The Impermeables

El Remolino – Pasto – Pedregal, Colombia

You know Dasher, and Dancer, and Donner, and Blitzen . . . But do you know the most famous . . .

Okay – I just included that to get you in the mood.

You know Spidey, and Super, and Wonder, and Batman . . . But do you know the most famous superheroes of all . . .?

The Impermeables!

No? 

Really?

You totally should. 

They are the most entertaining. And definitely the coolest. Probably the coldest too – but that’s another story.

Well, it finally happened. It really rained on us. 

Which prompted us to break out all our superpowers. Now, like any superhero, we don’t go around flaunting our powers – so you might not have known . . .

Clark Kent? He seems like a normal guy until he ducks into the phone booth. Which begs the question – is Superman grounded now? I mean, without any phone booths around anymore maybe he is permanently stuck as Clark Kent. Maybe that’s why the world is such a mess these days. Superman can’t fly around the Earth backwards to turn back time to undo all the bad stuff like he used to – and so the whole planet is going down the tubes – all because the cell phone killed the phone booth . . .

Or Batman? Bruce Wayne doesn’t tell people about his cape or the batmobile. Same goes for Spider-Man. He’s just some young guy in love.

Us? Most people think we are just ordinary bike tourists.

Little do they know.

Put on our uniforms – and we are completely transformed. As the name would imply – nothing can penetrate The Impermeables. 

Especially rain. Definitely not rain. 

Faster than a speeding donkey. 

Stronger than a little chihuahua.

Can climb medium sized mountains in a single day . . .

Which brings us to an actual, meaningful report on the last few days.

Except one last thing on the superhero theme. 

First off, the impermeable suits that Marta sold us back by Medellin for $2 each are actually quite handy. They even included little handlebar shaped bags that are like Latin American pogies. So that was good. 

But you know how all superheroes have their kryptonite? Well, it turns out that The Impermeables are great at keeping moisture out – but they are also very good at keeping moisture in. And, unfortunately, it started raining while we were on our way up the 3,000 foot climb today. While we are in good shape, we still sweat (profusely, in my case) while climbing – especially when I am wearing a plastic suit that keeps all the heat in. The only antidote? Channel our inner-sloths. Easier said than done while climbing a mountain on a bike . . .

By the time we reached the top I think I was more wet inside the suit than outside – though, to be fair to the rain suits, pretty sure all the rain had been blocked out. No, we are talking 100% sweat moisture – like a liter of it. Nice.

But at least the suits were a wind block of sorts on the way down the mountain. 5,000 feet of descent over 15 miles. Not sure we pedaled once. Kind of cold by the time we reached the bottom . . .

And even though we were wet inside and out, no one was going to mess with us – because we are The Impermeables!

Alright, enough on the rain suits. You want to know how yesterday – our 10,000’+ climbing day – went. 

Fair enough.

Well, for those with a short attention span, we’ll start with the short version. We went up about 3,000’, then we went down about 3,000’, then we went up about 8,000’, and then we went down about 600’. There was some pain and anguish thrown in – but you have to read the longer version for that . . .

The longer version . . .

Well, we started in El Remolino. Not a particularly nice town. Nothing in Colombia seems particularly nice when it’s below 2,000’. . . Remolino is dusty, it’s dry, there’s one main drag through town that is paved, and everything else seems to be dirt roads. And these low-down towns always seem louder. More music. More horns. More noisy trucks. Just kind of a discordant mess . . . 

And if we stick around past 8 a.m. it’s hot.

So we’re happy to get out of dodge.

We leave about 7:45 and our first 3,000’ ascent is not unpleasant. Not super steep. And it’s in the morning so it’s not too hot. 

But, of course, after all that work what do we do? We go right back down. And down, and down, and down some more . . . Sadly, we’re basically right back to the elevation we started at . . . 

We’re kind of in the middle of nowhere now – and after several attempts to find lunch, we finally find a place. It’s basically the front of someone’s place of residence. I hesitate to say it’s a house – because our American version of a house is so different from so many of the places that you encounter in Latin America. (I might cover more on this topic another time – but too much to cover on this ride to get into it now . . .)

The woman at this residence – as far as we can tell based on the big variety of stuff happening, she’s a mom, a businessperson, the head of the house, and a cook – makes us an excellent meal. There are, as usual, no choices. Some kind of chicken rice soup – which was super yummy – and then a plate of rice, plantains (love plantains – kind of like mangoes, I never knew I loved plantains), and a piece of carne (beef). As usual, the beef is super tough – but the flavor is okay – and with another 8,000’ of climbing this is not the time be picky. 

The highlight, though? Mora jugo. She just kind of brings it out. It tastes like my childhood. So good. My Grandma Frances was super into health food type things. She was always making salads out of ingredients she found around on her nature walks. And she would give me berry juice for lunch. Mora jugo tasted just like her juices. Maybe that’s what propelled me through the rest of the day . . .

Let’s skip forward. After biking through a little bit more desolate area – pretty, but with no trees and no towns or anything – we finally arrive in Chachuga. Chachuga is at about 5,500’ and, because it’s high enough I guess – it’s a pretty nice town. 

We stop at a little tienda and have some mediocre ice cream things. We’re eating them at a little table outside the store and I see Keelin K’s comment on the eating of guinea pigs. I’m relaying to Diana that the word Cuy is pronounced coo-ee when Carlos, the other guy sharing the table with us, perks up. 

“Cuy es bueno,” he says. 

