Colombian Conquest Day 10 - Pensilvania to Salamina

Our room is small; cats need not fear getting dizzy. Mark comments that we're at the stage of the tour when the room is dominated by the smell of feet. Speak for yourself! Biological warfare breaks out in the toilet, I adjourn to the balcony to admire the morning view.

Getting ready, Mark groans in pain like he's having a baby with every move he makes: in the shower, drying, dressing, putting on his socks, then the boots, going down the stairs. But his ankle shows the reason why: it's swollen and the bruise is showing its colours. But he will be riding. It will be painful.

Breakfast is scrambled eggs with onion and tomatoes, served with corn bread and rice. Tasty. I buy some yogurt to share as a starter. It pairs nicely with the rice.

We retrieve the bikes from the garage tucked away just off the square and it's a short walk from the hotel.

and we load the bikes outside the hotel. Jeff seems to be getting personal service from Solomon the parking guy, who carries his bag for him.

In the square, there's a very tall palm tree that dominates. We'll be seeing more of these later.

We leave the town on the main road; vultures are attending to the remains of something furry, which our resident zoologist thinks may have been a zarigueya (opossum). A short while later we see the remnants of a chicken at the side of the road; its comrades obviously don't give a cluck, as they continue pecking the ground around it, oblivious to the demise of their pal. Craig admits that he was the two-wheeled assassin.

Further up the road a wheel barrow loaded with tools and materials is being towed behind a motorbike, held by the two arms of the pillion!

We pass through a familiar looking lively town, complete with trotting horses. For a moment I think we're back where we started; but no, it's a different town. 

We start riding up a gravel track winding up into the hills. It's a fun track and I'm following Jeff who seems to be getting into his stride as our guide. But we still think he doesn't know our names. 

On the other side of the valley there's a line of buildings that sits at the top of the valley. They look so precarious, but the views must be amazing.

We're up into the clouds by now and Jeff stops us at a vantage point over the valley. Well, it would be, but for the cloud today, so we don't see much.

Mark is in a lot of pain and despite sitting and keeping a steady pace, the bumpy terrain is causing too much flex in his ankle. He levers his boot off and Jeff adds an additional bandage to stiffen the ankle movement. But two attempts are needed as the first version doesn't fit back into Mark's boot. Back on the trail and he seems to be happier with the increased rigidity.

The 2900m altitude lunch stop is at the town of Marulanda, named after the colonel that founded the town. 

It's colourful but there are few people around and it feels a bit dead at the moment. I wonder what it must be like living in these remote towns. There's no data connection on our phones (Tigo network), but there are two towers with radio dishes so there must be some kind of connectivity.

At the police station there's a female police officer on guard duty with an assault rifle almost as big as her. 

The other officers are not doing much; it's a slow news day. Our arrival seems to spark their interest, but Jeff explains we're a bunch of European (mostly) tourists.

We ride out the way we came, which suggests this town is at the end of the road into the hills. 

We take a different direction and climb higher, touching 3150m at one point. The sweet smell of eucalyptus filters into our nostrils as we wind through the trees. In Europe, typically at this altitude we'd be above the tree line, but here in the tropics the climate allows them to grow this high in the mountains.

Our next stop is at Bosque de Palmas de Cera, a reserve that aims to protect and propagate the very tall wax palm trees (Quindio), which is the national tree of Colombia and which is now endangered. We have a tour and learn about the trees, their history, and why they are now endangered. They grow up to 60m tall (tallest palms in the world) and live for around 200 years. In the past these were used to harvest wax to make candles and fuel, but now this is not allowed. New trees need to be shaded before they mature, or they die, but deforestation means that there is less shade available to protect those young trees. So when old trees die, there are few new trees to replace them; hence they are endangered.

Ray and I walk down through the thick grass to hug a tree and see if there's any wax on the trunk - just a few patches.

The grass is lush, making the walk back tougher at 3000m. 

Before leaving, we fix Mark's boots with gaffer tape. It's like shoeing a horse.

