Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Sugar Cain and Abel Builders

October 2nd to 7th

We finally leave Esperanza's hospitality and her fridge full of goodies behind in San Gil and head towards Bogota. Tunja is the next major city on route and capital of Boyaca province; 115 miles distant. 115 miles uphill!

We begin along the Fonce river, tracing it's path as it meanders serenely upwards towards Socorro - a town constrained on all sides by steep green peaks draped with whispy clouds....


There after the road gets a bit more serious about going up and the trail has been brutishly hacked from the living rock ...


Later it carves a swath through the trees....


Either way we ride in shadow and the air is damp and heavy clinging wetly to the mountainsides as we look back into the Fonce valley with the river now way below us. It grows noticeably colder....


We overnight in Oida where the locals are overwhelmed by (probably) the first gringos to stop in town....


Next day dawns bright and clear and the trees are radiant in bloom....


With Sue not feeling well and the road still climbing we fall well short of planned destination Barbosa and are forced to stop at a roadside 'Hospedaje' (hotel). We meet Alexandro who proudly shows us his lake where he breeds Trout and Mojarra (a perch like bony fish) for his restaurant. He also prepares his own 'Oreada' a piece of steak marinaded in 'Panela' (brown sugar made from sugar cane) and hung up to age for a few days. It's just delicious barbecued with chorizo sausages!

Just try not to worry too much about any fancy notions of hygiene standards....


The sugar cane for the Panela is harvested locally and we see hundreds of men out working the fields hacking cane with machetes and loading it on to donkeys for the trip to the boiling plants we also see dotted along the road. Once the cane is boiled and reduced, you are left with hard dense blocks of brown unrefined sugar-cane....


Alexandro built one side of his hospedaje using a unique design constructed from bamboo. A team of builders is currently working on phase two and Alexandro is justifiably proud of his expanding empire. He's also impressed by our trip and so, cuts us a fantastic deal - $13 (half price) for the room. With Sue out of action he really helps us out as we stay two nights.

High ceilinged to combat the heat of the day, light an airy to make the most of the exposed bamboo - It's a beautiful place. Cold at night mind and the number of blankets on our bed is growing with each day's climb....


On a day of not moving we get to know the building crew who are endlessly fascinated by the kit we are carrying. The stove is always the star of the show as we brew up outside our room, but our waterproof panniers and pans that stack inside each other also brings 'Aaaahhhs' of appreciation. I feel like a conjurer revealing increasingly mystical objects from a top hat. They are a great bunch of guys and gal, who delay us leaving by a good couple of hours....


We get delayed even further after a tough 6 mile climb when I discover I still have the room key and have to go back. I meet Alexandro 200m from his place just setting off in his car to track me down. If only I hadn't noticed, he would have caught up with us on the road and I wouldn't have to tackle the climb a second time. Ho hum. It was worth it though as he was just so grateful I was on my way back.

Taxis in Barbosa. I know not why???


After Barbosa, the climbing starts in earnest as we turn through 90 degrees and head directly into the Cordillera Oriental. At the apex of yet another uphill struggle we get a glimpse of where the road heads next. That canyon over there and I can see four or five hundred metres of hard won altitude disappearing in the next few miles....


It like riding into a giant rock maw as the road angles down and the rock walls rear up around us to close out the sky. It's an incredible ride past a number of rushing waterfalls....


Then we are in the waterfall as the thin line of sky bursts and spears us with a million icy darts of rain. I cannot remember being cold like this since Canada. It feels like we are bombarded by icicles.


Finally the sky grows as the rock walls suddenly shrink back. Within the space of half a mile we pass out of the canyon and find ourselves on a flat plane. It is like emerging from a tunnel!

Looking back at the mouth of the pipe....



We reach Arcabuco cold and wet with our breath clearly visible as steam on the air. The hotelier asks me to write my name as they always struggle to translate 'Sweeney'. I drip all over her book and struggle to hold a pen in a frozen claw. We're at around 2600m (8700ft) now and altitude has an incredible effect on temperature, especially in the wet! What I would give for a hot shower now.

This is our (laughably, so called) 'Hot' shower....


Low powered electric heads that make more noise than heat. You have to choose between enough lukewarm water to actually get you wet, or a slightly warmer dribble that would take about a week to wash off soap. They are common in South America and depending on how badly wired they are determines how much of a shock you get if you touch them. Some you can actually feel the charge in the air within a few inches as they earth themselves through your wet skin. Makes for an interesting game of 'chicken' - they are a joy to use!

