Final Post

So I suppose this will be my last post, unless something happens in Bogota on my last night worth sharing. One month really flew by and seemed but a bit over a week. Now wonder I ran into so many Europeans and Israelis that seem to think a month was the shortest travel they had heard of, as 1 year seemed to be a prett popular time frame of travelers I ran into here. "Don't you people need to work?", I commonly asked but soon remembered that Americans see traveling much differently. I for the most part accomplished my goals, although vaguely defined, of building a Spanish language base and tackling a good distance by bike as well as soaking up some South American culture. For the most part I would now have to agree that Colombia has rid itself of the majority of the dangers people commonly associate it with. This in no way means that the common risks of traveling especially in places with more of a social struggle are not strongly present here. However the kidnappings and FARC horrors have seemed to become more of an internalized conflict pushed into the jungles and far from the main roads. For instance that 'Lost City Trek' that a group of foreigners were captured on a few years ago to my surprise now has about 100 Westerners doing it every week. This fact that Colombia is on par with the safety standards of the rest of South America if not better, that is commonly found in current periodicals I would agree with. But like anything else you need to see it for yourself before feeling too confident. Also, assuming they are doing their job and not 'too' consumed with corruption, the military and police seem to have a very large presence and whether on bus or bike I was never annoyed with having to be stopped at checkpoints on the main roads. Colombia is still cheap and most parts not typical tourist destinations, but the people here are pretty accustomed to Westerners and even Americans coming to visit now. Most areas are pretty good travel destinations if you ask me.

Well thanks for reading this blog to all of you who stuck with it. It gave me a reason to keep some what of a journal and share my experiences before the begin to slip away. I hope to keep touch. For those who may of been reading this in preparation for your own travels or bike trip, feel free to email me at mikedunkle@yahoo.com. Ahora este tiempo de regresar a los Estados Unidos!

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Playa Blanca

Days 25 - 28

This will be quite the challenge as I am writing on the bus ride from Cartagena to Bogota to catch my Tuesday morning flight and just as I mentioned about these tour buses before, they drive extremely fast and the ride is rough. At least now I'm in the bus instead of a target. 20 hours on a bus is long, but since it covered a night its not so bad. I met an old guy named Esmar on the back of the bus who knew a little English so we went back and fourth communicating in English / Spanish, obviously poor and broken regardless of which but it was a good start to my ride since bus trips are known to be one of the more risky events of traveling.

So on Thursday after getting settled in the hostel some guys invited me to dinner to celebrate one of their birthdays. We we went to the old city, inside 'the walls' I mentioned in my last post (BTW to correct a typo there, the walls 'WERE' built to kerp pirates out, no issues with them now - my bad) and had a pricey by Colombian standards but nice dinner. We then had some beers out in a square that had heaps of people and blairing salsa music pouring from one of the beautiful Spanish architecture inspired bars. I haven't done a lot of the night life scene, so for the first time on my trip a couple of us went over to mingle with some locals and surprisingly they took us up on our offer to go to Havana Cafe, a Salsa bar, for the rest of the evening. No one at the bar seemed to let being packed in really tight hinder them from dancing all over the place, bumping into eachother as if exiting a sports venue just as the game ends. It's like that everywhere here. Even on public city buses, which are really just slightly longer mini vans, they pack in 18 people and blast Latino music and people sway to the beat while sitting on top of eachother, totally content. The next day after sleeping in for the first time on the trip, I roamed around the old city admiring the architecture and taking some photos. I've hesitated to break out my real camera out much but Cartagena is a tourist mecca so I figured at least here there are plenty better targets than myself, in the case that the street theives were roaming around noon. Had a nice set meal for 6,000 pesos, which is $3, and hiked over to the Castle of San Felipe which isn't comparable to those of Europe but pretty unique because it looks older than any other castle I've ever seen. Photos are below. I found a good panaderia and picked up some fresh breads and cookies. Like a typical American, I bought a small bun like loaf and took it to a Vende de Chorizo (sausage vender) across the street and asked him to make a sandwich with 'salsa de tomate' out of it. Hey I've had my share of the authentic creations, so why not.

