Columbia II

The next day we stopped by the Suzuki shop that Jan has been working at for a week and some to say goodbye. While there this guy wanted to fix my mirror, he doesn ‘t even work there, and then he wanted to give me something so he gave me a screw driver out of his backpack. Mario and the gang loved Jan and they also expressed a kindness to me like I had been there for a while too. “We are your family, anytime you need anything you just have to call or email”, said Mario. We took some pictures of everyone but they are on Jan’s camera so maybe later I can include.

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And on the road outside of Medellin heading south ….

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We stopped here for a moment and if you can see the military dude to the right of the sign, well, I pulled up to him while Jan was fiddling with something and well I showed him the bullet from the Militaire de Columbia and he took out a bullet of his own and handed it to me … ‘Que?’ ‘Rigalo’ he said. So now I have another to put on the bike. Calibre 556.

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The vultures were all over this road kill ….

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This guy who had Jesus on his forehead was walking from somewhere to Medellin. It seems to me I read this before in possibly Sgt. Marty’s blog, I’m not sure though.

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And here comes Jan to tell me the news of the guy aformentioned.

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Breaking rule #1 again ….

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And about three hours of riding in the dark, we arrived in Selente. We didn’t see anything as it was pitch black and I had to lead as Jan’s old headlamp is as he says a candle in the wind. However after checking into the planned hostal, The Coffee Plantation, we went up to the main square to get a bite to eat just before closing.

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And after eating, one of Jan’s famous cat naps ….

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In the morning we discovered where we were and what it looked like.

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Then through a city I can’t recall at the moment …

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And another conversation while riding about Jan’s bike …

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Into the plains/praries which I hadn’t seen for a very long time.

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Often I ride ahead of Jan and stop when there is a major artery to make a choice at or to have a smoke. However this time Jan never showed up. I waited and waited and then let the juice guy at the traffic light know that I was going back to look for him. He said he would keep his eyes open for the classica Harley. I returned and when the juice guy saw me he got really excited, and then shook his head ‘no’. So I went up ahead to the next small city, Palmiera, and at a major traffic circle I saw Jan surrounded by moto’s and their riders.

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So we had an hour or so of light left so we decided to push on, but suddenly Jan pulled over so I went back to see he had picked up a screw in the front tire.

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Jan took off the tire and then this guy who was at the time with his wife and new born on his bike, well they stopped to check things out, and then the dude lead me to a Vulcanarizado. I don’t have any pictures of that process but I can assure you it was done as simply as can be expected without all the precautions or acoutrements that North American riders practice or preach. No offense intended, just an observation. Luckily I had some patches with me as he was all out. Then we returned with the tire, the guy on the right lead me and his wife and baby are in the b.g., as well as the Policia check stop for bad things like weapons etc. . I had a good chat with one of them.

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Then we went back so Jan could thank the Vulcanarizado himself. By the way it cost $2.00 to fix the tube.

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Then we broke rule #1 again and headed back for Palmiera and it took us a long time to find a hotel. The first hotel we found wouldn’t accept the bikes inside the lobby where there was a ton of room. Well, he was afraid he would get into trouble. This was the first time we were denied. However we did find another and enjoyed the company of the staff and they us. Below I took a picture of an old beater bike and wagon.

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Crazy dreams, so I woke up early and sat here to smoke and write down my dreams.

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These guys went out and bought ‘Columbia’ momentos for us the next morning. Really kind people here in Columbia I have to say, and probably again and again ….

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Out in front we gathered a small crowd who gave us directions out of the city. Again Jan’s bike wouldn’t start. He’s had his bike 10 years and it’s been acting funny lately. We were wondering if these vibes were good or not …. finally it started and we headed out.

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Then Jan pulled over to check his map, but when I pulled over my bike stalled and wouldn’t start. We tried again but nothing. Electrical was good so we deduced that it was bad gas and that I had some crap stuck in their somewhere. So while we were waiting for the flooded bike to dry up this guy pulled up on a bicycle and said maybe we should smoke one so we could relax. He wanted a paper but I didn’t have one so he wished us well and said we would see each other again for it is a small world, then he rode off.

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I got her started and kept the revs up, jumped on the bike and opened her up on the highway. I rode the engine hard, opening the throttle fully and ripped down the road with cows along the side and all toping 140km, then cough cough, the crap should be in the engine now. Ooops, Policia and they pulled me over. I said I had a problem with the bike and couldn’t turn it off and he understood. He just wanted to see my insurance for Columbia and off I went again to burn the crap out of the gas. In the next town, Miranda, we bought a gas filter which I had been putting off for many countries, and in the centro park we involuntarily gathered a large crowd.