I actually sleep indoors with a hat on and the next morning the pleasure of slipping into cold wet cycle shorts awaits.

We don our sodden gear and head out into the sun. It rained all night and the sky is empty. Truly, I have never seen air so clear. You can see for miles and in stark contrast to yesterday, it's warm in the sun and we dry out and warm up in no time.

The vast green land is dotted with private mining operations, some for building materials, some for emeralds....


The hills are full of them apparently and you will be approached in towns by shifty characters offering them to you wrapped up in paper envelopes. Very cheap apparently, but as I can't tell an emerald from a green gob-stopper - we haven't bought too many yet.

The climb finally tops out at around 3200m (10,600ft) and we drop in to a vast saucer shape depression where the air suddenly warms a degree or two.


It reminds me of Poland with it's rich pasture amongst pine covered slopes leading up to imposing peaks. We climb over the edge of the other side of the saucer and get our first glimpse of Boyaca province's capital; Tunja.


It a 400m roller coaster straight down to the city. We are hoping Tunja will be good to us. It's a growing realisation that our two month visa for Colombia is rapidly running out and Ecuador is still a long, long way away. We need to talk nicely to some officials and hopefully get permission to stay a little bit longer....

Monday, October 25, 2010

Watersports

September 27th to 1st October

San Gil is the adventure sports capital of Colombia set in a lovely valley on the banks of the River Fonce. It's pretty touristy and correspondingly expensive, with upmarket boutique hotels and just a couple of backpacker hostels. The hostels are really cashing in on the 'Lonely Planet' regulars knowing that they will pay however much just for some English speaking company. They charge even more than the nicer hotels so we can justify checking into a fantastic little family run place and convince ourselves that we are still saving money....

Esperanza, the owner notices it's Sue's birthday from her passport when we check in and makes a huge fuss, promising to cook us a traditional Colombian breakfast the next day to celebrate. She just couldn't be more welcoming and friendly offering us the use of her kitchen and full access to the contents of her fridge. This is a huge mistake; schoolboy error! She knows we are cyclists; but the glare I get from Sue has me promising not to abuse her trust and scoff the lot.

On the riverside is 'National Park Gallineral' which is probably best described as 'absolutely charming'. Trees seem to have been draped in decorative Spanish moss just for the occasion of Sue's birthday and it almost looks like a film set for 'Rivendell' in 'Lord of the Rings'....


They've really tidied up a bit of nature along the river Fonce and a couple of it's tributaries with rambling brick paths taking you off into what seems like a wilderness set right in the town centre. There's an outdoor pool but we don't feel like swimming as the skies turn grey and sprinkle us with cool rain. It adds a secret garden feel as the locals seek cover and the air develops hints of ozone and loam....


We shelter under a bridge while the river fills up....


Before heading back to town for a pizza dinner followed by huge chocolate ice cream deserts.

All that rain is good for 'Canotaque' or white water rafting, and now we've got all that romantic birthday duty stuff out of the way, we can crack on with what we really came here for! Rio Fonce is grade 3+ which means fun enough, but you (probably) won't die. Since Sue has never done this it's a good place to start and we head down to 'Exploracion Colombia Guides' to book a raft.

The guides are really cool guys who really slow down their instructions so we can follow along. Luckily we saw Ben Hur in Spanish a few days ago so words like 'oar' and 'rowing' are no problem - we got all that from when he was a galley slave. There are four of us in the boat with three guides, so they are really taking their safety seriously and it's all top notch equipment. It's about a half hour drive to the start and maybe an hour and a half in the boat for only US$18, a real bargain....


The river is a blast! All the recent rain sees the river in spate with good size rapids and we slam into them as the boat bucks and rolls. You have to work hard to drag the boat through to calmer water and it's a real laugh. At one point the guides capsize the boat and tip us into the drink so we can practice a rescue by tipping the raft right-side and hauling each other aboard. Away from roads and buildings on the flatter sections you have time to lazily watch the world go by and we see eagles perched in high trees watching us with glassy-eyed stares.

It's such a good day out, and the guides were so reassuring that Sue goes from novice to instant expert and wants to take on Rio Suarez - a grade 5+ monster! Grade 5 means "oh god... oh god we really could die here" - "I know - shut up and paddle you fool!!" etc etc. Well, it's big scary stuff anyway.

