So much has happened over the past week or two I forgot to tell a short story that I figured was worth telling. So I'm gonna take you guys back in time, while I share this quickie.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW6QgAmy5bCnHxEIobM7Ikde0BScnUszka2t59Lxnk5FmIKehVCuxSXuBwR9CDb2uTyNaOG4thfmEAxSeLrGph2hTSkQhJB2PzCKCpUjVP4KBhH_y4crUelV7VCaJ8lHsQBSyVZwL87rE/s400/Fotor_153927992005997.jpg) |
"To care for and protect nature is the responsibility of all." |
So this was back in Riohacha alomg the coast. I had almost left town when a group of three guys stopped to talk to me as I was looking up directions. One of the three goons grabbed my Bear Grylls survival knife and played around with it for a minute. I thought he just wanted to take a look, but then he stuffed it in his satchel underneath his arm. I asked him politely to give it back. He refused. I explained to him that I needed it. He said that he needed it and refused to give it back. I decided to take the high road and ask him please. He still refused. He was not budging and was attempting to bulley me. I don't know exactly what else he was saying, he was mumbling some sort of Spanish gibberish. I decided to ask his friend to get it for me. His friend pretended like he didn't understand, he was worthless. I was at a crossroads. Do I let him go or start something? I shrugged and reached out my hand to shake the bandit's hand. Laughingly he extended his hand as well. When our hands connected I grasped his hand tightly and squeezed hard. With the other hand I quickly reached into his satchel and grabbed my knife back. I accidentally shanked him a bit as I pulled it away. I hopped on my bike and quickly rode off. He looked a bit astounded that a Gringo actually stood up to him. I know it was just a knife, and not worth getting stabbed over, but sometimes you have to stand up to the sharks. It felt great to put him in his place. I cruised out of town feeling proud of myself.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC4FXclWhdPjbtOrfLfdBn6wf_GmHp74rMfwH_QOvkMRFmvu1XkzY58ZYB94kt8TbxIOw3oX7jvrzME-E0OlyurlBlogtgEIu1HqFfh_S2H_XSJNHarlqdS25J72-1yU1iyIOGu79gqY8/s400/Fotor_153927748078518.jpg) |
Wouldn't want to crash into a capybara. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC8QUCj9az6gFVzpG6NENvV3yqkuSZ0H0EYUGhfS0Dis5JrUPayHRfvznShkZHmFmyqb7y4Hyy0cjEiZTn5lvALGD_JPrUQmTyBUUpJoDqGPZo6QdMqzeXdoez2xnk6K_bNBcxxx3lgMk/s400/Fotor_153927745982632.jpg) |
A few village houses. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidghLF698isTYvZodZKNI_GOMiwqV61LnNr1nkSGY_faXW0nCwkxKO0BOHfGmXrnaOYGTpK9RQSSxShWv_9fqPN7MM3oINSX4O7pSAoScVM-AutdDiDgr1F-eIx03P3XQd18HvV3ELdkA/s400/Fotor_153927743503198.jpg) |
Small alleyway in town. |
Okay so now back to the present day occurrences. I finally started utilizing a commodity that has been available to me since I arrived. During a long straightaway the other day I spotted what looked like a big green fruit hanging from this little tropical tree. I decided to take a closer look. It was a Pawpaw, and it was nice and ripe. I plucked it and readied the machete. With a single blow, I sliced it right down the middle. I felt like a fruit ninja. I scooped out the black seeds which I find to be disgusting and dug into to the large meaty fruit. It was actually quite filling. Can't get any fresher than that.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFihXLCEb3g8sKu1RvzqjLTkOgd8ZC837qSsAelVNKuwl1btnIsakG1brkiXVbeSMIm2e7iq2BJJMSzuxSaz8APFnCB_1QLhBLR5-07pnYvtYIVKttMaeUgHxS22Oo-GByyV0EA2oABo0/s400/Fotor_153927741903534.jpg) |
The lucky find! A pawpaw to start off the day. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsd3mk_uGP0WWtmfAVJHf-_bfWu4oF_6_5zaXcGECgPWSdv06ReMtflp5ToJ1Q-BCXycIZlVFpwPvrJ36tSLK-eYbZlf9cBMIOioTaFIUpg-9lmc875S6PlRWjDhp0qCUrQTpATztqSk/s400/Fotor_153927701298055.jpg) |
A mystery fruit that a happy Colombian gave to me. It tasted good, but had a strange taste. |
