Colombia V

 

Yep that’s five with a ‘V’.  Anyone remember that show V from the early 80s?  I think it was a miniseries.  If I have an connection I would dial up the good old IMDB and check it out but I’m writing this sans internet in my hotel room in La Paz, Bolivia.  I rotated my tires today and put in front brake pads.  Forgot to top off the fluid, will have to make sure I do that at the gas station in the morning.  First gas stop since the first week of December where Expedition Americas will have 2 members. Justin arrives seven hours from now.  Good thing I’m up late typing a blog post.  And with that, back to Bogota…

I awoke in the lovely, or at least passable, Hotel San Sebastian and opened my window to a brilliant sunny day, with busting streets below and Montserrat towering above.   I took my time getting going and called another name/stranger from IH8MUD.  Alvaro had sent me an email about a month before my trip. We chatted about plans for the day and decided to go to dinner that night.  Alvaro, his wife Liliana, and 14month old (I think) daughter Mariana.  They pulled up to the hotel in a beautiful silver 80 series Land Cruiser.  I had seen pics but in person it was even better. It is also nice to know trucks with snorkels get stared at in Colombia too. It’s not just an American thing.  I hopped in and we proceeded up the hill to a great view of the city.  Somewhere in passing I had mentioned to Alvaro that I was looking for a Bolivian guide book in English (odd that I’m now in Bolivia writing this post) next thing I know it we’re at a mall looking at 2 book stores. I kept thinking we were there for a restaurant but nope. Just a stop so the gringo could find a book he could read.  We struck out and climbed back in the truck for dinner.  On the way I discover we’re taking the scenic route past the LDS Temple in Bogota. I think Frank (from Cartagena) had mentioned to Alvaro that I was LDS and they thought it would be cool for me to see it. I took some pics for my friend D who is a facilities manager for the church and then we were off to dinner. I had what I’ll call a chicken stew.  It was really potato soup but was so loaded with veggies and meat it felt like a stew. Damn tasty.  After dinner they took me back to the San Sebastian. The long way. I was meeting them in the morning to go wheeling with some locals and instead of leaving me to my own devices they drove the very route I would need to take to get to their home.

Morning came WAY too early. We were supposed to meet the rest of the group at 7 which meant a 6:15 start for me.  I drove the empty Sunday morning street of Bogota to Alvaro’s home.  We loaded up and set out for the meeting place.  A group gather, then another group showed up, next thing I know there are 20 trucks in the gas station parking lot headed out on separate wheeling trips.  I took a ton of pics, introduced myself. Forgot every single name in the group I was with and off for the hills we went. Along the way I was truly shocked at the number of cyclists out on the road.  Thousands.  Yep that’s right thousands of riders were headed for the hills as well. I stopped count after the 15th group with more than 50 riders.   We passed them for 30 miles.  Insane.

We stopped about 30 mins out at a roadside stand and noshed on some fresh bread for breakfast. I loaded up on the rolls, pan do bono I think, for a lunch of peanut butter and honey pan.  Another truck, our trail leader, joined us in the tiny town of San Francisco and within minutes were at the trailhead.  Along the way we I took dozens of pics of the amazing vistas, snowcapped volcano, gravity defying hillside farms and the locals staring at us as we drove through.

As we prepped for the trail, airing down, more introductions, arranging trucks, the nerves hit me pretty bad.  There is not a lot of mud wheeling to be had in Utah.  It’s a desert. Snow, slickrock, high speed dirt, yes. Mud no.  These guys were in their element. I was not.  I was the 4^th truck in the line right behind Alvaro.  As we began our way up the rocky, slick, muddy, narrow trail someone informs me that one of the guys had rolled his truck on this very trail.  Just what you want to hear when you have the heaviest, tallest truck in the bunch.  I did have one thing going for me.  I am a damn good driver. Wait I mean I was one of only 3 trucks with lockers front and rear.  I won’t bore you with the details of the trail but I will say Ruby Claire performed like the amazing beast she is.  Only 3 trucks didn’t use a winch.  The fj40 leading the group, me and Santiago in his Range Rover V8 powered, Defender 90.  Now the thing is in my neck of the woods, the winch is usually a sign of failure or humiliation.  It means you didn’t have the skill to get over the obstacle or made a mistake and got yourself stuck.  In the rain and mud of Colombia the winch is no different than a locker or big tires. Just a tool of the truck. No shame. No embarrassment. 

The thing that stood out the most for me about the day was exactly how normal it was. About the similarity of wheeling with my friends at home.  There was a lot of laughing. A lot of little kids on the trail. More laughing.  Guys giving each other crap. Guys helping each other out.  Now I couldn’t understand 99% of what was being said but I was laughing too. It’s contagious.  A few of the guys went out of their way to speak English with me. Some very well. Others just cheered me on and we did our best to communicate with my poor Spanish.  From the second we hit the road I felt like one of them. Not like an outsider.  Senor Connors from 10 countries away was welcomed into the group without hesitation. 

Then a funny thing happened which just sealed the deal for my long term friendship with Alvaro and Liliana.  I was out taking pics and hopped back in the truck for my turn at the hills. Liliana and Mariana were in my truck hiding from the rain and looking for a ride up to their truck.  I had the Dave Matthews Band, Live at Piedmont Park dvd playing, Warehouse was the song to be more precise.  Liliana started singing right along.  Come to find out her and Alvaro are huge fans. The only ones they know in Colombia.  (now I need to explain to those of you who don’t know me personally why this is so significant.  My first dmb show was August 2, 1996 at the Horde Festival at Park West, UT.  Since then I think I’ve seen 38 more shows, collected thousands of hours of live shows and travelled all over the country to see them.  And that just scratches the surface of my neurosis)

The rain hit pretty hard near the top of the trail and we set off back into Bogota. I said goodbye to the Fullsizes4x4 club, got separated from Alvaro and Santiago on the way back into the city and went straight to the hotel. It was a great day of wheeling. I laughed a lot, got wet and muddy and felt very much at home on the muddy hills of Colombia.  I put all the pics from that day here.

I hit the mall the next morning, and spent 20 mins arguing with the joker in the ticket booth for the parking lot. First he said I couldn’t park there because I was too tall. Yet it was an outside lot. Then, as the cars began to line up behind me I pointed out a Land Rover with a roof rack and gear just as tall as me. Then he tried to tell me I couldn’t park there because I wasn’t from Colombia.  Finally someone with more power showed up and told the kid he was an idiot and let me in.  Even now I still have no idea why he didn’t want me to park there.  I tried to find the DMB dvd for Alvaro but struck out as it hadn’t been released in Colombia. I had picked mine up in Costa Rica and was disappointed not to find a gift.  I ate at Crepes and Waffles again and went back to the hotel. Once again I went to dinner with Alvaro and Liliana. You’ve seen the pic of the two of us with our bibs on.  A nice steak.  Back to the hotel I burned some DMB for them and went to bed. In the morning I dropped it off and said goodbye.  It was then that Alvaro gave me some more good news. Santiago had spoken with his grandparents who lived on a farm in Southern Colombia near Cali.  They had welcomed me to camp on their property on my way to Ecuador.  Another generous offer from a stranger in Colombia. 

I have to head to the airport to pick up Justin in 6 hours so I’m calling it a night.  Tomorrow we’re off toward Sucre and the wilds of Bolivia.  Ideally I’ll have better luck with a connection than I’ve had today.  Apparently AT&T lost their Blackberry service today and thus no connection for me. I’m going to send this out from the hotel computer.