Soon we are having a whole conversation with Carlos. He lives in Pasto – where we’re going – and he’s in the shoe sales business. He has two boys and he’s in Chachuga because he has a cabana there. He’s very impressed with our ride. 

Diana asks Carlos whether it’s hilly on the way to Pasto. 

We have to pause here a moment. There is a lot of aspirational (wishful) thinking going on at this point. After all, we have researched this route pretty extensively. We know that we’re at like 5,500’ and that Pasto is at like 9,600’. We know if’s about 15 miles to Pasto. So it’s not too hard to figure out that it’s going to be a pretty massive climb the rest of the way . . .

But Carlos tells us that it’s up a little bit, and then it levels off and it’s kind of rolling the rest of the way to Pasto. He seems so certain, and he is a local, so despite what we know about the relative elevations of these two towns we kind of go with it . . .

Upshot . . . Rather than stop in Chachuga – which, in retrospect, we totally should have – we push on. (Fortunately for me I hedged my bets and grabbed some quick food – fry bread and a fried corn ball thing, both Colombian specialties – on the way out of town. Diana wasn’t interested in the fried food . . .)

And the road goes up. And up. And up some more. And not just to 9,600’. No. We need to go up to 10,000’+ before we can descend back into Pasto. 

Now, as we all know, under normal circumstances Diana can outlast anyone with her indomitable spirit. But, as it turns out, there is a physical body attached to all that stored up willpower. And that actual physical body is just flesh and blood, like everyone else. 

Years ago, Diana used to run a lot. Like a really lot. But eventually her knees and her hips betrayed her and she had to give it up. That’s when she started biking. But even in biking there are limits – and occasionally too much climbing will flair up her knees. 

Me? I’ve got the shoulder thing. And in the early days of this trip when we were still in the States my back was giving me some issues. But I’ve always been good at climbing. Especially really long days of climbing. Kind of my thing. Like a pack mule maybe . . .

So right from the start of the day I was asking Diana if she wanted me to take her pack. 

“No, I’m feeling great . . .”

”But I don’t want your knees to blow up.”

”They’re great . . .”

Fast forward again. We’re up around 9,500’ now. No sign of Carlos’ rolling hills. In fact, it’s just getting more steep. 

And the time. Did I mention the time? After the first climb, and lunch, and stopping for pictures in a bazillion places because it’s so breathtaking everywhere, and ice cream, and more pictures and climbing – it’s now about 5:30. 

Sunset is 6:15, and it’s fully dark by 6:30. So, time is wasting . . .

I’m waiting for Diana at the top of one of the increasingly steeper grades. She finally rolls up – but, really, she’s barely rolling. 

“This is horrible! I don’t know if I can make it. My knees are killing me!”

Not good.

Diana starts talking about the whole trip. She’s in utter despair. ”I can’t do these mountains anymore . . .”

What’s really bad about this situation is that I have to be the strong one. Hmm.

As best as I can figure we have one more “hill” to climb and then it’s all downhill into Pasto. I take Diana’s pack and just try to keep her moving. Any more delays and it will be dark. And, by the way, even at the equator it’s not warm at 10,000’. So we’re tired, we’re sweaty-wet, there’s no oxygen, and darkness is looming . . .

Fortunately, Diana is Diana and she guts it out. Twenty minutes later we are at the top. It’s now 6 p.m., and I’m hoping we really do have 5-mile hill this time. We put some warm clothes on, turn on our flashing lights, and start the descent. (Sorry – no pictures – bigger fish to fry at this point . . .)

Super nice descent. Super striking city nestled in the mountains. 

We make it to the hotel at about 6:20. Light to spare . . .

All good. 

But we did learn a few things yesterday . . .

We really should never attempt that much climbing in one day again. Even if it is only a 50 mile day. Well, maybe especially if it is only a 50 mile day . . . Because then all the climbing is packed in too tight . . . We’re just too old for that . . .

Second, I’m not sure you can trust Colombians on terrain type questions. (We met a super nice guy today – Jorge – who, like Carlos yesterday, also led us astray on this topic – telling us it was 3 kilometers to the top of the climb when it was actually 8. Really, Jorge? You’re a biker and you live here . . .)

And, most important, we have realized that we need to give up on our Ushuaia ideas. To get there before South American winter could be done, I guess. But it would mean no mountain riding, and lots of long, pressured rides, with no stopping to smell the roses along the way. We’ll still go to Argentina we think – but Ushuaia, probably not going to happen . . . at least not on this trip.

Our new plan? Shorter days. Especially when we’re in the mountains. Probably took us longer than it should have to come to this realization – but put the two of us together and we’re maybe a little bit too goal oriented . . . 

One other thing I want to mention. Pasto. Wow – that was a surprise. What a great little city. Super active. People biking and running everywhere. Vibrant and nice and clean. Striking mountains all around – including a big active volcano. And, we didn’t see it because it’s too far away, but there’s a big mountain lake with rainbow trout nearby. Really great place.

And we started on our new plan today. 25 mile day today. Still had a 3,000’ climb in the rain – but with the impermeables even that was fun. (And Diana said her knees felt fine – so that’s good . . .)

Tomorrow: basically a 27-mile ascent to Ipiales – a town on the border with Ecuador. While there we’re planning to visit Satuario de Las Lajas. (Thanks to John M in Tanzania for this bit of advice). Kind of confusing but apparently in the 17th century some people saw an apparition of the Virgin Mary there and maybe you can see the apparition on this stone wall. And now they built this amazing church structure around it and people go on pilgrimages to see it.