But.... You need a group and it's a bit expensive and Rio Suarez is a couple of hours away and my hair might get wet and..... well we change our minds - all that talk of death consequences for failure and stuff.... so we decide to abseil down an 80 metre waterfall instead.

Next day, same team, but no van. So the guides flag down a taxi and load ropes and harnesses into the boot. No worries.

It's a bit of a hike to the river through beautiful countryside and you can really see the valley that San Gil nestles within....


We edge along a dirt track and suddenly you can hear a quiet roaring sound that gets louder with every step. Suddenly we're on a ledge and the river is passing serenely by our side, blissfully unaware that it is about to make a brief, failed attempt at flight before swashing down onto jacked rocks below....


That "What the Hell was I thinking...." moment....


Hearts beating, hearts in mouths; hearts beating in mouths.... and over the edge....

Bravely I send Sue first.... just so I can keep an eye on her you understand....


There are two drops and the first one is handled OK. The second one is right through the heart of all that heavily plunging water. We rope up again and step off backwards into a void trusting to nothing but the ropes and the guide's expertise.

Down a bit.... down a bit....
and SLAAAAM!!
The water hits you full in the face and smashes against your chest ripping the breath away. It's freezing cold and massively heavy and the rope gives a bit under the new strain. Hit the brakes and bounce on this gently stretching piece of string that suddenly looks a lot thinner than the thick rope I started with.

It's 50 more metres down through rushing, thundering water and you try to catch short, panicky breaths of air between gob-fulls of cold spluttery liquid determined to choke you. All the while your ears adjust to the din and you rock and spin on the rope buffeted by violent noise. It's like being assaulted from several different directions at once....



And finally you descend into a calm, chilly pool and swim out past the raging torrent, before looking back at the route you just took....


It's a rapid, crazy, surprisingly draining experience and we trudge down a narrow track back to the road not quite sure what just hit us!

That punch drunk feeling refuses to go away as our guides take us to a cafe for coffee and cakes while we await our return taxi. Am I still groggy or am I really sharing this place with a herd of goats??!?

Baaaaaaahhh cake!!


San Gil is fantastic, Esperanza couldn't have been more friendly. She fed us and invited us to meet family and friends and also to join in with her bible reading and choir circles (maybe a step too far). We over stay once more and "lose" more time to this wonderful country.

Next leg - more climbing, and on towards the central highlands and the capital - Bogota....

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Into the Abyss

Sept 25th to 27th

San Gil is a mere 94 kilometers (59 miles) away - child's play.... except that the 'Chicamocha Canyon' lies between us and it. Chicamocha is a beast - a vertically walled, 1500 metre (one mile) chasm in the earth resembling the scar from a mighty axe swung on a godly scale. The road to San Gil drops dramatically from top to bottom and then winds tortuously up the other side.

Initially we climb away from Bucaramanga from around 1100 metres (3650 feet) up to the canyon rim at around 1500 metres (5,000 feet). At this kind of altitude, the temperature has become more comfortable and you can attack the climbs with a bit more energy. That said, we know we have to drop to a more tropical 550m (1800ft) and then climb back out of the abyss. That is a job for the cool of morning so we decide to make it a two day ride; stopping on the canyon floor.

Our first view of the drop before the road loops back on itself and heads off into that cleft....


Watching the suicidal overtaking by coaches and wagons on totally blind bends is sobering and I vow to just ride faster than anything else on the road to stay out of trouble. Annoyingly it starts to pour with rain at this point - ensuring that my brakes are too wet to work and I now have no choice....

So follow 10 miles of continuous downhill through stinging rain. It all gets a bit lively lining up the bends and trying to scrub off speed with waterlogged, useless brakes. The weight of our bags just conspire with gravity to keep on pushing and it's a hair raising descent!

It's all over in a blur of speed! Then the gradient shallows and the rock walls rear up around us and we are suddenly close to the bottom....


By chance there is a newly built hotel just before the bridge that crosses the Chicamocha river and we have dropped 1000m (3300ft) in the blink of an eye. It is noticeably warmer on the canyon floor and we have the treat of an early stop in an air conditioned room for just US$12. In contrast to much of Central America, Colombia has been a pleasant surprise in that there seems to be a certain pride in finishing buildings off. There are far less protruding bits of steel and wire to gouge or incinerate yourself on and some things even get painted. It's funny what you get used to, but that kind of stuff feels like a luxury!

