Tropical Surprises 

Rosas – El Remolino, Colombia

Alright, that was a long day. There will be no romantic mango stories today. 

We figured that today would be an easier descent day. We started in Rosas at 6,300’ or so, and finished at like 1,900’ – but, as usual, we didn’t account for just how much climbing we would end up doing. With all the up and down we ended up at more than 5,000’ . . . The upshot of our failure to account for all this ascending was that we ended up going over 75 miles today. 

Can you say tired, boys and girls?

But it was incredibly beautiful – so I am still in a good mood and, because of that, I’ll give you a little flavor of the day . . .

We started with a long and incredible descent from Rosas. We ended up stuck behind a big semi- and I recorded a few videos of Diana working up to passing the guy. 

(Sorry – I thought I had one of Diana actually passing the guy – but I guess not. I assure you that she eventually did though. Very impressive.)

At some point during the morning we stopped to admire some waterfalls that were right by the road, and that’s where we saw a one-legged guy I’ll call Hector. We never actually talked to Hector – but I can tell you a few things about him . . .

When I first saw Hector he was down in this pit thing by the waterfall thing. At this point I didn’t realize that Hector was missing a limb. He’s collecting some agua in a bucket that he had, and then he’s cupping some waterfall water in his hands and drinking. Nothing remarkable there – except that I was pretty attuned to the fact that he was drinking the water directly from the waterfalls – apparently not worried at all about drinking Eau Natural . . .

It wasn’t until Hector lifted himself up out of the pit that I saw the crutch sitting there. And even then it didn’t really compute for a second or two. He was just a guy hauling a heavy bucket full of water out of a slippery pit thing. 

But then I put two and two together. Somehow he did all this with just the one leg. A second later he’s up on his crutch and he’s hauling the bucket of water 100 yards up the road. 

“Hector doesn’t need no stinking second leg . . .” 

While he’s hauling I decide to bring my empty water bottle down into the pit. Now, don’t tell Diana this – Dr. Liu would be very upset that I thought about drinking unfiltered water out of the stream this way. But don’t throw a conniption . . . It’s true that I filled my bottle up – but I never drank it. Kind of like Bill – he never inhaled . . . I just figured that I might as well fill it up because if push came to shove I would rather have this unfiltered water that Hector drank than no water at all . . . 

But it never came to that . . .

Anyway, where were we? Oh, yes. Hector is ambling up the road and I’m contemplating going down into the waterfall pit thing. It was at this point that I really started to appreciate Hector’s bad-ass-ness. Because I have two legs – and I’m still standing there thinking about whether I should really do this. It was a good 5’ drop – and it was slippery as hell. I mean, I did manage to get down there – but my goodness – how the heck did he do that with one leg? And, by the way, I think he was wearing a sandal on the one foot that he did have . . .

After I filled my bottle and I’m crawling gingerly out of the pit Diana bikes up. I point out Hector to her. I wasn’t watching carefully – because I was more concerned with myself going in and out of the pit – but I think Hector was spreading some water on some little patches of road – or maybe on some patches of dirt that were in the road. (Don’t ask me why. I have no idea . . .) But now Hector is over by the side of the road, and he has balanced the stump of his missing leg on part of the crutch. He has a shovel in one hand and the bucket in the other. He’s somehow digging a hole – like a pretty big hole – and he’s throwing dirt into the bucket. 

I don’t know who Hector is, but he has some pretty amazing superpowers. 

And here’s the other thing. This whole spot is kind of in the middle of nowhere. How did Hector get there? Did he walk with his one leg and bucket and shovel? And how will he get home when he’s done doing whatever he’s doing? 

Latin America is full of mysteries. Like the unexplained road closure back in Mexico. There are just some things that us Gringos are not meant to understand . . .

Skipping ahead to our first real stop of the day. I see some mangos in the ditch at the side of the road and we pull over in order to pick some up. The great thing about mangos is that you peel all the skin off anyway. So it’s not like it really makes any difference if the skin is dirty. 

We peel a few and enjoy. Now it’s time for me to admit that I have not always loved mangos. Honestly, I’ve never really been a tropical fruit kind of guy. I know that is probably politically incorrect and all. But, in my defense, I’m not sure that buying a mango in Minnesota really counts anyway. I actually think they only sell them there because people like the concept of mangos. But the actual mangos? They come from half way around the globe . . . Not really the same thing as a mango that’s fresh from the mango tree . . . A point that I have come to realize in the last few days. I actually LOVE mangos – they just need to be fresh and juicy and sweet. Mmmm!