On Saturday I beaded out to Playa Blanca to meet the group I bad dinner with previously, Niles from Ireland and Jez and Allison from Australia to name a few. After an extremley annoying 4 hour boat ride, again really packed, really loud music, witn an MC dude going around with a mic chiming in on the music and asking other tourists where they were from. When he came to the 3 of us (2 other guys who are from Israel and look just like it) of course said 'Israel' as if representing the 3 of us. So picture them saying that and then there's me, a fair bit larger then them, blonde hair, blue eyes and a big cross tatoo... I just kind of pursed my lips and make the hmmm sound. I'm sure that was the reaction of others on the boat as well. After we scarfed down the included lunch, which of course was a whole deep fried fish, we got out of the tour boat scene and hit the turquoise water beach. Once the tour boats clear out around 4:00 and the venders of crap retreat, it really becomes an extremely tranquil place. For anyone reading who may be on their way there eventually, I highly recommend staying at 'Refugio de Carol'. It's ran by a real nice guy named Ube who has really nice cabana style pavillions covering hammocks with mosquito nets for only $3 per night. No power or running water but that's the same for everywhere at Playa Blanca. He also serves really good seafood meals for $7 that are as fresh as can be. The guys I mentioned and myself were sold on his Octopus catch that had come in only 5 hrs earlier. Kinda crazy that this dude and his one helper cleaned them of their ink sacks and whatever else is necessary, in a primitive little kitchen consisting of a grill over coals and wood burning powered fryer, to result in restaurant quality dishes that were pretty impressive in appearance and taste. He also had fish, shrimp and chicken, but considering I was trying to experience life on the Caribbean, as they say, when in Rome... Plus I had never tried Octopus (beyond Calamari) before. It's strange I spent about 30 hrs. at that beach however between sleeping in a hamock, laying in the sun, enjoying a bottle of rum with the group and reading, there isn't much to elaborate on. It was really nice but I must say I was thinking to myself, man I don't think I could have spent the next day the same way. I felt so unproductive that I went for a couple mile jog down the beach in the morning just to prevent a crazed twitch from starting. It's funny, the whole time there I was thinking conversely how much Liz would love to lounge there for ages, less the lack of power and showers of course.

Although an extremely boring read, I though it would be fitting to finally get into Adam Smith's Wealth of the Nations over the past two days which goes into the most basic theories of economics. When traveling, especially in a place like Colombia it is quite interesting to see the real life applications of that work in things as simple as when I experienced fish become cheaper and more common as I approached the coast and saw how the abundance of colonial infrastructure is by no coincidence located at the port towns such as Cartagena. Many other things also, such as when you have a country such as Colombia with all the resources such as salt, fish, sugarcane, fruits and even coca it allows so much more labor to be put to useful purpose as opposed for instance to many nations in Africa of the same approximate size and amount of people.