Riding on we pass through another town and hear a marching band practicing in the yard of a school. Steve stops to take pictures.

Our stop this afternoon is in the town of Salamina. The hotel Salamina Highs is very ornate, with wood carvings, chandeliers, and a secret garden with many orchids (Craig knows these well and gives us a tour of the different varieties). We're trying to work out if it's been designed by Versace, Liberace, or Trump (needs more gold).

There's even a chandelier in our bedroom, but nowhere to hang coats or anything. Not ideal for airing sweaty biking gear. (Picture from breakfast the next morning)

Dinner is at the equally ornate Don Fermin restaurant, adorned with copious artwork on the walls. We dine in a private room. I dress appropriately for the occasion.

After we get back to the hotel the heavens open with extreme heavy rainfall. It doesn't last more than about ten minutes, but it's deafening on the roof of the hotel, while Graham tries to teach Ray, Mick and Craig how to play "Liar Dice".

Ray and Graham tease each other mercilessly. Despite this, Mick wins. Beginners luck...

130km today with an educational pitstop.

Colombian Conquest Day 9 - La Dorada to Pensilvania

Animals: I missed pigs off my list of animals to be seen, and indeed, before we even leave, Steve is sweating like one... Profusely; he's literally dripping and that's in the shade. 

We're in the Magdelana valley, at the lowest point of our tour around 200m above sea level. Therefore, we're experiencing the hottest temperatures so far and it feels worse because we're leaving at midday. As we leave the city, we sense that oh so pungent aroma of distilled and matured sewage. To be honest it's the first time I've smelled it while in Colombia and it's to be expected really, remember we're in the tropics and in a not quite fully developed country. We've had that same assault to our senses all over the world, and pretty much the same smell everywhere. 

We're climbing the Magdelana valley heading to the town of Victoria for lunch. In the right we can see a few buttes. These look similar to those found in Monument Valley in the US, but unlike there the wet tropical climate means that there's plenty of growth on and around the formation, so it's green instead of brown. This picture taken as we climb towards Victoria. The buttes, just visible in the distance, looked bigger from the valley floor.

Before the lunch stop Graham has a puncture, but we go ahead and leave him and Edy to catch up once it's fixed.

At the lunch stop we meet a new friend Luis. Can't quite work out whether he had learning difficulties or he's high. He's relatively well groomed and well dressed,  has nice teeth, and makes a good effort at speaking English. He's also got a huge tracheotomy scar in his neck. I think he's adopted us, or Steve at least.

The centre of the square is dominated by a very large tree with a thick trunk.

Graham is my batman today and brings me an espresso while we're sitting in the shade chatting to Luis. Ray appreciates the proper coffee taste, the first on this trip. We're climbing into the coffee growing region of Colombia, so we'll expect good things from the coffee. 

We sit almost opposite the police station, and once again I admire the police colour scheme. They ride the same Honda XRE 300 bikes as us, but usually two-up. 

We climb higher on asphalt, into the clouds, and at times along the ridge line seeing valleys below on either side. There's an equal proportion of trucks to cars and the trucks spew out thick black smoke as their diesel engines struggle to push them up the steep incline. As we climb, less restricted by gravity, it gets cooler - that's a relief. 

We pass homes that from the road look normal, but I know that a few seconds ago, I saw that this same house is clinging precariously to the steep slopes.

We're now in coffee growing country and all around are coffee estates growing coffee on the mountain slopes. The plants are grown in rows that give them a characteristic pattern from afar. 

The vegetation is changing and we ride through a lovely eucalyptus fragrance, quite a contrast from the start of our day.

After a refreshment break we continue the journey. We touch 2100m briefly before dropping slightly and then climbing again. These are lovely sweeping roads and it's a real pleasure to ride them. Jeff comments that he really loves this area and feels very much at home here. 

