An Udderly Fantastic Day

Taraza – Alto de Ventanas, Colombia

All the riding we’ve done in Colombia before today? I mean it was okay – but it is clear now that Colombia is all about the mountains. 

Much cooler. Amazing views and scenery. Nice people. Did I mention it’s cooler? Like actually humane weather – without the insane humidity . . . What’s not to like?

Okay, it’s true – there was some climbing involved in the mountains. Today we climbed some 7,200+ feet. Pretty sure that was the biggest day we have had on the trip so far. We climbed right from the start, and basically never stopped climbing the whole day. 

But boy was it worth it. 

We started the day biking along the Rio Cauca. About 25 miles of very gentle ascent. Uneventful, but pretty. It’s a big river – must be one of the major arteries of Colombia. Empties into the Caribbean north of Cartagena in Barranquilla. It’s not the most attractive river – being mostly brown – but it seems to provide a lot of fish. 

Then a quick second breakfast/early lunch – and we headed across the river and up, up and away. Well, not in our beautiful balloon – but you get the idea.

After a mile or two of this I noticed that Diana was standing up a lot as she pedaled her way up. And, biking behind her I realized that she was not shifting into her big chain ring. Because she’s running a one-by (meaning only one chain ring in front), the big chain ring in back is a lot bigger than her others – and much easier pedaling. When Diana confirmed that she couldn’t get into that gear we stopped pretty much immediately. 

Don’t need Dr. Liu blowing out her knees pushing big gears on our way up into the Andes with fully loaded bikes . . .

Took us a minute, but we finally got Little Ann to shift properly. Started out with a barrel adjustment. When that didn’t work we pulled more cable through to increase the tension. Had to do it a few times, but eventually she’s shifting into the big ring again . . . All good.

Now, there’s a lot of time just grinding up, up, up. But we’re going to skip through all that . . .

As we head up we keep passing stuff – almost looked like almonds – drying along the road. Not clear what it is, but we eventually see a guy out tending to his drying and we stop to ask what it is. Just then a young man appears – and he knows English. Juan Diego. Super nice. He tells us that what we’re seeing is cacao, which they use to make chocolate. (We should know this after our chocolate tour way back in Nicaragua . . .)

We end up seeing Juan Diego a little later in the day as well. Turns out that motorcycles are faster than bikes – especially when we’re climbing this much . . . Juan Diego tells me that there are about 3,000 people who live in his town – Validia. He says one of the primary income sources in the area is cows. As we’ll see later, I think there is a lot of dairy around here . . .

Next stop . . . Gustavo. 

As we are making our way up the mountain I stop to wait for Diana. I’m about to put my bike down by a “You’re Going Uphill” sign – because it seems kind of ridiculous to me to have a sign like this after we’ve been going up for the last 15 miles. 

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed. Good thing that sign was there. Otherwise I would have forgotten to shift down . . .”

Anyway, Gustavo, an older guy across the street, tells me that I should put the bike down further up the road – where there’s a wall I can lean the bike against. After snapping a quick picture I oblige. After all, what do I really care where I park? 

I go back to chat with Gustavo. There’s a sign on his house (?) that says “Se Vende Impermeables” – meaning that he’s selling “impermeables” – whatever they are. In my mix of Spanish, pantomime, and whatever else I can come up with . . . I ask what the word means.

Gustavo is good at this game as well. He pantomimes rain and I glean that the word “impermeables” refers to rain gear for motorcyclists. Which is something I’ve been wondering about. It seems like just about everyone here has a motorcycle of some kind. All good right now – but this is the rainiest country in the world. Someone has to help the motorcycles stay on the road when its wet – and I guess that’s Gustavo. 

Now we’re back on the bikes. More incredible scenery. But there are also houses all along the route – probably because there seems to be exactly one road through the mountains. As we go along I notice a number of horses loaded with big metal jugs. They look like the jugs my grandparents used to use to get spring water. Super heavy. Not clear what is in these jugs now. 