Disappointing as it was to see the canyon under grey skies for the descent, we are fortunate to wake up to clear blue skies for the climb.

Atmospheric tendrils of water vapour rise up from the river as the day begins to heat up and the dawn sun just clips the top of a rock wall two thirds of a mile above us. It's 6am and there is a full moon in the blue sky and it's a perfect day to ride....


A 500 foot long bridge crosses the choppy brown water of the Chicamocha and then the road angles sharply upwards. The canyon rim above us on this side is at 1850m (6,200ft) and it's gonna be a long haul. Here the canyon runs North-South and we climb the eastern wall - meaning we are going to be in deep shadow until we crawl out into the sunlight at the top....


This is great news as it's pretty hot in direct sunlight. It also creates some dramatic lighting that changes throughout the climb - this is shaping up to be a good day!


Again it's a bizarre combination of hardy cactus more suited to the long, parched dry season happily growing alongside large-leaf plants suited to a seasonal rain forest. Each type of vegetation represents the extremes of Colombia's annual cycle.

I love a proper climb! None of that wishy-washy, indecisive undulation rubbish. If you're going to climb, you just want to go up! I hate all that up-a-bit, down-a-bit messing around. Chicamocha is a proper climb, complete with 'high penalty for failure' drops off the edge over a (very) low wall....


Contrary to the insane overtaking we saw on the descent, the climb is treated with respect and trucks and cars for once, give us, and each other a bit of space.

We chug away - bottom gear grinding and the river falls away turning from a wide torrent into a distant trickle....


Higher still and the road starts to look like a narrow track and we look down on the clouds....


21 kilometers (13 miles) later and 1400m (4600ft) higher we finally drag ourselves from this deep rift in the land. Sue seems rather pleased with herself....


And why not - you can just make out 'Pescadero' village where we overnighted waaaaay down below her arm and we are even looking down on the five foot wing span of black vultures....


The gradient evens out a little and you can feel the change as different leg muscles begin to get used. It's been a reasonably tough climb, but just jaw droppingly spectacular. That changes as we round a corner and it's suddenly all gone a bit 'Disney Does Nature' as we hit the entrance to Chicamocha National Park....


We stop in the car park for a water break and a sandwich. Locals stepping off the gondola that rises in smooth mechanical luxury up from the valley floor stare at us like we just landed from Mars, but in keeping with most Colombians we have met so far, they are keen to chat and are warm, open and friendly.

Everyone here is either a keen cyclist or knows someone who is - most people cycle for leisure or transport. We play guess the weight of the bike and a couple of the blokes always try and pick mine up - usually without success. People are always cool when you say that you cycled all the way from Canada, but stare in open amazement when you tell them you are going to Bogota next - just 200 miles away.

We think it's all over but there are more climbs to do yet....


And there are other stunning gorges to ride past....


A two day ride turns into three when we see another place to stay right at the top of yet another awesome ravine....


I can't imagine what it would cost to stay overlooking this in Europe, but again we get a private room for what is becoming the standard price in Colombia - US$12. Food in the restaurant next door is more expensive than normal - US$5 for soup and a steak dinner!

It's only 20 miles or so into San Gil, so we break the next day up with a couple of stops. It's great that you can even think to stop and look at stuff on the way. In the torrid lowlands, we were always clock watching and fearing to delay as the temperatures soared. Altitude has it's benefits. First stop is at the 'quaint' little colonial village of Curiti where we haul our bikes into the back room of a restaurant for some lunch....


The second is at 'Pozol Azul', a lovely series of babbling water falls for coffee....


The ride from Bucaramanga to San Gil must go down as one of the more spectacular rides we have done, probably since Guatemala..... well, maybe with the exception of the tougher crossing of the Continental divide in Panama. We are starting to feel that we are getting to the Andes proper now and this is just a taste of what's to come....

Can't wait!

Saturday, October 9, 2010

An Aborted Attempt at Flight

Sept 16 to 24th

Bucaramanga is supposed to be a great city - the incredibly friendly locals, the bustling street markets, the night life....

Wouldn't know.... I just spent five days in bed groaning with liquid insides.

The only thing I saw.... apart from the bathroom (which is not a nice photo for the blog) is this view from my window....