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The Old City - Cartagena

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Getsemane - Cartagena

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Castillo de San Felipe

Days 22, 23, 24

Time has been flying by lately. I'm glad that a quarter of the amount I paid for the Spanish classes goes to send Colombian children to school because man I was feeling like jumping off a bridge after a couple of those sessions. So on Sunday evening upon the return from Tayrona park I caught up with the rents and Liz and then had a nice night at an ice cream joint / cafe on the beach on my own which was great. After class on Monday I spent about 2 hours reviewing a scuba diving manual loaned to me by the dive center to give myself a refresher course after not diving for almost 5 years. Surprisingly no one else was scheduled on the trip for Monday afternoon so it was just the divemaster, the driver of the small boat and myself. Great company by the way called Aquantis ran by an Austrian named Johan (aquantisdivecenter.com). The sites weren't comparable to the great barrier reef, but still pretty good. On the first dive I saw a snake like thing sticking it's head out of the sand about 4 inches and then completely squirming out exposing the other 4 feet of it's body. It was a really interesting snake because it had somewhat of a fur texture and the print and colors of a cheetah. On the second dive I saw a lobster, but here they have daggers instead of claws. The best thing I saw was an angel fish that was camoflauged into its brown surroundings. The dive master scared it and it swam away changing to a luminescent blue and yellow only to stop dead after about 15 feet and turn to dark brown and black with spots. The amount of change in its pigment was incredible. We took a break in between dives on a small island just off the coast and ran into what looked like a group of local men relaxing by the water's edge, until they all jumped up out of their chairs yelling and reaching for their fishing net's ropes The ten of them in line like a tug of war contest then pulled in this huge net. Once the last few feet came out of the water as well as the catch it was clear they were all unsatisfied and prepared to put the net back in place. Tuesday was quite a bit of a change as I went into Santa Marta with Shauli, the Israeli I met in Taytona Park, to shop at the grocery store and go to the mall. I hadn't seen that side of Colombia since Bogota. It was good though doing a bit of the city thing and we went to Jaun Valdez for coffee which was really good as everyone had mentioned previously. It's basically the big chain in Colombia just like Starbucks in the rest of the Western world but they obviously serve coffee from only Colombian beans. For nemerous reasons, I ended up staying in Taganga another night but this time at Casa Felipe which is the backpacker Mecca of the town. The place is like a mini village of cement studio apartment buildings with an extremely imperfect stone patio / walkway connecting them all and a hammock hanging every 10 feet. On Wednesday I went to the 'peliqueria' and had my beard shaved off. First time I ever grew one and thus seeing that much hair removed from my face was a shocker. Shauli and I went to Rodadero which is kind of the high end part of Santa Marta where the locals go for the beach and dinners. On Thursday I left pretty early for Cartagena by bus, since it would have taken 2 full days of riding to get here by bike. When I arrived I ran into a couple people in Hotel Marlin, another backpacker joint, that I had met before and said hi to them oy to get confused looks. Then they were like "oh you were the dude on the bike you look 10 years younger without a beard"! If ever necessary in the future now I know I have the perfect disguise. So I haven't talked about food in a bit so I guess I'll mention some. Plantacones are real popular with standard dishes and are basically like a bigger firmer banana. They usually mash them down and fry them kind of like a pancake. Pretty good. A new favorite breakfast staple for me is arepa con huevo, which is an arepa (corn meal fried dough patty) with a fried egg inside. Another popular thing here and favorite of mine is bocadillo, a candy like fruit chew made of condensed dried guava and sugar in the form of cubes wrapped in dried banana leaves. Every proper super market has about 500 packages of it. I have had my share of more natural juices / smoothies, at least one a day, including lulu, mango with orange, zapote with milk, melon with blackberry and papaya. One of the craziest fruits I've ever seen is Granadilla. It's really unique and considered special to Colombia, so I took some pictures of the last one I ate. It has an outer casing you crack open qnd inside is a dry pulpy like sack that is holding a big wet cluster of seeds that is each in it's own transparent membrane of juice. It looks disgusting like fish eggs, but the seeds in their little jelly sacks taste sweet and have a unique crunch best described as a baby watermelon seed. First impressions of Cartagena are pretty good. It's a beautiful colonial city on the coast with a historic center which is literally the old city within the 'walls' which surround the town center and are about 20 feet high to keep pirates out. The buildings are very Spanish influenced with pretty intricate banisters on the balconys and colorful cement buildings, narrow roads and wide open squares. Ok I guess that makes another book. Take care all.

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First straight razor experience