We make the final climb into Pennsylvania. I'm following Graham and see him looking firm at his front wheel, it does look strange and I think it's running flat. I toot him and we stop to check. It does indeed look flat and Edy confirms this when he pumps it from about 10psi to the specified 25psi. We only have another 30mins of riding so Edy does this rather than change the tube here. I follow Graham for those final 30 minutes and he's no slouch in the bends. The tyre holds up fine. 

When we get to Pensilvania, we park off the main square and walk across it to our hotel. The rooms are small, but we have an entertaining view of the square front the balcony at the end of the hall. It's a lively place. I go for a walk around town before dinner. 

Some of the streets are super steep.

During dinner which is a short walk from the hotel, we often hear the fast 'clippity clop' of horses. But this is not a regular trot, but a rapid hoof hitting the ground at speed while barely moving forward. It seems to be a local specialty as they parade up and down the street and square most of the evening, stopping occasionally to chat at the bar and alternate riders. There's even a cow girl, complete with Stetson hat. This display reminds us of cruising, only instead of hot hatches and boy racers it's hot hats and girl riders.

We finish the evening with an ice cream and prowl the streets menacingly looking for trouble...

The hotel has thin walls and doors, I can hear the TV from down the hall and the dogs barking on the street, even though we don't have a window in our room. Should be an interesting night.

About 120km today. I forgot to start my tracking so the picture below is determined from cell tower pings 

Colombian Conquest Day 8 - Muzo to La Dorada (take 2)

After having lost the notes and the post that I spent yesterday and early this morning finishing, this is a second attempt from memory. Pictures will be added eventually. 

News flash: Last night Steve helped Edy fix his bike. Well, he held the torch while Edy fixed his brakes. But now Steve has a puncture!

While we wait for Edy to fix the puncture, Ray regales us with his tale of stripping a GS550 down to individual parts before a tour of Europe. Graham quips: who put it back together! 🤣

It's going to be a hot day...

We set off, and eventually take the wrong direction so do a U-turn. Later the same thing happens, but it's just a miscommunication this time, so we follow Jeff before doing another U-turn and continuing in the original direction. During the regroup I complete my daily Duolingo lesson: tres bien, encore une fois!

I have an off, when we stop, I brake and miss my footing, down I go; another stationary off. Ray captures the moment with glee.

We're off-road, or rather off-asphalt, these are all marked roads, just unmetalled or disintegrated. They're gravel, mud, and rock. In places the bare rock comes through, flat sometimes, but mostly end on layers that have worn unevenly creating a corrugation effect like a very hard rumble strip when you ride over them. The rocks also protrude and we try to avoid hitting those in unmovable objects.

We encounter our first mud of the day. I've been following Mark, and I've been impressed by his riding. But I have that thought too soon, as the next moment over he goes in the mud - the first of many today. Mark calls them UIDs (Unintended Instantaneous Dismounts). I feel slightly better about my stationary off now.

We pass many settlements on the road. Some of these are no more than a few shacks, sometimes perched over a sheer drop. 

At one, a man sits in his underpants, while all around him his clothes hang on washing lines. We're constantly reminded that this is landslide country, on the road, and on the other side of the valley.

There are so many picture opportunities. I look in my mirror and see a stream of riders following me, perfectly framed by the magnificent Colombian mountains. I want to take that shot, but it takes too long to stop the bike and get the camera out: the moment is lost.

Later when I've opened out a gap behind me, I stop on a bend to catch the riders as they come around. I wait and I wait, but nobody comes. Eventually a rider appears, but not the one I expected. He gallops past. 

At Quipama we stop for a break. There's the usual town name in big letters, but this one has a unique selling point, two even!

There's also a rather modern looking auditorium, which seems completely out of place in this remote town. 

Gunshots, definitely gunshots. None of the locals duck, so it must be normal. At least they're not shooting at us, yet. A boy who is surely not even a teenager, rides past on his motorbike; an even younger girl is his pillion. Different rules here, or maybe no rules.

