When the rain is pouring down the last thing anyone really wants to do is pitch a tent and cook. Luckily, hotels are cheap but what do you get for $3-$5? A simple room with a cold shower, conversation, local history, and probably get to know the family. Hopefully, no critters, other than the crack of dawn rooster alarm. These photos are from the small town of Mondongo. I learned quite a bit about local silica mining, which the family owning the hotel did. I am still waiting for my face book invite from Milton.
Popayan is considered Colombia's best preserved colonial city. Popayan looks like it was just built yesterday. Indeed, the city was heavily damaged in a 1983 earthquake and has been rebuilt since. The colonial buildings are immense white blocks parting for little plazas and church courtyards. Integrated into the old city is one of Colombia's oldest and most distinguished universities. The city's population now approaches 300,000 and most people live outside the historic center. Population growth is partly the result of Colombia's 6 million internally displaced citizens from the country side due to the ongoing civil conflict with FARC. Not the most positive form of population growth. And reflects political tension within Colombia between the urban and rural. In 2005 UNESCO declared Popayan the first city of gastronomy . . . the food seems typically Colombian but I guess that is the idea. I did notice a white stuff that was spread out to dry in front of houses smelling of dirty old belly buttons . . . fermented yucca paste.
Well, my rest days are done in Colombia. The next four days will be a big push to the Ecuadorian border and a couple thousand meters of climbing higher into the Andes.
Colombia elected their new President, Santos, who is the designated successor to the previous administration of Uribe. However, the Green Party candidate, Mockus, gave Santos a run for it in the polls, after all who would not vote for a guy that showers with his wife to save water. Politics aside, now Colombians can buy alcohol again (no sales around the election) and we are bound for Cali, the 3rd largest city, famous for beautiful women and plastic surgery. We cried a little leaving Manizales when we dropped a big chunk of hard won elevation but it was a fast cry. Tears streaked my face passing cars, trucks, and motorcycles through the turns.We rode past more coffee and stopped at Santa Rosa de Cabal to check out the hot springs and find shelter from some dark rain clouds.The hot springs were in the hills above town at the end of a dirt road at the foot of large waterfalls. We were both excited to soak and hoped the $13 entry was worth it. We dumped our bikes in a cheap room, that the friendly man with a pistol in his belt recommended, and walked up the road in the drizzle. The hot springs were impressive! Initially, we walked up a stone path wondering where the pools were thinking, "this better be damn nice for $13." The pools were large and hot at the base of a 80 meter waterfall, beverage service, food - the perfect spot for a hand stand. And we soaked until 10pm then walked back down with a stop for a chorizo and cheese arepa snack.
The next morning, we were to get going after a quick shift cable change . . . Note, make sure your new cable is long enough before cutting the old cable. Matt's new cable was not as long as the old cable, oops. Guess Matt is single speeding back to town to find a bike shop. Oh yeah, note #2, tighten all screws to prevent them from vibrating out . . .
Hmmmm . . . any guesses what is missing? After a rummage through the parts bin and joining two cables with cantilever brake bolts we were off. I kinda insisted on passing through the middle of the city of Pereira to see the 8 meter high statue of Bolivar naked on a horse - usually continent wide liberators are kept clothed for public appearances - I just had to take a picture.Matt realized he had not drank coffee that day. Matt caffeinated at a distance while I made a spectacle of myself in full bike regalia snapping pictures of the naked statue.
We kept dropping out of the foothills into the broad valley between two mountain ranges. We would follow this valley out of Colombia and into Ecuador. The valley was a series of small towns surrounded by sugar cane fields and cattle. The evening was looking pleasant, as if it would not rain for the first time in . . . weeks? We decided to camp and found an open gate into a harvested sugar cane field away from traffic noise. Again, nobody is going to care if you are in a harvested sugar cane field. A guy with a pistol in his belt stumbled on us the next morning and we had a pleasant conversation. He was just surprised to see us and wondered how many days we would camp saying everything was fine where we were.
We spent the morning trucking down the valley until deciding to take a little detour into the mountains on a ruta touristica. . . I just said yes and did not really think about the climbing entailed . . . and good thing. If the town is called Primavera (spring), you can figure you gotta climb. A thousand meters later we were in Primavera and on dirt roads.
We were unsure how long the next section of dirt road would take and spent the night in town becoming instant celebrities, ate at the only restaurant, and checked out the impeccable 50 year old Willy Jeeps that are used exclusively as mountain taxis. The next morning Brian accompanied us for the 300+ meter climb over a ridge before dropping to Trujillo. Brian killed it on his brakeless bmx bike as the dirt road climbed through high pastures past small communities. Locals were a little slack jawed to see foreigners on touring bikes. My guess is that no one tours the ruta touristica, unless you have a Willys Jeep. We parted ways with Brian shortly after the top after sharing some food and water - I'll be looking for him on the Colombian National Team in the next ten to fifteen years.
We knocked out over 130km that day to get into Cali by evening. The riding was scenic and flat after we dropped back to the river valley interspersed with short (50-80meter) climbs over the shoulders of the hills reaching into the valley. We passed more sugar cane and grapes. We stayed away from wine tasting in the interest of making time - the previous day we tasted local wines and it did little to help our mileage. I blame the woman who kept offering "tastes" and would have sent us out stumbling if we did not cut her off.
All the signs are in metric, the maps are metric, my computer is metric, my food is metric. I am thinking in metric. Therefore, I provided a metric conversion tool at the bottom of the page. Now, when I say, "I climbed 1600 meters," you will say, "wow, that is 5,249 feet!"