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Granadilla

Days 19, 20, 21

After my Spanish lesson, a chat with Liz and a big lunch on Friday I took a bus into Santa Marta to catch another for Parque Tayrona. In the supermarket I ran into an Israeli, Shouele and two Canadians, Rich and Benji, who were also going to the park and generously offered to wait for me and find the bus together. You would be surprised to see how many Israiles I run into in Colombia. I suppose this is because they are known for traveling a lot, however in Taganga alone there are 3 Israeli ran hostels and it just seems like I see a lot more here. Shouele is traving South America for a whole year and has picked up perfectly fluent Spanish in the process. I envy people like this so much and don't understand how they do it that fast. Since Shouele also speaks English as if he grew up in the mid-west US his whole life, I had a couple good chats with him as well as the Canadians over the bus ride. I decided to change my plans of heading to a more secluded area of the park and go with these guys to Playa Cabo, a backpacker / camper Mecca of tent and hammock dwellers on some of the most beautiful shorelines of the park. Really annoying how many people were there, but surprisingly you could pretty easily seclude yourself if you wanted. We rented hammocks and made some what of a roof over ourselves with some plastic tarps the campground provided and spent two nights sleeping right next to the Caribbean, pretty nice I must say. I woke up with the sun both mornings around 5:30 and hiked as far as I could get out on a peninsula of boulders where I ate breakfast, watched the remainder of the sunrise and read while it was still cool and breezy. I must say that was the best part of the weekend, chillin on rocks in the early morning with the sound of waves crashing into the boulders below. We didn't do much on Saturday, just the usual beach thing, however in the evening we had quite the run in at the park's tiki hut / restaurant. We met this girl named Beth who was from Ohio as well as her sister Emmy and British friend Luke. There wasn't more than a handful of people from the US in that joint let alone Ohio. To really top off the night we see this other dude with an Ohio State shirt on and I give him the "O-H", waiting for the "I-O" response. He came over to say hi after and we commented on how small the world is. As you may see in the pics, the coast was pretty stunning. Unfortunately the sun is completely down here by 6 so the days felt short but we spent the eveningss playing cards in the tiki hut dining room of the restuarant, including "kanive" an Israeli game that is pretty fun. The second night was a bit rougher as one of the supports our hammocks were tied to cracked but luckily we didn't drop to the ground it was more of a slow process. Today the Canadians and I hiked out of the park through the jungle which was over a pretty big mountain requiring about 4 hours of strenuous hiking. These Canadians were pretty funny. Like most Aussies or Brits I run meet, they gave off a pretty strong sarcastic tone, ripping on eachother 24-7 which I find strangley amusing and familiar. On the way through the jungle we passed through what is know as "Pueblito", the ruins of an ancient city about 2,000 years old. There wasn't much to see, but it was pretty cool standing on platforms that used to be tribal chiefs huts / temples. No sight of monkeys or big snakes as hoped, but I did see a ton of lizards that were all different neon colors snd a couple blue crabs that were about the size of a mini football. After a the hike, we exited the jungle at the perfect place, a spot on the main road with some small little shops with music blairing selling cold beers and snacks. It's a holiday tomorrow so there seems to be a lively scene with loud music everywhere including back here in Taganga. Strangely the holiday is a celebration of the 'races'. Strange to me since race is so touchy in The US but not in Colombia. For one it's a really diverse place due to the combination of Spanish, native and African descent here. Unlike in the US these races "mixed", for lack of better terms, quite quickely resulting in a more diverse country. Riding into the North at first looked like I had left South America and entered Africa. I wasn't expecting this so I must say the amount of diversity in Colombia as well as this holiday were surprising to me. Til next time, take care guys.

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Bay at Playa Cabo

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Caribbean sunrise

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Parque Tayrona - sunrise from hammock

Days 17, 18

The past two days have been pretty different from the rest of the trip so far, returning to the same room each night and not breaking out the maps to plan the next day. Taganga is nice but pretty touristy. Right next to the bigger beach town of Santa Marta on the other side of the mountain, which is where a lot of people go as well. It's kind of a small fishing town gone hippie. All the restaurants here have overpriced meals which in my opinion don't compare in taste or quantity of food to anywhere else I've been. The town has tons of hostels and dive companies and there are Colombians and Westerners alike sitting around everywhere trying to sell their hand made bracelets and jewelry. Over the mountain on the other side of Taganga is a smaller beach, a little nicer but equally crowded, and I ventured over there both days just for the sake of some exercise. As many of you know I eat anything but am just not into the real traditional fishing town stuff. For my first meal I ordered the special which came with local fried fish. Sounds pretty good eh? Well picture this...catch a fish in the sea, slice out it's guts, throw the whole thing into the deep fryer and put it on my plate. I was like oh wow thanks for not wasting the eyes or fins. I noticed later that everywhere here serves the fish like that. I still ate it but have ordered chicken since although even one of my chicken dishes came with what was basically fishbone soup so I guess you can't avoid the stuff regardless. I have had Spanish lessons for 2 days now at 3 hours per day and it is pretty difficult. I was given the impression that I was going to have a teacher who would be able to answer my questions in English, but my teacher Yolanda is definitely not fluent in English. So I do learn some, but when I have a question it is like trying to ask a 3 year old a math problem, just pure confusion. After today's lesson I am heading to Tayrona National Park which is supposed to have a great coast and good hiking. Please email, Mike.

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Town of Taganga

Days 15, 16

I made it to the coast! Bogota to Taganga, 643 miles total. Yesterday was my 9th day on the road and I must say I had no idea how tough the last 2 days would be to get here. On day 8 I rode 112 miles and yesterday 68. It wasn't quite as flat as the previous 3, and the heat was unbearable. I will not elaborate on the ride as I did on my previous big push, but to say the least I am a bit weak and sore today. In my last post I mentioned how inaccurate the signs are. Well to end my stetch to the Carribean with maximum irritation, when I approached the mile that should have been my last based on the last sign close to 60 miles back, I ended up having 11 more to go.

