Day 43: Valdivia to Marmato

162 miles

I am simply in awe of these mountains. Today, I have truly fallen in love with the country of Colombia. Today was one of my top three favorite days of this entire trip along with day two and day four in no particular order. The natural beauty of the mountains and unique challenge of the winding road combined with the unfettered chaos of Medellin made today perhaps the most exciting day I’ve ever had on a bike. My body felt incredible as well. I may have only gone 160 miles, but that does not tell the whole story. I had over 17,000 feet of elevation gain along the way.

When I woke up and stepped outside the air heavy with fog and spray from the wet road soon soaked me to the bone. Immediately out the door of my hotel I began climbing, continuing the behemoth that I had started yesterday. For an hour and a half I climbed in the dark through the clouds until the sun started poking out, and I popped out above the cloud bank. I knew the mountains were going to be beautiful and my road was going to be unique, but I had tempered my expectations because October is the rainiest month of the year and I figured perhaps I would be shrouded in clouds my entire way through the Andes. How happy am I to say that this is not the case. The sun began to burn off the clouds hanging over the mountains, and I was greeted with an inspiring view down the valley that I had just climbed up. I could almost see all the way down to the Rio Magdalena, where I had been 8000 feet below just 12 hours earlier. I looked across the steep green mountains. I tried to take everything in, but it was almost too much at once. I traced the road up the side of the mountain watching little white specks race back-and-forth along the road. The jungle was punctuated by terraced fields and steep pastures. Small houses clung to the sides of the hills perch at all angles in every which direction. Tiny dirt paths wound along ridge lines at seemingly impossibly steep grades. Only in a few spots did the lush forest remain unmarred by human impact. The majority of the mountains showed the telltale signs of livestock grazing. The pink sky faded out into blue illuminating a whole new world. I could see so far down that the semis down in the valley looked like a little ants marching in a line. I seemed impossibly high up. Remember the 8,000 feet is about 1 1/2 miles of vertical. At the top of these mountain passes I feel like an eagle looking down upon my dominion. It helps make me feel incredibly small and appreciate the magnitude of these mountains that much more.

Once I got up to 8,000 feet the road continued to pitch up and down at shorter intervals for a couple of hours. I found myself in the high mountains on a very tumultuous plateau. The climbs kept coming one after another. 1000 feet here, 2000 feet there , but I never dropped below 7000 feet all morning. The whole time the sun continued to burn off great puffy clouds overhead, and I rode under increasingly clear skies. I thought for sure it was going to cloud in, but it continued to get clearer throughout the day. I rode on in utter shock of what I was seeing. I really can’t explain the beauty of these mountains and the pictures don’t even come close to doing it justice. Because everything is so green and the hills are a tapestry of fields and houses it is impossible for photos to capture the immensity of these mountains. It is really something you have to see in person. I can’t even really describe how amazing the views make me feel, I certainly can’t describe the views themselves. All day I kept telling myself “I’m speechless at what I’m seeing.” I still am speechless in the sense that I simply do not know how to capture in words how magnificent my views were today.

I saw more cyclists today than I have any other point on this trip and perhaps at any other point in my life. Colombia is a huge cycling nation. Behind soccer, cycling is by far the most popular sport here. On the international level Columbians are renowned for the climbing prowess. It’s easy to tell why they are such good climbers. All the cyclist I see here seem to be incredibly fit. There are essentially no flat roads so if you want to ride in Colombia, you have to enjoy the mountains. Professional cyclist from Colombia are notoriously small and skinny. They are lethal climbers, but a liability on the flats and an active detriment in time trials. While riding today, I found myself being passed on the hills, but on the downhills and on any brief flats, or low-grade climbs, I would fly by many of the surrounding cyclists. I could take anyone here in a time trial, but in a hill race, especially with my bike bags, I get absolutely blown out of the water by the Colombians.

