From Blazing Heat to Mountain Cool: A Colombian Ride
Mountains. Altitude. Heat. Cold. Rain. Thunders. More rain. More trucks. And a turkey. I started my ride in LaDanta with soaring heat, even at 7 am. The first few hours passed in a haze following a river. The highway now and then disappears for a quick moment for the 'crowd' to be sent through a 'desvio' (detour) back to a small village with multiple speed bumps, giving a chance to locals to tempt the captive audience with very colourful and tasty looking cocktails.
After I'm done with that boring part (for motorbike riders it's always about the scenic routes), the beautiful next road leads me through the banana plantations and lines of palm trees away from flats up into the mountains. I lose any sense of altitude or whether I'm going up, or am I going down. That state will continue for weeks to come. Continuous questions of how high am I? Am I going up, or am I going down today? Or rather, how many times and how big the amplitude will be. The best indicator so far is the temperature. Maybe it's because I have a thermometer incorporated into the clock of my motorbike. It is one variable I can monitor on demand, along with my speed.
The road today leads me to a new department of Colombia - Santander. Colombia is administratively divided into 32 departments and a Capital District. Until now, I have spent all my time in the department of Antioquia (which Medellín is the capital of), but I've heard a lot about Santander, and I have a very good feeling about that place. It might be because all I've been hearing was about the beautiful rides, spectacular views and friendly people awaiting me there. I later confirm all to be true.
I still can't believe how much I've gone through in that one day. It feels like there was enough diversity for a few rides. After going up and down the mountains, getting caught in a pretty spectacular and severe storm and getting some supplies for dinner, I finally arrived at what I thought was going to be my final destination for the day. And then crickets. No banner. No sign. Closed gate. A few dogs and a turkey. I had no mobile coverage to call. It was getting dark. I was in the middle of nowhere. At that point, I started wondering whether it would be one of those days when things go wrong and I end up with nowhere to sleep. I was in a remote place, soaked, and the road was not the type I'd be keen to ride in the total darkness. But I had no choice at that point. I went down the road until I found a house and asked an old lady where the place I was looking for was supposed to be. She sent me back where I came from. So I went back to the same gate. This time, with my engine revving louder, announcing my presence with confidence, beleving I was rightfully disturbing someone's piece and quiet. I had a reservation. Finally, the gate opened. I was saved. I was at the right place. There was a bed. And a view. Another of the spectacular kind.
The rest of the story in the video on youtube (@specjalai):