Setting off again we're back on the dirt road. There are lots of muddy sections, lots and lots; some quite long. Generally I always ride with my feet on the pegs, but in difficult terrain sometimes a foot is dabbed to the side, ready to catch a tricky moment. In mud, many of us paddle through with our feet either side of the ruts to avoid a dramatic and messy off, especially if there's a camera ready to catch the occasion!

I reach one long patch and after riding through, feet off pegs 💪🏽, jump off my bike ready to catch pictures of the next unwitting rider who comes through - the spider awaits his prey in the sticky stuff.

It's Ray! All my Christmas have come together! He paddles through the first section ok, then [excuse alert] hits a rock, which throws him off course and he ends up sideways, but still upright... damn. 

His bike loses traction - there's still hope! - and his back wheel scrabbles spinning wildly (picture hamster on a spinning wheel going nowhere). But to his credit he makes it out unscathed. Drat! I'll mark that one down as an 'almost came off' moment. As he rides past me, the finger of victory is raised🖕🏼. Santa did not deliver... 

Next it's Mick. He looks really tired. And he's not so lucky: over he goes.

I help him with the bike and then after a brief rest, I ride it to safe ground while Mick walks through. We ride the next few km together in case another section requires assistance. But despite some further tricky sections we regroup with the others at a rest stop. I race back to catch more riders in the muddy web.

While all this is happening, Mark has had an more serious off. He's sprained his ankle and can't ride very well - to clarify, worse than usual. He and his entourage arrive at the mud, but he takes the wrong track. He stops and gets off, while Gerard and Christopher walk him across the difficult section and Edy rides his bike through.

We meet up with the others to work out what to do. Meanwhile Craig's gear lever has snapped off (it had been welded, so is not an easy fix) and Mick has another puncture.

The police arrive, having heard of our difficulties from a local. They are really helpful and offer to take Mark to hospital/doctor/vet in the back of their pickup, while one of their officers rides Mark's bike. He's in a nicely pressed, pristine uniform and we doubt it will stay that way.

We follow behind as they go and I think the uniform stayed clean. 😱

Arriving in town, Craig's first stop is at a welder, who makes quick work of refitting his gear lever.

Mark is seen by the informal doctor (formal doctor may have ended his trip) who confirms no break and judging by the picture below, tickles his feet. That's good news.

And then he's dropped off by the police. They wave as they leave, I think we made their day, judging by their enthusiasm to pose for Steve's camera. 

While Mark was attended to, we have lunch. One of the restaurant staff seems to have a thing for Edy and as we leave They want a group picture and they video us when we leave and then further up the road other staff take more videos as we ride past. We must be near royalty.

Mark rides behind me while Mick is ahead. I to keep equally spaced. At some point when we overtake cars I end up ahead of Mick.

When I reach the next town, Gerard marking a corner, tells me Mick has had another puncture (our third today). I mark the next corner after seeing an unmarked corner between him and Hugo. I wait there and watch the world go by, including a couple of local cruisers including tassels!

The tailenders reach us and apparently I'm the Master of Fucking Unilateral Decisions, but I have no idea why...

It's starting to get dark. We ride down the mountain making good use of the extra running lights fitted to our bikes, mine point in the wrong direction so I follow Gerard using his lights to guide the way. Great road in good condition. Would have been awesome in daylight, but it was stillgoid fun in the dark. We regroup before joining a motorway.

On the motorway the lorries are as fast as us or faster downhill, but we pass them uphill. The US freeway rules seem to apply, so we often overtake on the inside lane and then our European genes keep us there. Steve likens it to a game of Mario Kart. We regroup again after a toll booth (bikes are toll free) and discuss the difficulty of keeping together in the dark. It's easy to lose track of the rider ahead and behind, so we keep a tighter grouping from now on.  

We reach La Dorada and park up. 160km today. Doesn't sound much, but they were hard km. Hard, but enjoyable. Three punctures, a broken gear lever, and a trip to a dodgy doctor in a police car - we like a challenge and we got one. More please!