In the early afternoon, I made one final climb and came to another pass. When I crested the pass I was sending a voice message to a friend, but I had to stop mid message. I was literally rendered speechless. As I peered over the edge of the pass, I could see straight down over 3,000 feet to the outskirts of Medellin below me. I had been going through massive mountain valleys and climbing the mountains around them all day, but this valley had more than just a river at the bottom. From way above, I could see a massive highway cutting through the bottom of the valley and on all sides dense development rose with the mountains. Residential high-rise condos scattered the hillside making the entire valley look like a sprawling maze of confusion. I took off down the descent, the biggest one I have had yet. There was a lot of traffic, but it was moving at about 30 miles an hour. Since the descent was over 3000 feet at 7% and incredibly twisty, I  ideally would’ve averaged well over 30 miles an hour. Tight descentsare my specialty. We have roads like these in Tennessee, granted only a couple miles long and instead of 10 miles, but as a kid these roads were always my bread and butter. I don’t know if I’m actually that good of a descender, but I’ve always had the ability to descend with the confidence of a cat with nine lives, and that all it takes to be a good descender (until you crash). I found myself zipping around the corners and passing cars and trucks at every available opportunity and at some opportunities which weren’t totally available. Motorcycles weave around the cars as well, but they did not have as much confidence as I did in my ability to shoot small gaps. I often found myself flying at 40 miles an hour in between two oncoming semis. I never felt unsafe, although I suppose for spectators what I was doing was incredibly reckless. I’ve been on the bike for so it is literally an extension of myself. Pieces of my bar tape are quite literally embedded in the calluses of my hands. I never felt unsafe and had the time of my life. It felt like I was playing Mario kart and my confidence reflected that. If I crash in this version of Mario kart I don’t think the little ghost is going be there to pick me up and put me back on the track though, so I should probably be a little bit more careful. These roads are simply too much fun though.

At the bottom of the descent the road leveled off into the great valley of Medellin. I rode for about 20 minutes before a large pack of cyclist finishing a group ride flew by me. With only a couple miles left in the ride they were attacking one another and sprinting up the hills. I couldn’t help myself but join the fun. They had blown by me at about twice my speed, but I sprinted after them. I had to give everything I could to stay in contact on even the smallest hills, but on the downhills and flat sections I was giving them hell. I managed to ride some of them off my wheel on the flats which was really fun. These guys are clearly incredible cyclists, but they were featherweights compared to me and my hefty bike bags. They eventually all passed me. I don’t quite have the freshness stay with them, and it was not in my best interest to be sprinting with one of the domestic elite teams of Medellin. The road was covered with cyclists even though it was a four-lane divided highway. Part of the reason I’m seeing so many cyclists is because there aren’t that many good roads to ride on so they are all very concentrated on the main highways. In the United States, I can’t imagine a group ride ever going on a highway like this, but in Colombia that’s just a nature of the riding.

As I came into Medellin, I saw a lot of skyscrapers and the development seem to go on forever. I hadn’t really looked at a map, but I figured I was in downtown when I stopped to get some money at the ATM. My card declined and I got a fraud notice. I had to spend about an hour on the phone with my bank before I was able to withdraw cash and keep on my way. I soon realized that what I thought had been downtown was just a suburb about 15 miles away from the actual city center. I knew Medellin was big, but I didn’t know it sprawled like this. In America we have a lot of urban sprawl but it’s suburbs that are spaced out. Medellin is incredibly densely populated for 15 or 20 miles on either side of the city center. The city is in this great valley with mountains rising up to 8 to 10,000 feet on either side, so all the development is stretched out in a line along this valley. Even though the city is only 3,000,000 strong, it felt much larger because I was in it for a long time. The road stays by the river at the bottom of the valley. It is one of the flattest roads I will have my entire way through Colombia, but it didn’t feel that flat. It was a constant 1% to 2% incline, which I could definitely feel. The road was utter chaos with so many motorcycles and constant starting and stopping of traffic. Lane splitting is a very accepted practice in Colombia and I quite enjoy taking part. I’m treated as a motorcycle when on the road and motorists are generally incredibly kind to me and used to cyclists on the road. My gringo self might be a surprise to most, but a man on a bike or a woman on a bike in Colombia is not as uncommon as it was in Central America, so people don’t gaggle as much as they did in other parts of my journey. Going through the actual center of Medellin was quite a spectacle. The high-rise residential buildings popped up like trees along the entire valley. There were thousands of them. The city is built on the side of the mountain, and one of the method of public transit is a gondola. That’s right, they have a gondola that goes from one side of the valley to the other. There was also a commuter train that ran the length of the bottom of the valley, but I imagine that for many this train is useless as much of the city sits high above the river. Getting around must be quite a task. It looks like an absolute maze. Medellin used to be one of the most dangerous cities in the world. Pablo Escobar and the gangs and cartels used to call the streets home. The cartel hoped to inspire fear among the populace and the police and commonly would implement random active violence, otherwise known as terrorism, against the people of Colombia. With all of the cartel activity comes increases in petty theft and crime. Colombia on the whole and particularly Medellin have cleaned up their act a lot. This is not the Columbia of 50 years ago. After traveling through Medellin it is very easy to see why it would be a desirable place to operate a cartel out of. Escobar and his goons used to seek refuge in the higher limits of the city. They would descend down the mountain and wreck havoc before fleeing back through the maze of streets up the hills to their refugees above. Like eagles swooping in for a kill then flying off with their prize. It wasn’t hard to envision motorcycle chases in the steep winding maze of streets up the side of Medellin. I don’t want to glorify cartel violence, but, it looks like a set from a James Bond movie and I was ready for a chase scene to erupt at any moment. I absolutely love the chaos. It was such a start contrast to the beautiful peace of rural Colombia. I was glad to get out of the city, but biking through it was an experience I’ll never forget. I would love to come back to Medellin and actually see the city and not just glance at it from the highway.