Matt and I finally left Medellin after 5 days. I could have stayed another 5 days. However, we only have 30 day visas and the rest of Colombia, 800 - 1000km depending on the route. I am ready to climb and climb. The biggest climb of trip so far was 6000+ feet over the Continental Divide in Panama but now the Andes start. The Andes offer some of the longest continual climbs (and descents) in the world. While the Himalaya is higher overall, the Andes rocket straight from the Pacific Ocean in a continual climb. I am ready for big mountains. But first things first. We started the climb out of Medellin in the early afternoon for over 1000 meters. The traffic was insanely heavy and slow leaving the city. We shared our climb with a group of punky BMX teens grabbing truck bumpers to the top, commuters, vendors, mountain bikers, and roadies. The clouds built the higher we climbed, cloudy, to drizzle, to pouring. We topped out and headed down with the trucks limiting our speed until we arrived in Versalles. Not a palace but a truck stop town with a hotel and food just over the top of the pass. The trucks and rain were nearly continuous. I asked a motorcyclist earlier if there were always this many trucks?, he said yes, always trucks. We started our next morning tightening things up for long descent that should last over one hour. I wore a short sleeve wool top under my cycling jersey - nice to be cool for a change.
We dropped all the way back to nearly sea level to cross the Rio Cauca at La Pintada, going from coffee to citrus. Ate lunch and started up the river valley that would take us nearly 2000 meters higher. We camped in an orange grove sandwiched between the road and river. Matt mentioned later that a fellow cyclist camping on private property was held at gunpoint recently, until police arrived . . . but the gate was not locked so it's ok. The only people to discover us are picking oranges the next morning. The oranges were juicy.
The day was beautiful for climbing up and out of the river valley back into coffee country with stops for bandejas, fresh goat's milk yogurt, water, donuts.
Matt and I flatted on tire wires and larger road debris. Otherwise, just mind numbingly beautiful scenery for miles on end, up and up. Large trees beside the roads providing welcome shade. Coffee trees also require shade and are inter-planted with banana trees on open slopes. Coffee tree are planted under existing shade trees, as well. The result is steep green treed foothills and shady valleys.
The road just kept climbing . . . climbing. I approached each false summit with renewed vigor nearing the city of Manizales (pop. 400,000) - I figured the city would be in a high valley meaning we get to coast into town. Nope, climbed to the bitter end. The city is perched on ridges, no valley, and it only got steeper until stopping. We stayed at Mountain House Hostel for a couple days through the run off election and to wait for Matt's new debit card.
I saw this person, more than once, asleep with one arm slung over the walker shoeless in a house dress like granny gone bad. The walker always looked like a bad tumble on the corner or in the median sleeping. But i presumed they were not dead after the second time.
Joe and strolled out of the Palm Tree Hostal on a late Sunday morning for a walk around the city. Four million people is a big city to walk around but we knew the right direction and had the time to spare. I can picture many cities without sidewalks, sidewalks filled with garbage, dashing across four lanes of traffic to access a strip mall, bridges without walkways . . . Medellin is a pleasant surprise. Where else do you have full suspension bike signs? I used the ciclovia, bike path, to access bike shops around the city. Highways traversing the city are closed on alternating days to cars for bikes and pedestrians. Within 45 minutes of pedestrian walkways we reached the modern EPM (energy) building and government plaza in the city center. Unfortunately, many of the public spaces around government buildings were closed for security before the run off election (happening today).
We crossed the city from park to park utilizing streets designated for pedestrians.Skate boarding is not a crime. Taking time out to watch the World Cup.Botero Park in the city center featuring the sculptures of Medellin local, Fernando Botero. I had as much fun watching people interact with the sculptures as looking at the sculptures themselves.We stopped and had a beer overlooking the park and noticed some other folks from the hostal walking around the city.
“Cities are distinguished by the catastrophic forms they presuppose and which are a vital part of their essential charm. New York is King Kong, or the blackout, or vertical bombardment: Towering Inferno. Los Angeles is the horizontal fault, California breaking off and sliding into the Pacific: Earthquake.” Jean Baudrillard Medellin, Colombia - late 1980's world murder capitol, Pablo Escobar, cocaine, right wing paramilitaries, left wing guerrillas . . . a short list of "catastrophic forms."
The city of nearly four million people is no longer noted as the murder capitol of the world but is the wealthiest city in Colombia with a thriving night life, over 95% of city households having electricity and clean drinking water, and all in a valley with an average temperature of 72 degrees year around. While the city was founded at the turn of the 17th century, the new and modern overshadows any remnants of the old. The city has a new metro system that opened in the mid to late 1990's giving easy access to the valley and hills via a metro cable car system.
Presently, the city has two metro cable lines with plans to open a third. The entire system is accessible for a fare of 1500 pesos or about 75 cents. The gondolas, of the metrocable system, rise out of the valley climbing and descending the hills surrounding the city. Mid stations give access to neighborhoods formerly difficult to access. As Matt and I stood on the platform observing the scene below a guard approached us saying not to linger because he did not want us shot from the street below. Take three pictures that is enough. The city crawls up the hillsides in a scene that is hard to describe. Houses built upon houses the bricks of houses below keeping houses above from tumbling to the valley below in a continuous mass. You are no longer passing through the city but passing over it. The gondola is a voyeurs dream as you look down stitching together an image of the city without passing through the city. Listening to other riders name neighborhoods, relating events from headlines about shootings, and speculating on current events observed below. One young woman nervously chatters about the gondola falling off the cable to the street below.
When the rain is pouring down the last thing anyone really wants to do is pitch a tent and cook. Luckily, hotels are cheap but what do you get for $3-$5? A simple room with a cold shower, conversation, local history, and probably get to know the family. Hopefully, no critters, other than the crack of dawn rooster alarm.