As mentioned to some before I thought it would be a good idea to park it for a bit so that my legs don't fall off, I can enjoy Colombia the way most do with some tourist activities and so I can spend some time working on Spanish. After asking a lot of fellow travellers for their input I decided to stay at Casa Holanda in Taganga, a small fishing town right next to Santa Marta. There are two Dutch people who run this joint as well as a Spanish school that gives I believe 25% of the proceeds to send Colombian children to school (they sent 88 to school last year) so I figured this is money well spent. There is also a ton of diving outfits here and Tayrona National Park is pretty close so there's heaps to do while I 'recover'.

Since most all I have been doing is riding since my past post I'll mention a bit more on the road and specifically the poor driving, now that I have survived it and won't scare my family describing the conditions. To say the least, for any cyclers reading this in the future, it is true that Colombia is very good for cycling due to the proximity of places to stay, mass amount of food and water available, smooth pavement, challenging hills and a plethora of local cycling fanatics. However this is somewhat offset by the fact that Colombian drivers, in my opinion, are some of the most careless in the world. In my 9 days on the road I passed 5 bad accidents that had just occurred, including 2 flipped semi's and a head on with a semi, and obviously none of these were due to storms or ice. While riding I regularly witnessed semi's passing semi's and tour buses alike around blind bends on two lane roads. Everytime I saw this I thought, "haven't they considered that if something is coming in the other direction there is no where for any of the vehicles to go without colliding"? Apparently not. That's why it's really important to stay on the shoulder of the road especially when approaching bends. I've seen really crazy driving cultures especially in Guinea and China but here is the first place I've seen the extremely risky behaviour committed by
most everyone across the board and at speeds well over double the speed limit most all the time. The government has some huge campaign out with bill boards that read "no mas estrallas en la via", which means no more stars in the roadway. I don't know how long Colombia has done this but there are big yellow stars painted on the road where people have died. In all honesty it was quite depressing especially on a slow bike as I passed these things, sometimes more than 10 in a day. On a more entertaining note, 2 days ago I was cruising along to see a pick up truck, surprisingly a brand new Chevy, flying towards me at about 80 mph (typical so far). Suddenly I heard a bang and sparks spraying from behind the vehicle as it fishtailed back and forth. One of the rear wheels had fell off and was rolling along side it. Now I wasn't as worried about the truck as I could see the driver for the most part has it under control. But anyone who has seen a wheel pop off before knows that for one they pick up speed and two they bounce and change directions like a punt return that slipped through a receivers arms. So I literally laid my bike down and got in what probably looked like a wrestling stance ready to dart the opposite way of where ever that wheel was flying towards. Luckily it came no where near me, because I'm pretty sure a truck wheel moving at 80 mph wouldn't simply bounce off a person. So anyways that's Colombia's number one downfall for anyone considering riding here. But maybe that's in all of South America and the fact that cycling is bigger here helps. I must say most truckers try to give you space and most people give a beep or a "you can do it" cheer instead of being angry you're using the road as we see often in the states.

After reaching Taganga and settling in at this bed and breakfast joint I went down to the beach to celebrate the end of my big ride with some beers and met a nice dude, a young professional from Bogota, here on a diving vacation. He was waiting for his wife to arrive tomorrow so in true Colombian fashion we hung out at a table and chatted it up over I think four fresh juices for at least 3 hours. He was a world traveler, lived in London for a bit, and had recently quit his job in Bogota and was reading a book on entreprenuership. I of course could talk to a dude like that for ages so we discussed ideas for his next endeavor and also details about this country. If only I was fluent in Spanish I would be tempted to take up some of these ideas of my own, as Colombia is in the process of a massive tourism boom since their reputation has seen such positive increases and there is so much to see here (mountains, coffee, Carribean beaches, river sports, hiking, archeological sites, etc.). It's funny this guy, Juan Carlos, was pretty knowledgeable of what I do and when I told him who I work for he said that it's "a great company but everyone is afraid to work for them in Bogota because they make you work too much". I laughed pretty hard at that one, I guess some things don't change no matter where you go! I did however then tell him that they do have some flexibilities, I mean, look at me! Well today is my first Spanish class and I'm going to arrange for hitting the reef later in the week so take care everyone.