The Medellin Valley sits at about 5000 feet in elevation. As I worked my way south out of the valley I begin climbing up up up. I got back up to over 8000 feet before coming to my next pass. If I thought the last pass had been cool, this one absolutely blew my mind. 6000 feet below me I could see the town of La Pinada and the Magdalena river which I had been on earlier in the day. Way across the valley mountain spines zigzagged across the horizon in a simply endless chaos. The high-rises of Medellin seem to have emulated the chaos of the Andes around them. Mountain walls fell away at almost impossibly steep angles. Tiny little towns dotted the land all around. The road began a massive 6000 foot descent. The sun was due to set in about an hour and I knew it would take me the duration of the suns light to make my way down the descent. The views were so incredible. I was smiling and laughing out loud with absolute joy at the road I was riding. The road itself was one of the most fun roads I’ve ever ridden. It was the perfect grade with perfectly tight turns. I swooped and dove in and out of the contours of the mountain. On my bike, I can descend faster than any car or truck. I wove my way in and out of traffic, sprinting out of corners. It always feels faster than it actually is and it’s easy to feel like you’re a fighter jet. Like the scene out of Top Gun where they’re racing through the mountain valley. Descending roads like these is one of the most exhilarating things I’ve ever done in my life. It’s adrenaline an adrenaline rush. I don’t seek out risk, but I think it’s undeniable that something about being on the edge during these descents adds to my enjoyment of them. That’s something I’ve been trying to grapple with for a long time because I think it’s pretty dangerous to be a thrill seeker in search of danger. It’s fine to enjoy a good descent, but it’s a little bit different to be deriving pleasure from the simple fact that it is a risk. I’m not entirely sure where my mind falls on the spectrum. It’s something I need to think a little bit more about for sure.