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After installing the filter, gas kept shooting out the top of the hose or somewhere. At first I thought the filter was too small so one of the kids rode off on his bicycle for another one but larger. That didn’t work either, and nor did another filter, another hose, another clamp etc. There was a guy in a wheel chair, Lucio, who was calm and collected and was sort of playing the capitano of the event. We both deduced that it was not the filter’s problem and more like the petcock, which for those of you without moto’s, it’s the control lever for gas on/off and reserve. So they pointed for me to go to the moto mechanic and we did. So I had to strip the bike to get the tank off then the mechanic dude, ‘Mucho Rotundo’, or ‘Moto Hero’, set to work to see if we could figure out why the gas was spraying out. The gaskets were worn so he cleaned them, then tried to wrap one of the them on the gas stem but still that didn’t work. I had read in I think Sgt. Marty’s blog that he had read in someone else’s blog that the petcock was prone to self destruction quickly and easily. Anyway he had brought a spare but of course I did not. I should have listened to your advice Marty.

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The guy in the blue is called the ‘Moto Hero’, literally translated to ‘Mighty Mouse’ or something like that. Anyway he said he could get a new petcock from Florida, a town we passed about twenty minutes before arriving here. So he hoped on his bike with his friend in the white, ‘Juan’ with my 20,000 pesos, $10bucks, and off they went. It was so hot and I was so tired and sweaty and absolutely knackered from answering questions from the excited people of Miranda, that while they were gone I kicked off my boots and sat in some shade drinking a beer and watching the local traffic drive by. Next door to the bike shop was a barber, and I told him my friend was also a barber so I took these pictures for you Rigs.

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Later they returned with the new petcock, installed it and tested, and it worked! Except that the Chinese I’m assuming manufacturing put the on/off/reserve spots backward or something so Mucho Rotunde cut off the end of the lever and shaved it down some so the lever could go in all three positions without hitting the tank. Currently I know that the position it is in is ON, and I’ll figure out the other two later. One dude who had just had his hair cut commented while Mucho was cutting the lever, ‘Columbian technology’. We all had a good laugh. Though it’s true, they can fix anything anywhere in Latin America. So once the petcock was in and working it was time for me to put the bike back together, in the rain as a storm rolled in. Not so bad except when I was finished or sometime during the process, the town of Miranda lost it’s power due to some lightening strikes. So we rode to the hotel that Jan had scouted earlier in the dark, parked the bikes and checked in for a well deserved shower, beer and food. By the by, the mechanic charged me $10bucks for the part, the work, and the travel time to get the part. Unbelievable. So while they were pouring the gas back in I stopped them early cause the gas was shit obviously, and maybe Jan’s bike isn’t starting to because of it. Anyway, he kept the gas too, even though in the beginning because one is always used to negotiating and being taken advantage of, well I tried to say I was going to keep the gas and he said no problem. Then I realized what an ass I was so I then said you can have the gas, probably about $15 bucks worth. In the hotel Jan and I paid $10/night each for our own rooms.

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The next day we decided we would stay to thank all of the people indirectly involved in the process of helping us. First was Lucio, so I found his house but he wasn’t home. Later on a kid on a bicycle road up and said Lucio was now home and he led me to his house. I was going to use his internet but it wasn’t working well with my computer so he led me to another shop. He said he would return and then take me and Jan for dinner. He did, and he brought Jan with him.

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And this great pot of food was cooking when we walked in ….

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As soon as we sat down, Ruby the one carrying the pot brought out the Aguadiente and the evening carried on ….. we both bought a crate of beer and another bottle of Aguadiente and well, we had a great evening with tons of laughs, lot’s of love and later some Salsa. Right now the internet place I’m in is closing so I’ll have to finish this story later but at least you can see the pictures.

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To be honest it was difficult to determine the order of people and who was with who and who wasn’t with who and in the end Jan and I knew we liked these people so it didn’t matter. All I know is we are a genuine group of misfits; a Dutch economist on a ’43 Harley, a Canadian movie guy who doesn’t speak Spanish, single mothers, pregnant mothers, policia, gays, children, wanted lovers etc. . Also, I found two more striking people who remind me of people in Canada. First Lucio reminds me of Nelson at the Brass Taps in Toronto and the guy on the right in the next picture reminds me of Randall formerly from Toronto who now lives in Vancouver, who incidentally helped us take care of Sadie during the Black Harbour years. Incredible, these mirror images of people from other parts of the world.