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Near Santa Marta

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Near Fundacion - tropical forest

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Riding along the Andes

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Flat roads

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Early morning north of curumani

Days 12,13,14

Finally got the blog current as of today, Sunday. This will cover days 5,6 & 7 on the road, which have been very much quiet and long ones, as I am now just trying to cover ground making my way North to the coast. I covered 71 miles today, 45 yesterday and 86 the day before. I'm currently at a total of 465 miles over 7 days. I doubt anyone was wondering, but my GPS waypoints are way behind on my map. I need to hit an actual computer to update it. Yesterday was a short ride due to a huge storm that lasted from about 3am until 10 in the morning. They were right when they said that when it does rain here it pours! At one point I was riding with my entire tire submerged in about an inch of water on the hills! All these people were sitting of their porches or under their gass huts warhhing the storm and givin me looks like what on earth is that Gringo doing. So I guess I'll elaborate on life on the road here a bit since that has been all I've been doing lately. First I will share with you that what I didn't mention while writing about my time with Tony and Sandra is that they took me to a small market / mall to find pepper spray to guard myself against those crazy dogs. I first had created a weapon by shortening my thin bike lock cable and outing a big climbing carabiner on the end. However after a few practice swings I realized that this needed to be a last resort because it would surely knock their teeth ou if I hit one square in the chomper. So anyways about 20 miles out from Piedequesta sure enough a prety mean brown mut started chasing me and it was clear this one meant business lips raised and all. I started to pedal my heart out to out run him and then thought, well u asked for it buddy. Surprisingly calmy I stopped frantically pedaling, whipped the mace out of the makeshift holster I pu on my bike frame and gave him one quick shot in the left eye. Luckily since we were both moving quick the wind was on my side and carried the 1 second spray directly where I wanted it. Presto! Stopped the mut right in his tracks, vigorously shaking his head back and fourth as he retreated. It worked! Along the way there were some other ticked off dogs but you could just tell by the way they chased you and barked that they were more less saying "hey move along bro". But then I approached this other fiesty mut prancing towards me as I rode. I didn't remove the mace but released the safety on it and stared him down with my hand on the bottle. He stared back, we both passed eahother and when I turned my head to see if he kept going the other direction he also turned around to check if I was moving along as well. I couldn't help but laugh. It was like he knew I had a trick up my sleeve. Like we both non-verbally agreed that it just wasn't worth messing with eachother and we best leave eachoher alone, or else it would get ugly. Enough about the loco perros.

So another thing interesting to this country I've failed to mention is the signage. First off, to my initial irritation and now amusement, the distances to given destinations are all wrong. I know because for the first few days I was taking the time to convert the kilometers to miles in my head and then making a mental note of what mile on my bike computer I would hit when I approached a city or my destination, only to have ten more miles to go after hitting that point. The closest the signs have been is within 5 kilometers. One time they were exactly off by what would have been correct in miles. I couldn't help but think, was that a coincidence or is there a chance someone doing the job literally clicked their distance marking equipment from metric to standard? Regardless now I just do the math, round up a good ways and see how far off a given sign is in KM to the next big city. Also regarding signs the speed limit markers are officially the biggest waste of steel in the world. All drivers go double the speed limit at a minimum and often while driving in the opposite lane because it looks smoother or they just figure they'll stay there to pass all others in their way. Hilarious. Also, I find it strange that after riding 465 miles I have only seen 4 signs that label what route you're on (which happens to be 45 for those following my map) but yet every single bridge is labled with a clear metal sign, even when the bridge is just a continuation of the road with one of those big silver drain pipes running under it. Literally about 50 bridge signs so far.

While I'm poking fun, I will also mention how humerous it is (again humerous now, iritaring at first) that most Colombians really want to be helpful, even when they have no clue what they are talking about. Tony brought this one to my attention when we would ask someone in the city streets and the market where something was and their hand would instantly fly up in the 1 o'clock position as they said with complete assurance something to the tune of "yea the man in the red booth sells that", only to be completely full of crap. I decided to also take a turn at amusing myself with this matter by asking someone yesterday about how far it is to Santa Marta? I obviously already know how far it is, to be exact 156 miles from here and about 2.5 days by bike. The first woman said "8 hours in car so whatever that is by bike". The next person said "5 hours by car, 3 days by bike" with such confidence you would think he built the road. Lastly I asked the girls that run the hotel I'm at and they said at least 5 days on a bike. Each time I just laughed and then gave a sincere "gracias" thinking to myself holy crap can anyone just say they don't know?

