzag up the mountain.

We zip along some very steep roads which makes the corners tough even if they're solid not dirt. We get stuck behind a pickup truck that slows us for a few minutes until it turns off.

Then we enter the side road that leads to Jeff's place and we all ride into his garden. But now it's our turn to take the wrong turn, as it's actually his neighbour's house - it's not Jeff's fault this time! It's our own corner man, Mick, who led us astray.

We enter the correct garden, park up, and unload the bikes for the last time. When we started here two weeks ago, we could barely see the road ahead because we were in the clouds, but now, 2270km later, the view from Jeff's garden is spectacular.

We say goodbye to Jeff and Edy, and present Edy with a little something to show our appreciation for his support throughout the trip. Many punctures, gear levers, mirrors, chain oiling, and generally keeping the bikes ridable every day. We swap dry bags for trolley bags and we pile into the minibus that awaits us.

About an hour later we're checking in at the hotel. We meet up for drinks and dinner at Steve's favourite Argentinian restaurant where the ribs are his preferred choice. Esther joins us for the last supper and we're full of merriment.

130km today, a mixture of road and trail. We could probably have tagged today's riding onto yesterday's to make a full day, but I guess this way allows flexibility for the final arrival. But we could also easily have left earlier, eaten less, and made the route much more interesting without affecting the flexibility too much.

It's been a good tour, not the best, but a great introduction to Colombia, it's people, places, and passions. Motorbikes are a huge part of Colombian life and essential to connect people in remote areas. We're glad to have contributed to that Colombian motorbike culture, even if only for two weeks.

You'll see from map below that we only covered a small part of this very large country. Perhaps one day I'll get a chance to explore more?