After descending about 1000 vertical feet, I came to the town of Santa Barbara. Although not huge, it is significantly larger than the map had led me to believe. That is commonly the case here in Colombia. This country is a lot bigger than I think most people realize. It’s a lot bigger than I realized for sure. Often times when I’m looking at a map, these cities don’t look that big but when I actually get to the city, it proves to be huge. Santa Barbara probably looks bigger than it is too because every house is visible, perched up on the side of this mountain. The road had been winding in and out of the contours of the mountain face, but it now popped out on top of a ridge line hurtling down towards the valley below. I had panoramic views on either side. I didn’t get a good video or picture of the road in this moment because I was going a little bit too fast to be on my phone, but it was the most spectacular half mile of road I think I’ve ever seen. The town fell off on both sides of the mountain sitting at a little point on the ridge. It was one of the coolest towns I’ve ever seen before and I would love to come back. If you ever find yourself in Colombia, I would highly suggest paying a visit to Santa Barbara. As with every Colombian town the streets were alive and there seem to be a restaurant for every person in the town. Many of these restaurants had great vistas overlooking the valley below. I left Santa Barbara and the traffic came to a grinding halt. There were no cars coming up the mountain anymore, so I figured there must be some type of crash or impasse below me. For the next 3000 vertical feet I cautiously descended down the wrong lane of traffic. There were no cars coming up the mountain, but localized motorcycle traffic was moving up and down the left lane, so I had to be incredibly careful. I was pretty disappointed that there was a lot of traffic. Not only did it take a lot of the fun away from the descent, but I’d been climbing a lot all day and this 6000 foot descent was a great reward that also would’ve gone a long way to bump up my average speed. Under normal circumstances with no traffic I probably could’ve averaged about 35 miles an hour down the entire 6000 foot descent. With all the traffic it was hard to go much more than 20 miles an hour. Sure enough, halfway down I came across a semi that had jackknifed across the road. Wreckers had just cleared it and cars begin moving through on either side. Things were even more dangerous for me now. Traffic had been stopped for probably about three hours so now there was a massive buildup of semi trucks in both directions. At the hairpin corners semis can’t pass each other in opposite directions because their turn radius is simply too large, so the downhill semi will commonly stop above the corner to let the uphill semi through. This creates an awful accordion effect and parking lot traffic on the mountain. I continued to weave in and out of traffic and past trucks and cars, but the sun begin to get low in the sky, and some of my maneuvers were becoming risky. I begin to get jaded of the traffic and even though this should’ve been the time of my life, I was happy when it was over. It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever done, but I can’t imagine what it would be like with no traffic. It would be like a roller coaster for an hour straight.

When I got to the bottom of the valley, I crossed the river that I had seen so many thousands of feet above and was happy to find that the road stayed along the river for the next 50 miles. It was dark out and although I wanted to stop for some food in the town, it was so incredibly chaotic and I was worried I might get robbed in the dark and not even realize it. I went up to a couple different people cooking food, but everything was cooked to order and they said it would take 5 to 10 minutes. I didn’t want to linger for that long so I just kept riding. I would content myself with the can of cold beans I had in my bag for dinner. The city was very small, but it was one of the most lively places I’ve ever been. Music blared from every single store and traffic once again grinded to a halt as pedestrians and motorcycles swam through the city like a swarm of ants. I had seen a hotel about 15 km up the road so I decided to aim for that for the night. When I got to the hotel I was disappointed to find that a recent highway expansion had leveled the hotel and the small bars all around it. I was on an incredibly remote section of road now and the next hotel was a good three hours ride away. I wasn’t super stoked on the idea of camping. The highway I am on has historically been a little dangerous at night. I felt really safe and I was in a very rural area, but I was still more on edge than I ever would be camping in the United States. It was also incredibly difficult to find a spot to camp. I dropped all the way down to 2,500 feet and was back in the thick of the jungle. The road had been carved into the mountain side right next to the river and there really weren’t any flat spots to put down my bivy. In addition, for the last two hours I had been riding towards a wall of thunderstorms that were fast approaching me. I found a gravel pull over and was able to find a relatively flat spot in the grass about 100 feet off the road. In the United States I wouldn’t have thought twice about camping here, but I was a little anxious about it and Colombia. To make matters worse, I realize my ground pad has a small hole in it somewhere. It’ll be really easy to patch, I just need to find the hole. Last time I camped in the Mexican desert there had been cacti everywhere and I joked with myself that I was going to give my ground pad a leak with all the cacti. Turns out that I actually did. My anxiety over being discovered and having my stuff stolen manifested in a nightmare I had as soon as I fell asleep. I woke up about 10 minutes after initially falling asleep, convinced that somebody was right outside my bivy because I had just dreamed that was the case. I took a minute to calm myself down and think through my safety. I was well hidden in the dark on the side of the road that wasn’t that busy. No one lived within miles of me, so there wouldn’t be anyone out and about on foot. The chances of someone stumbling across me were incredibly low. On top of that, every single person I’ve interacted with in Colombia has been nothing but nice to me. I’m pretty confident that even if 50 people were to stumble across me not one of them would rob me. My odds of being discovered and robbed were super slim. I reasoned this out with myself and fell back asleep without another worry.