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Later we were all going to go to a disco and dance and such but I decided I wanted to take off and explore Miranda a little on my own. I confused everyone by saying I was a lion who had to go on his own for a while to catch scents and hunt other things. Luckily one of the guys Freddy, was an English professor and he did all the translations. He laughed when I gave him that one. I ended up having to re-enact the translation much to the dismay of the gang, and then I took off and found a great billard hall and gambling gin joint.

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Then after about two hours I was sitting out front watching the Saturday night crowd, the buses, the dogs, the moto’s when the gang of misfits found me. ‘Markus’! Come, let’s go’. So off we went to a happy bar, rainbow disco, gay club. The music was so friggin loud I ended up leaving abrubtly after trying to deal with it for as long as I could. Even with my ears plugged they thumped and my chest was being pounded by the bass.

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The next morning I had something to eat and took some pictures, did the internet and then on my way back to the hotel a hombre from the day we arrived called for me to come and have a beer with him so I did.

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Then about ten minutes later a guy who works for the hotel in some capacity which I don’t know pulled up on his moto saying something about ‘Amigo, chicas, food, cerbeza’ and he was motioning for me to get on his bike to take me there. Well, Jan wasn’t inside, but another guy who works for the hotel in some capacity I also don’t know, and well, let me say I learned a knew word in Spanish this afternoon, Zorra.

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Later we went back to Heverth’s casa and I met his wife and children and then figured out he was also a policeman. Then we all went for a ride around town, along with his sister who I think fancied me, well, Heverth made it quite clear. Anyway we toured around and went through every check stop without stopping once they saw who he was.

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And on the roof of his mother’s casa I found these two dogs giving me the gears.

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Heverth and his family are really kind, and laughed a lot at my inability to understand fully their language. His father was also Policia, and killed by the Narco some 17 years ago.

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Then back to see my misfit friends.

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Then to the main park for a dance festival. Africano, salsa, rumba etc. . It was a lot of fun and being the main celebrities of Miranda at such an event was quite something. I even got to play two boys at Dominos. The youngest of them I caught cheating, then his dad gave him shit.

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And here in this photo below, I met these indiginous guys who don’t even speak Spanish. The two indian guys; one in green and the other with a white hat on the left. Ruby and her daughter Valentina and Ruby’s mother and cousin are also in the photo.

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Then it was time for bed. Jan and I will leave for the south tomorrow. Today is the 6th of October.

October 11th, no internet for a while and many pictures to share and stories to tell. First off I’ll continue with leaving Miranda, well we didn’t, we stayed another day. ….

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And the next morning we made our rounds to say good’bye’s at various shops, the hospital and the moto shop. You can’t really tell in this picture but I’m towing Lucio around town. Jan has a better picture that I’ll post once I get the photo.

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And on the road, which is always a happy/sad relief.

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Stopping in Popayan to find a place to stay. Unfortunately there was a biology conference and tons of students were visiting Popayan so finding a hotel was a little tricky, except of course for the kind people that called around and even led us to the available hotel.

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Packing up the next morning ….

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This guy was great! I managed to hand off some money as I rode by ….

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It was getting dark so we decided to stop in a small town on the Panamerican highway, Chachagui, literally, right on the highway. It was perfect, $5 each for a double bed in a room. We parked the bikes in the restaurant which we ate in afterward, and then I sat in the room taking pictures and listening to music, when I could hear it.

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Here is the highway with no traffic; some people wandering now and again, some latin music from a nearby bar, a whistle or two …

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… and then the big trucks. They shook the hotel when they passed. The noise and mini-tremors were awesome, all night long.

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In the morning we ate beside the bikes and hit the road. The hotel is below, with the owner, son and friend.

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We stopped briefly here for a quick bite to eat and thanks to Speedy Dan’s reccomendation we rode into Las Lajas which is featured a few pictures down starting with an architectual masterpiece.

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This church built into the side of a gorge. The placards are placed by people in memory of others gone ….

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We were looking for a place to stay for the bikes and a senora suggested we go down to Casa Pastoral so we did and found that no one was inside. We called and called but no one answered, and it was open so we went inside and had a look around. There must have been at least fifty rooms, two chapels, a conference room, a large dining room, kitchen etc. but no one was there.

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So we went back outside and finally found someone to find someone and well we ended up having the place to ourselves for $6 a room, so we took our own rooms. The matress I think was made from something natural but not hay. The wool blankets, wooden desks and all were absolutely fantastic. I even wrote my name inside the desk drawer that I found covered in Spanish words and names from dates back to the 70′s. The photo below was my room.

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And the bikes of course are inside too.

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This is the view from the Casa at night. Las Lajas is so quiet and peaceful you can almost feel the buzz of the earth.

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A lot of police and military here which is sort of unusual considering the peacefullness.

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The next morning we rode down to the Equador border.

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