Colombia Motorcycle Adventure Log: Day 04

Today was brutal. We started out near sea level, gliding through the town of Mariquita and stopping at a fruit stand for some local snacks. Then the rains came. No problem, we were prepared for it. I had scotch-guarded Hailey's riding gear and bought her a simple poncho. I brought BMW's new prototype EnduroGuard adventure suit, which they claimed was waterproof. We bundled up and headed toward the Letras Mountain pass.

Right away, challenges presented themselves. The Colombians have a thing about excessively painting the roads. If there is a crosswalk, they will slather 15 additional lines leading up to it in order to warn drivers of pedestrians. A wise precaution, except that they do not mix any elements of "grip" or anti-slip material into the paint. Consequently they are slippery when dry, and Teflon when wet. Add to this the speedbumps--I swear, these people are obsessed with the things, as they are everywhere--which are completely painted over. And often they are in the middle of a turn, so now you have slippery launch pads to contend with. With drivers being aggressive rain or shine, this becomes a dangerous combination of difficulties.

But there were more problems. Yesterday I hit an obstacle at speed. We were fine, but the impact was severe enough to take out my front brakes, ABS and Traction Control. We bled the brakes and got them working again, but the electronics were shot. This was not a huge problem, as I have plenty of experience riding without e-gadgets keeping me safe. But the mix of rain, cold and slippery surfaces were a growing concern. Worst of all, my stress level was exceedingly high given the precious cargo riding on my passenger seat.

Hailey had no concerns. As we picked our way carefully up the mountain, she sang into our Sena Comm system, working out the lyrics to "Coconut Friends"; a song she made up about a small coconut she found a few days earlier. When we hit 10,000 feet, the rain clouds enveloped us, blinding me to all but the closest objects. Our guide Micho--visible only to us by his hazard flashers--called out oncoming traffic and obstacles through the comm. He let out a yelp when his tires hit an oil slick, caused by a discarded container smashed in the middle of the road. I watched him drift several times before recovering.

At this point, my nerves were at fever pitch. We came upon a wreck, two cars attempting unsuccessfully to navigate a turn, ending in a broadside. Another appeared, a dump truck that had completely lost its front wheels, axle and all. They lay in front of the rig, positioned as if removed for general maintenance. The truck rested on the frame, its fiberglass fenders crushed under the stress. Then came a vehicle freshly spun out on the roadside, Coolant still spewing from the radiator. In each instance we slowly maneuvered into the oncoming traffic lane, easing carefully around the wrecks, taking great care as we drifted over the painted double-yellow line and back again. Soon we reached the summit at just over 12,000 feet, and began our descent.

Still in the clouds, visibility remained a luxury. "Wow this is sure thick," Hailey chimed in between limericks. "How do you even see in this stuff??" "Oh it’s no problem Hailey, you just take it slow and stay alert. Kinda fun actually." It wasn't fun. But she didn't need to know that. We dropped below the cloud line and found a respite of clarity. Hailey grabbed for the GoPro and filmed, capturing the spectacular views as Micho and I continued navigating the mountain. Soon we were back in the rain, and I was glad for it. "I'll take rain over fog any day," I thought aloud.

We finished the day with some old fashioned urban traffic. I was elated; the roads were dry, the sun was out, and I always enjoyed threading around cars. On the outskirts of town we found our hotel, unpacked, and in minutes I was collapsed into exhausted slumber. I woke an hour later, and we left long enough to eat a great local treat; Fresh Trout, prepared in all manner of ways (mine was slathered in cheese, mushrooms and garlic. Fantastic.)

Hailey had spent the trip counting stray dogs as we passed them. They're everywhere in South America, Colombia being no exception. We broke the rules by feeding the 200th dog she'd counted. It instantly befriended us, sleeping at Hailey's feet by the dinner table and warding off other strays. He followed us through town for a spell, then left to find a food source elsewhere. But not Before Hailey named him "Buddy" and mused about taking him home with us.

We returned to the hotel, where Micho briefed us on the next day of riding. "It will be a short day, we can spend the morning shopping in town and leave at noon. I have a BIG surprise for you tomorrow, Hailey, I hope you like it!” I have no idea what he's planning, but I'm sure it will be good. But for now, time to sleeeeep.