South America is not being kind to me so far. Contrast 2 bouts of illness and three punctures in just three weeks on this trip with zero illnesses and zero punctures in six months on my last trip. I must have offended the cycle gods somehow, but I know not what I have done. I resolve to clean my bike... grease some bearings, lubricate all cables and sprinkle copious amounts of holy water on my tyres.... if only I could just stop running to the bathroom for long enough.

Time is awasting and after five days staring at the walls, I am strong enough to ride again.

We still haven't managed to get the hang of all this Spanish signage as we head out on the motorway....


The lost days are a real shame as we had arranged to meet two couples from the Stahlratte crew for a para-gliding course on the outskirts of Bucaramanga. They are travelling much more sensibly than us using the internal combustion engine and so, arrived days in advance of us. After my malingering they are now almost finished. Only the legendary inefficiency of South American countries and a badly organised course has delayed them sufficiently for us to meet them at all!

The paragliding school is located at the top of a steep climb.... obviously! You need a steep sided hill to get airborne, otherwise the whole thing just becomes some silly running around with a big kite. I climb the hill on weak rubbery legs, but the views back over the city are well worth the effort....


As we near the summit we can see distant paragliding wings in the air. A couple of soaring birds seem to confer and debate over clumsy human efforts to ride the airways that they master so effortlessly....


By the time we finally arrive Robert, Madeline and Mark have over 20 flights under their belts and are really getting the hang of the tricky launches and landings. They are becoming expert flyers and are close to qualifying. Robert might have been better taking a basic course in knots though....


Watching them inflate these big wings and launch themselves towards the sheer edge is stirring stuff....


Legs pumping the colourful sails bulge and inflate, then begin to gain loft; suddenly they are running on air as they float and then soar off the ground with the stunning cityscape as a backdrop....


We sign up for a tandem flight to whet our appetite before taking the course and watch the experts until late in the day....


The school has accommodation right by the launch zone and it's a perfect place to hang out and catch up with friends. It's still very much the rainy season in Colombia but it's warm enough to hang out on the balcony. The evenings sound slick with the fizz of water on leaves.

All that rain makes the ground heavy with mud and a beer and food run in Mark's car turns into a fiasco when the car bogs down. Luckily, with extra muscle power on hand, we manage to push the car clear, but Sue needs to make a note not to stand behind spinning wheels....


Unfortunately we do quite a lot of hanging about.... Inexplicably it takes two days to get our tandem flights as instructors promise to arrive at 9am which in Colombia translates to 1pm and there is no chance to get our flights in.

Sue kills time in 'The Nest'....


While I check out the local wildlife. A two inch deadly looking waspy-anty thing that apparently packs a mean punch with that nasty stinger....


Even worse is this viper that hides in the grass. We only spot it when we see the resident cat stalking and stamping with it foreleg trying to draw it out. Brave cat - there is only one winner in that fight. He's coiled, agitated - ready to strike and does so as we crowd round to look. Fortunately no-one gets bitten....


Moving onto safer pursuits, Sue finally does get airborne....


When in South America you have to lose that western mania for efficient organisation and time keeping. These are just false expectations and lead to increases in stress levels. Nah... you just have to chillax and roll with that whole 'maƱana' thing. Things are definitely done differently here.... I get that. but here it's taken to the extreme!

The course should include transportation - a small matter of getting yourself and a now useless wing thing back up that big hill after landing. Sadly the van has not been purchased yet and the guys are hitching rides with locals or taking taxis which can waste a couple of hours a day. On one of the days, only a single instructor turns up and he mans the landing site, meaning there is no-one at the top to check equipment before launch. Inexperienced students are forced to check each other's safety harnesses and gear. Given that a rooky crashed into a tree the previous day it would have been nice for some extra tuition and reassurance before his next flight!!

Sadly I cannot recommend the school - there are just too many safety concerns and the lack of organisation was taking it's toll on the guys who were promised a 10 day course which was now running up to three weeks due to delays. My tandem pilot was taking a phone call during my launch and only noticed my harness was not attached properly when I asked him to check it. He was clipping me in and preparing to launch at the time!!

Shame 'cos the flight was awesome and I cannot think of a better location to fly....


It's a local beauty spot attracting loads of Colombians to enjoy the view....


At night, it really really takes your breath away....


It was great catching up with the guys from the boat, but I think we will leave the para-gliding for somewhere else. Tomorrow we head on to San Gil - another extreme sports destination and maybe we can find some thing dangerous to do there....