Eventually I stop again. This time there’s a guy milking a cow. Like with his hands. No automatic milking machine here. I observe, and we chat, and here’s the story . . .

There are about half-a-dozen cows standing around – basically waiting their turn to be milked – presumably because they’re uncomfortable with all that milk in their udders – and also because Mr. Milkman Guy (he told me his name but I can’t remember now) gives them some yummy grain while they’re being milked. 

When he finishes with one cow the next cow in line approaches. He ties her rear legs – presumably so she doensn’t kick him while he’s milking – and, once they’re tied, wipes her udder off with some newspaper. Then he puts his little stool down like he walked straight out of Hansel and Gretel or something, he plants a bucket under her udder, and starts pulling on her teats – spraying milk into the bucket.

He said each cow gives about five liters of milk twice per day – or about ten liters total. After each cow is milked he dumps the bucket into a nearby metal jug – and now we know what the horses were carrying . . .

Eventually he offers me some milk. I run back to my bike, grab my water bottle, down what little agua is left, and he fills it with leche – enterra (whole milk). 

It’s about now that Diana bikes up. She has no interest in the milk.

When Diana was young her brother Phillip and her used to get carted along when her parents went to Taiwan. As I understand it they would sit for hours in their grandfather’s hot apartment entertaining themselves any way they could. 

One day they must have been invited along to a farm or something because, remember, Diana’s Dad – the original Dr. Liu – was a veterinary pathologist and did some work with the Pig Institute in Taiwan. The farmer gave Diana and Phillip some fresh milk – warm and all. Diana talks about a layer of fat on top (never a big positive in her book) and how gross they thought it was. I guess there were a bunch of flies around and Diana and Phillip intentionally corralled the files into the milk so they wouldn’t have to drink it. 

The point is that there was no way that Diana was going to drink this milk. Fresh milk is on her permanently bad list . . .

But I drank it. Never had “raw” milk before. Warm and a little fatty. Delicious. 

Think I might try out for one of those milk mustache ads that they make even . . .

Newly refreshed with dairy energy we keep heading up. It’s getting cooler and cooler as we go, with the humidity a long way in the rear view mirror. But now we’re in a serious layer of fog. It’s like we’re in Duluth – with the warm summer air hitting the cold of Lake Superior. But this was CRAZY fog. I won’t dwell on the fog – I’ll let the pictures tell the story . . .

But eventually we bike out of the fog – we’re literally looking down on it . . .

Okay – last thing . . .

There is one hotel that Diana has identified and we’re getting close to it now . . .

There isn’t a lot up here – but we eventually see some business type buildings. One of them says something about Restaurant and Habitations. It doesn’t look shiny or anything, but it’s a place to stay for the night – and what choice do we have? 

We get a room – for 30 mil pesos – equating to $7.50. A new record for us . . .

Boy, it is not fancy. Tiny. Broken windows. No top sheet. Bed is maybe some type of futon – hard to know what it is. Lumpy. Hard to imagine a good night’s sleep on this thing . . . Bathroom – basically filthy. Clearly hasn’t been cleaned – in a long time. There is a shower – but there is no separation from the rest of the bathroom so the water splashes all over the toilet and floor. Smells kind of like sewage. Not pretty. 

But we take showers. What else can we do? 

Later we’re conferring and Diana figures out that the hotel she was actually looking for is a different place. It’s about a mile down the road. It’s getting dark now – but we figure it’s better to beat a retreat quickly rather than have a miserable night in a place that we are just not going to feel good about . . .

So we grab our stuff, jump on our bikes, and now we’re making our way in the dark. Not fun. But we make it and now we’re at least feeling okay about things because the new hotel is clean – kind of our bare minimum . . .

Looking forward to a good night’s sleep – because we have another big day of climbing tomorrow. If all goes well, we’ll be in Medellin by Wednesday . . .

How’s that for a day?