Anyways so about the ride, day 5 on the road was the last in the Andes which was a big relief for my legs but I must say pedaling over flatter terrain sure makes the days fo slower. This morning I had. Y first run in with another long distance cyclist, some German with mounds of gear piled all over his bike, literally looked like he was in the process of moving. When we got out from Aguachica to the main road I turned left to go anorth while he turned South. Like a little kids I ducked my head and said out loud "holy crap, he is so screwed". There's no way he's going to make it over the Andes with a bike loaded down like that. Literally it would be like someone connecting a small Uhaul to my bike over flat land and telling me to ride 60 miles a day. The one thing that has been nice about the flat lands are the mountains to the East as you may see in the pictures below. The clouds have hovered at midheight of the peaks for about 3 days now. It almost seems like one of those toys or old cartoons with the landscape backdrop on a paper loop that just keeps reeling around in repetition.

The nice thing about the rural roads is that they're pretty set up to accomodate truckers and thus cyclers. There are lots of little Tiendas selling candy bars, 'jugos natures', ice water in a bag, fruits etc. Today for instance I stopped to buy a huge slice of bright red orange Papaya, about the size and shape of a quarter football sliced long ways, for 50 cents. I stopped later at a grass hut open air barbeque joint that displayed the raw meat to you in hanging fashion infrint of the restaurant before you ordered it ss if this attracts customers. I stopped at another grass hut joint for a fresh juice, this one being moyacora. To make one like this they just throw two handfuls of the fruit in a blender with water, dice it up, strain it, and reblend with ice and sugar. That one was bitter but probably better for me.

I still havent had to stay in the middle of no where, by which I mean I've always made it to a town tbat has seperate places to eat, drink, get dessert at and stay at, although my options have been limited for the latter. Two nights ago was the roughest joint Ive parjed it in yet. The room was pretty much a tiny room with a matress on a concrete slab and a pipe over the toilet for a shower (cold water only of course), super hot and a steel door suitable for a cattle farm. However there was a great panaderia (bakery type shop) on the corner and a fan in my room, so that definetely helps make up for the downers. Most all the hotels are between 7 & 11 bucks a night and my usual fix of a set meal, hotel, ice cream or fresh juice, a beer and coffee and pastries in the morning comes out to be between $15 & $18per night which you can not beat. I mean it costs that for a train ride and one beer in Paris (my favorite city). When I got to this town (Curumani) to end today's ride I found an awesome juice bar and got an entire smoothie pitcher of bananas, strawberries and milk made fresh for only $1.25. Not only was it super cheap, it was the best one I've had yet. The really nice little Colombiana who made it came out to sit with me and ask how it was which was really surprising as it is not standard here to be asked if you like your food. The service is great and really fast everywhere, but they usually figure if you don't like it that's your problem. Anyways I was glad to tell the girl it was the best I've had in Colombia and we talked for a fair bit about real basic stuff. We understood over half of what each of us were saying, which for me is a huge success, and it reminded me that I was hoping to have opportunities like that all the time. However that's pretty tough here because people speak very little English and it only really makes sense to converse with someone as slow speaking as me if I am asking a question or buying something. Ok well that is plenty to cover my last 3 days. Take care all.

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Cows and the Andes

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En route to Curumani

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En rout to Aguachica

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Rip Negro

Days 10,11

Wednesday was my 4th day on the road and another extremely rough ride, however the most beautiful yet as well. I was on the road heading north of San Gil by 6:15 and right away it was 15 miles of climbing. I must say it didn't bother me as much to start off that way as I was hoping to get whatever up hill there was out of the way. As you can see below, the mountain roads were pretty intimidating but also had quite the views. I stopped at an old trucker restaurant type place that reminded me of the places in the middle of no where out West in the U.S. Soon I reached Chicamocha national park and canyon which was no Grand Canyon but extremely impressive and by far the most scenic road I've ever rode. After climbing to the top you could see the road ahead carved into the side of the canyon weaving downward for miles. It was such a relief to see the road ahead and across the canyon that kept going downhill knowing that I had miles of coasting ahead of me. It was also pretty cool to see big trucks way across the canyon and know that I would be passing them in a couple miles while they had their Jake brakes fully engaged. Of course this great moment came to an abrupt halt when I reached the valley below, crossed the river and started about a 12 mile steep climb while all those trucks I passed smoked past me uphill leaving thick billows of exhaust for me to inhale. Something I forgot to mention before that came up again on my way to Piedequesta was the occassional psychopathic dog that would come after me as if I just stole his life savings of bones. They're really sly those dogs, for example after spotting me riding along they would slowly prance towards me at an angle, looking ahead at something else and me out of the corner of their eye only to then expose their fangs and start furociously barking and chasing me. This was the second one to almost catch me and I must say that the little dudes are quick.