On my ride yesterday I found myself in the citrus heartland. Every 15 minutes or so I would com across a roadside citrus tree. They weren't farms either, just a random orange tree conveinintly placed alongside the road. I dined on clementines, oranges, limes, and a large mystery citrus. I'm thinking it was a type of orange but it was very large and the flavor didn't match a typical orange. In any case they gave me the extra boost I needed to keep pedaling on a hot day.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3YxzG2rtiE1zYt37cxKLFZgEpPdgVtdpUZe_YWi45uqv_zWU2-euSV6dNYPsgpaOK-CaLhRUnUdXoAt54Mo_PVBYOjI2EaPZzqhg758DKk34eMIqRSKfp_GeOlX0hK7Xan7oMKQYad70/s400/Fotor_153927704263054.jpg) |
Just like in Australia, oranges and clemintines here are not orange on the outside. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstF8PZAPaIf9cH7h4K9gsAiNpzgxQgls_vkfm2HVRO1XNv78c2JbI_KYkW6nfvffjDSxaaDFxKqBHCyiDnJHNaHADHKh-PyeIk-8lPnc7HDsgTViToSKF6DC9BNWWN8oRabHiu3_CoEc/s400/Fotor_15392770731468.jpg) |
This was the mystery citrus. Maybe an orange that wasn't fully ripened? |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzQuJN_jD4-sYIsFno-TgHY60trpOLpo4CswTM9DpeJBkS6c2PZRpmadm0g1VIWpzzssG5KW7E50N0eVauF-pwl7flOMrsDCiz0D0w1hjICAIVfHLdVAtcxq_32SXCTR7e77vOpmc2oo/s400/Fotor_153927709139970.jpg) |
This is Colombia's version of fast food. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyuplHkg8MreExReJXYrf59gdkNicXBc9kxEZKCaaBK6PJbNKP9bonT67KsLqCSGNjbvHKVnBmMKPqL6DZBoPVSzQhgq91qn6H9FHbWZMTeuoItIBUJVWhJLl9ETiOzIl4jR2yhajQZs/s400/Fotor_153927739076262.jpg) |
Momma piggy. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8jg90qZ96ByhgLWdYGIiqrv7oOkj_Xmw_eOLMJc8txZam64pHR_PWqVfRDgupfutlBoMJKOxINMUThZtMA18VS6ZQrFMBZAWsTGG_iG0xsoHIPkVX1qCteOl2xiW_DgroDmtfWlLzq84/s400/Fotor_153927737390276.jpg) |
Baby piggies, and daddy piggy. |
That brings me to my next topic. Either I have gotten soft over the past year, or the Andes are insane. I woke up yesterday and pedaled up to my first Andean pass before the sun had peaked over the hills. The downhill was great, but I found myself at the bottom slogging my way up a second pass. For anyone that doesn't know, a mountain "pass" is on the spine of the mountain. Once you reach the pass it's all downhill on both sides. By 8 am I had already created my second Andean pass. It was exhausting.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYxHta1bPajs6Zo_TJqVtvGlFDTjRwWLNCCFx5BuuQrVtVz_JByVo5NH4H_AUzDiCJXx_60SgWL3m8vDQJWEjlu_SVwFmu6aiSqvyx-zSFcXcHlwzf-BlOr7D47jXh9ltl5vvh37NgvE/s400/Fotor_153927730914698.jpg) |
Camping spot in the mountains. In an abandoned mining site. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJeDfs3G1sg73cX9yDg8cXkpFCHbNUe504EolCy6P_fgN0gvGKsDY9M_Y4D3kntMsZhJlWT8z7-GUlBJ1DS3CLVOry7S2hrySaN0VI009gFhUr5WKSscvxDbpcgOZDGTeXDc7bbtQG91g/s400/Fotor_153927733233892.jpg) |
Barbed wire fences everywhere. |
After the second pass I found myself gently coasting down the mountain range alongside a river. It was not to last though. The road quickly diverged from the river and began steadily creeping up the Andes for a third time. This was not a nice meandering uphill filled with convenient switchbacks. No, in Colombia they use the straight up and over method. The faster you get to the other side the better. In a car the method is okay. On a bike it is a killer. It reminded me of a hybrid between the Rockies and Appalachions. Steep grades like Applachia, but massive heights like the Rockies. I finally smashed the third pass by 10 am.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLBkZNozmMf2Z8BxjvnlGsAmO65NhknFr4iytUJx_a7stbLqcHdPI3kkbznUTZgoyTlM5ofU59o27aUVw_Op6d4i92Ri385DHqFLoABRrgjhVXHdZ2IzXQH1ggCjvPb5zUFKU2vGe8K4/s400/Fotor_153927723538468.jpg) |
Nice green pasture. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOSp-5y7amN2gXdg5LJwSmHDzG_6SBAhFq7g_CQoigRUNQH3eC-rySsITmZdggZ4xC2pKlTh9eSbRSO4JGL5sfcZrM4Cl9_WJn_HMFmCH16Gompcm9XJicEfa50R1NrgpCj4uYtAKY_Mw/s400/Fotor_153927702693588.jpg) |