It doesn’t take long after the mangos when I call the next stop.

Side note . . . Have I mentioned that Diana doesn’t love to stop? She’s kind of more of a put-your-head-down-and-keep-going type of person. We dated in college and we would sometimes study together. Me? I would do some work for fifteen minutes or so – and then I needed a break. Diana? She would literally lock herself in a room at 9 p.m. and then not emerge again until noon the next day. 

Rockefeller Hall. I remember it well. I would study for an hour, go home, go to sleep, get up, make breakfast, read the paper, and then go back to Rockefeller around 10 the next morning – and she would still be studying. I guess there’s a reason that she’s the doctor and I’m the guy who can sometimes fix a flat . . .

But back to our regularly scheduled programming . . . I call a stop because I see some promising looking peanut things – and, as it turns out, eating fruit like mangos has the perverse effect of making me more hungry. (Another thing that Diana rolls her eyes at . . .) Anyway, it turns out that these peanut cluster things are super good. They’re Latin America’s answer to Salted Nut Rolls – my favorite workout snack . . . Haven’t seen one of them since probably Rochester, Minnesota. Sad.

So things are looking up!

Next we arrive at the town of El Bordo. Once again, Diana doesn’t really want to stop, but the main square is hopping. Now, Diana is great at researching all the local specialties, and she’s identified this drink – I can’t remember the name of – as one that we should try. When we see a stand that is serving it we buy one. (I think it cost $1 – so not a big investment . . .)

It’s really thick – like maybe what pumpkin “juice” would be like if you just blended up some pumpkin . . . It even tastes kind of pumpkin like. Not bad. I guess if you grew up with it you might develop a real taste for it. For us, I don’t think we need to try it again – but it was interesting . . .

Next stop – lunch. Next thing to try . . . Kumis. (I kept thinking that the signs were for KUMON – that get-your-kids-ahead service that they have in affluent American communities . . .). Turns out that Kumis is some kind of dairy thing that’s like a sweet yogurt. Definitely yummy! 

(And I see some more of the peanut cluster things and buy three more of them. Some things are worth the extra weight . . .)

A little more biking and we meet Martin (I think pronounced Mar-teen). Martin is from Mexico. He’s been biking various pieces of the transcontinental route for the past few years. First he biked California, starting from Tijuana. Then he flew home and worked for a while to save up some money. Then he did Mexico and Central America. Then he flew home to save up some money. And now he’s doing Colombia, Ecuador and Peru. (This was how my Mom did things before she met my Dad: work – go to Europe – work – go to Europe . . .)

As I understand it Martin works as a “hot shot” firefighter when he’s back in Mexico. Like the people who go in to put out fires like the ones in Los Angeles. 

I guess another bad ass guy . . . Super nice. Hoping we see more of Martin in the days and weeks ahead . . .

We biked together a bit and then Martin peeled off to camp – while we forged ahead in order to make the next hotel.

At this point the road is pretty quiet. There are no towns. And we’re getting tired and hot – because, well, it’s a lot hotter because we’re not at high elevations anymore . . .

But it’s still beautiful – with majestic mountains flanking us on the right. The Andes are pretty special for sure . . .

We eventually make it to El Remolino – but only after three different hotels that our mapping programs had identified turned out to be phantoms . . . existing only in the meta universes of google and such. 

And now I’m sitting under a mango tree in the hotel courtyard listening to the ever present beat of Latin music – and hoping that a ripe mango doesn’t fall and hit me in the head – like Manuel yesterday . . .

Tomorrow? Well, it’s only 50 miles to Pasco – the next big town. But I guess getting there is going to require about 10,000 feet of climbing (we’re at 1,900’ now and it’s at 9,000 or so – and with the ups and downs we figure about 10,000’ . . .)

Even Dr. Evil would blush at that number: “And I demand one thousand feet of climbing!”

Send us good vibes. We’ll need them . . .

Oh, and one more thing. I read that one of Pasco’s specialties is guinea pig. Diana is already disgusted with me because I admitted that I’m not super keen on eating this delicacy. I mean, guinea pigs are rodents, aren’t they? (Can someone be sympathetic to me, please . . .)