I made it to Piedecuesta by about 1 just in time to have lunch with Tony, Sandra and Sandra's daughter Catalina at their farmhouse turned golf course about 2 miles down a dirt road. Tony is a guy that grew up in the Pittburgh area and went to school with my Uncle John, spent the majority of his career organizing golf outings and assisting famous golfers and corporate clients at clubs around the world. He met his Colombian wife Sandra at one of his outings and after marrying her about 4 years ago packed up shop and moved to Colombia with her to start a daunting project called "A Game for All" (check it out at - agameforall.com), which is their small country golf course opened here in effort to bring the game to children and others in Colombia who otherwise would have no chance at holding the club of what is a rich man's sport here. To say the least about my two night stay with Tony and Sandra, they were some of the friendliest, hospitable and generous people I have ever met. As many of you know I travel and meet people a lot and thus play the role of a "mooch" more than I would like to. Of all my encounters I can only think of one time where I met people who gave me such royal treatment and that was with the Tuffins in Australia (if you guys are reading I hope all is well in Ayr!). Man as soon as I got there I had a hot shower and amazing lunch with a big glass of what is like a mixture of fresh squeezed juice and fruit salad with chunks of tropical fruit all through it, very popular here. That was followed by one of about 7 coffees over those 2 days, a round of pitch and put on Tony's pride and joy, some beers, a tour of their garden (which amazingly has about 20 fruits), a personal pan pizza making session, and finally drinks and smokes over great conversations at night. While trading stories Tony mentioned that I lived close to one of his favorite courses thunder hill, and then I was like "dude I worked there in highschool"! Talk about a small world eh? The next day was equally great with a tour of Bucaramanga to the north, a trip to the local market which was a lot like China with much less people, more great meals, more golf, beers and coffee. Sandra's sister and her daughters came over for the last half of the day and it was quite an experience as well. You think women, especially sisters in the US can talk fast? Try experiencing the same in a Latin American country. Tony and I were basically ducking through a warzone of machine gun sprays of comments and questions for the afternoon, all we needed was camo and helmets. I can say this because quite humorously Tony is open about not understanding a lot of what he hears when people talk fast, especially the women and even more humerously he pretends to like it that way. We talked a lot about the complications of getting things done in a non-western country (let alone build a golf course) and it gives me all the more respect for their efforts.

You know it's funny when you have an opportunity like that to get to know people in such an environment. Even though it's short you leave with this feeling like you left your aunt and uncle's house and will be back again or something. For better or worse, you realize that these people now know you just as well if not better than some in your non-immediate family. Regardless I couldn't have asked for a better stay.
To elaborate on some of the traditional foods which Sandra made a big effort of making for me to experience, the coffee tasted great and was made the traditional way of boiling water, adding the grounds and straining with a cheesecloth type strainer. After expressing that I love Guava juice she made it fresh with blending the fruit with some water and sugar, a real thick and mildly sweet juice. We had brebidos (I may have butchered that one) figs boiled in sugar water, refrigerated and toped with caramel, and mute (moo-Tay) which is tripe soup with potatoes, corn and cilantro. Tony and I were ironically joking about how we would digest the cow digestive organs. By the way don't knock something like that til you try it, it was great. With that dish she made Yuca, a potato like root with a better texture. Sandra also made arepas which is like a fried cornbread patty with cheese and panels melted within, and also both morning had eggs and chorizo which is pretty close to sausage. That last night we hung out on their porch of their beautiful house, all open air spaces, quite traditional of here and relaxed a bit. Right next to their place is a panel factory (panels is a product of sugar cane that is produced into waxy molasses like blocks for cooking, teas etc.) and you could smell the strong sweet aroma coming from the boilers carried over by the breeze. It was so nice I thought to myself I would pay extra to have a house next to a joint like that. The next morning I we had an early breakfast (for me at least...5:45), Sandra packed me some mangos and as mentioned they sent off in the nicest manner. Hopefully you all don't mind my detailed account here, however I wrote a lot so I remeber as much as possible there. Take care and please email.

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Some idiot

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Chicamocha canyon/ river

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Chicamocha canyon road

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Chicamocha canyon

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Wild west Trucker stop

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Approaching the canyon

Hills north of San Gil

- perfect start to my morning