Colombia . . . and a new continent

I am a poor tourist. I miss all the sights. I can show you a half dozen bike shops in an hour or give you a tour of the local supermarkets or tell you where the bike path goes. None of it in the Lonely Planet. When I stop moving I come to a dead stop. The past month has been a whirl. Partying down the Caribbean Coast, laboring over the Continental Divide, walking the Bridge of the Americas into Panama City, boats across seas & lakes, hell rides up rivers, water taxis to & from islands, and the big push around the Darien Gap. I landed in Turbo done with public transport loading and unloading my bike. I was done with heat so intense I could drop my balls in a cup and boil soup.

Upon cruising into the Port of Turbo I made the snap decision to pass on the long bus ride into steamy Cartagena. Cartagena is surely beautiful, the most some say, but it will be there. Matt, Dylan, and I fed ourselves, cashed up, shopped, and headed out across the hot lowlands towardsthe mountains. All very beautiful and friendly. Too many motorcycles and cars to remember pace me, say hi, ask questions, snap a photo or two, offer me a drink. Small hotels in small townsofferred shelter for three out of the cool rain, for less than $4 each. At the military checkpoints along the road they stop us, curious and/or bored, they always have water and want to know what we think of Colombia? Some are appreciative of their US made military equipment, "the best armas," some items are embroidered with U.S.The roads are shady and begin climbing into the mountains on the third day winding along rivers alternating between dirt and broken pavement through tunnels and over the passes. The riding could not be more beautiful and people are unfailingly courteous. People we meet are curious and helpful. Dropping off one pass we camp in the community houseof a pueblito along the Rio Verde while curious folks come over to talk and give us avocados and mangoes. After days of mountains we top a big pass and I cruise down through dusk towards Sante Fe Antioquia. Late in the game I pinch flat and become a one man Indy 500 pit crew while the trucks and buses I passed slow down to offer help. I cruise into the the old colonial capitol at dusk and sit and have a beer waiting to see if Matt and Dylan followed. I wandered into the narrow cobbled streets in the dark to crash at a hotel, owned by a former Disney worker, figuring I would catch them in the morning at the bottom of the hill.

The next morning after breakfast, I catch Dylan and Matt at the bottom of the hill. I show them down to the plaza for breakfast, and after hemmin' and hawin' we decide to take a rest day. After asking around we find a great little hotel on a side alley off the main plaza with a pizza place at the opposite end, heaven.

We depart the next morning not so early due the first game of the world cup in South Africa being on. The opening game of the Copa Mundial is not to be missed and the city is one giant simulcast as we head out . Matt and I are headed for Medellin, while Dylan is going around the city but we will see him again. We have a 30 km climb to rim of the bowl that Medellin sits in surrounded by lush green mountains. The higher we go the cooler it gets until finally at a stop for jugos naturales (fruit smoothy - passion fruit is my new favorite) we both get goose bumps. Nearing the summit, we talk with a pair of cops and toss our bikes in the back of their king cab pick up for a ride through the tunnel. Bicycles are not allowed through the brand new tunnel that punches the ridge to pop out on the edge of Medellin.Medellin is a dense city of 3-4 million people that is intimidating to behold on a bicycle. But after some phone calls and asking for directions we descend the precipitous streets into the heart of the city. Matt goes to a family friends home and I to the Palm Tree Hostal to eat lots, wash clothes, socialize, run errands around Medellin, and generally enjoy a beautiful city. The climate here is near perfect, you can wear shorts or a suit comfortably. I cannot say enough good things about Colombia.