A bicyclist's best friend. |
I was already beat. I took a long break alongside a river, while I washed off a few layers of sweat and gave my muscles some time to rejuvenate. My fingers were crossed that there would not be anymore climbing today. Again I was cruising down the mountain in the valley created by this strong muddy water. On my way through a little village I got a flat. It was actually a very convenient place for a flat. The road was not too busy, and I had a nice area on the shoulder to swap the tubes. New tire and new mountain. I began the push up the mountains for the fourth time. Just then the rains came. It wasn't too strong, plus it felt better than the blaring sun. At a snail's pace I trudged on. I was running out of juice and I had to take several breaks on this climb. These roads were either engineered by a madman or a drunk.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstF0ywbsfACIZZkFWCYrygDd3wC9vBGgIOK_fj15K3FV07xh0feROfUwAkwBsd9VMLAVyfRKnz1QaowJCiU4JpABYPFJxmZYnh6sLYSoWFnrexiUfku9JxO6ES_ybpN2BHpFFbJ0nvqY/s400/Fotor_153927734930684.jpg) |
One of the many rivers I crossed in the past few days. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsX_9r2qzasNWVnR7Or8bke-FAArqpwT9dQSIL2wpB-h-e7Tho1Xx_QXYhV4J-4VnEy2Gxe0yrz4OId3VCc_xFVpvr-N8yIZD5EcJvQU9huyCBqyb4z61Lgvhxf60o0kjF-mMfIxNmO8/s400/Fotor_153927719571296.jpg) |
The views here have been stunning. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWGuiyDDd6y0JLhz1OuZ9EHqebgubnBT5h1caafkVIeYeSsvNIZMHVhSx882k1kiBtr3UNYaGI0POjARWIL1_BR6rJkjmWs9u71-HV3s2uIOetCrZjTOgO7ujvgRry6HQrfrX2E_niP6M/s400/Fotor_153927722187285.jpg) |
The local butcher. |
Finally I reached my fourth mountain pass by 2 pm. I floated down the mountain and my body rejoiced in the adrenaline rush I got from flying down the mountain at 40 mph. It was awesome, but not to last long. I soon found myself at the foot of the Andes for a fifth time. It was early and I had not covered much ground, but I didn't have the heart to pedal up another mountain today. I wandered down to the banks of the river and found a great spot for camping. It was also a great spot for bathing. I rinsed off and enjoyed the soothing sound of the water as the sun set behind the rocky giants. It was a perfect way to relax after a tough day of riding.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAr9XPDykLNW0bbqXus-hKgv_OE68z9pJMLIFQaRzJcQKtcbmMabsalClff81HU6FnAMULpffp8ERXyiiuY4zAEDtNwBHqyRUVolRdtLf82Qw_8e38_6sBoHiuUh5nfDSjnuK0HzXHZqU/s400/Fotor_153927717867955.jpg) |
A large mountainside house. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDlZw3BGqk3dPIR7D5xSnkSzH-QriyIwamnlUHNy4koPv2g6bVPuBSG5K2UQTF_MeOQKxopphOblhMYDATMHTj7rlcG0PHsXIxduOmR0aj5_B8hWXMazJzftEbHn5EkXpGOhWCtOUZ4g/s400/Fotor_153927696611649.jpg) |
Morning view. |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSXvD3qEtuf9QvBP5KrF7TObnL0H7e4Lm3kY5rgROyCR_JUmdk3qZA2WwjQ81pditvqHzrgqpulvtE56ykhFzITcKAGzOEXXFbJfxVz8vcdA7mRQJjH9a96sQjLLXevB31DdEuo-uFIQ/s400/Fotor_153927698945745.jpg) |
My riverside camping spot. |
To put things into perspective I only crossed nine Rocky mountain passes on my entire cross-USA trip. In Colombia I crossed four passes in one day!
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfAWd4WFMndxngDC2BistAR9VvRLT9ztFt_ZvQ4n0VTqKQeK8F_M_DVgRc1lZYHZZHUPpopbzBKNUHD0JhX_mxOTmOSOTWBeGwDWoopDjmWJsnes4NtHZWNgivpt3sf1Z-2296nY5bc2w/s400/Fotor_15392769513191.jpg) |
Bucaramanga. |
Had a few more massive climbs today to get into Bucaramanga, but I was pushing hard to make it to a new city. Heading towards Bogotá later today.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mNAD58kj38jjgYYFIlfIs2rGKXkyDDnrNQ_C96WWVu95Q_H2rVcvFdAg-kFZN70LtHNCMMmVL5HcejU_Uixly70ab4f3GOwmJhSudf74HnIEfmN-yz4sMpIJr8iXkk2Rmm2NWY2kgAs/s400/Fotor_153927716100764.jpg) |
Let the good times roll! |
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