Cycling Colombia Part 4: Ibagué to Neiva
2 - 9 July 2024
2 July - Ibagué to El Espinal (34.4 mi, 55.4 km)
3 July - El Espinal to Natagaima (43.2 mi, 70.0 km)
4 July - Natagaima to Villavieja (35.7 mi, 57.5 km)
5-6 July - Layover in Villavieja
7 July - Villavieja to Neiva (22.6 mi, 36.4 km)
8-9 July - Layover in Neiva
Returning to the Lowlands
Cycling doesn’t get much easier than it was on our first day’s ride out of Ibagué, Colombia. Over the course of 35 miles (55 km) we descended more than 3,000 ft (915 m), with just a little bit of uphill climbing. It took us about half an hour to escape the urban clutches of the city, but after that we enjoyed a nice, wide, paved shoulder bordering the highway. On the steepest part of the descent there was a wonderful, dedicated bike path that kept us safely away from the busy traffic. It was a relaxing and stress-free way to ease back into cycling after our extended, festival-induced layover in Ibagué.
We were captivated by watching the landscape change as we steadily lost elevation. Within 45 minutes of our departure, the habitats along the highway became noticeably drier. Dense, damp forests were replaced by open savannas dotted with clusters of mesquite and acacia trees. The mountains in the background developed lighter shades of green and brown, with sparse vegetation that exposed the underlying ridges of rock.
As we descended off of the Central Andean Ridge, the surrounding landscape became more arid, exposing more rocks on the surrounding mountains. Gualanday, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The biggest challenge of the day’s ride was the heat. By 9:30am we had already lost a lot of elevation, and with lower elevation comes higher temperatures. The temperature soared dramatically. Soon after that we hit one of the few climbs of the day on an exposed, sunny stretch of road. Part of the way up the hill PedalingGuy stopped, and had a hard time catching his breath. He was still recovering from a cold that he picked up among the crowds in Ibagué, but it was still a bit of a shock. Wary of the risk of dehydration, we stopped at the next little roadside restaurant for a drink and a break in the shade. That helped a lot.
In several places we cycled past dense clusters of roadside snack stands. Nearly all of them advertised the same basic menu. And it was pretty obvious that mangoes were in season. El Vergel, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
But even the hot sun couldn’t slow us down that much. Right after our break in the shade, we had a stroke of good luck. From that point onward, the road was bordered by really big trees, called ‘monkey pod trees.’ The long branches completely shaded the highway, creating a pleasantly cool corridor - even as the heat index rose well over 100F (37F).
Our destination, the city of El Espinal (pop. 56,800), is an important center for the manufacture of traditional musical instruments. A monument topped by a large tambora (traditional drum) welcomed visitors to the city. El Espinal, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
It was Copa America (America’s Cup) season - when national soccer (football) teams from all across the Americas compete in a championship series that’s held every four years. The United States was hosting the games, but unfortunately the USA’s team didn’t make it out of the first round of play.
Colombia’s team, on the other hand, was on a roll. We spent the evening in El Espinal indoors, glued to the game on television. We cheered as Colombia’s team survived a hard-fought match against Brazil, always a strong competitor. The final score was a tie, but that was good enough for both Colombia and Brazil to advance to the quarterfinals. Colombians were, understandably, very excited. It seemed like half the population was wearing the yellow, red and blue team jerseys that night.
The Magical Magdalena River Valley
Our arrival in El Espinal brought us into Colombia’s central heartland. Formed by the country’s longest and most economically important river, the Magdalena Valley looms large in the national consciousness. Four out of five Colombians live in the Magdalena River drainage, and its importance as a historic transportation corridor is evidenced in the numerous towns with Spanish colonial roots that border the river. The abundant water and sunshine also create ideal conditions for agriculture. Three quarters of Colombia’s food production comes from the Magdalena Valley.
But there is something else that sets the river apart. Since the earliest oral histories, the Magdalena River has been considered enchanted. Legends abound regarding an indigenous princess who drowned in the headwaters of the river while trying to run away with her family’s treasure, and whose spirit now haunts the river. Stories about several other mythical beings, like the Mohan, a human-like creature that lives in the depths of the river and lures young women to their doom, are also widely known (and sometimes believed).
The river is a particularly potent symbol in Colombia’s national literature, figuring prominently in the works of literary icons like Gabriel García Márquez, whose style of ‘magical realism’ entwines the river with the lives of his characters.
For us, a key consideration was that the valley has a low elevation and as a result would be very hot, so early morning rides became the rule. Our objective was to get in as much cycling before 9am as possible, when the heat would not be as big a factor.
We cycled southward in an almost straight line, slowly making our way through the broad expanse of the Magdalena Valley. Rice fields, pastures and wetlands covered the flat lands along the route. Meanwhile, mountains towering over 14,000 ft (4,260 m) loomed like blue-gray ghosts in the distance, to both our east and west.
The tall, central ridge of the Colombian Andes rose in the distance, as the early morning sun illuminated the foothills on the western edge of the Magdalena Valley. El Espinal, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The Magdalena Valley was really wide - more than 20 miles (32 km) across - even though we were well over 500 miles (800 km) upstream from the sea. We managed to cycle all day without ever actually getting close to the big river. However, some of the tributaries we saw flowing towards the Magdalena River were pretty impressive. Highway bridges took us across several broad, shallow rivers full of riffles and sand bars.
The Saldaña River was just one of the big tributaries bringing water out of the Andes Mountains and into the Magdalena Valley. Saldaña, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
A trio of house cats watched us intently from the side of the road. Cats tend to be relatively uncommon in Colombia, but dogs are everywhere. Saldaña, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Colombia continued to serve up a highly-entertaining variety of road crossing signs. Unfortunately, in this part of the country the signs were not identified with the names of the species, so we weren’t always sure about what we should be watching out for. We had fun trying to guess the various species, though.
In one small town more than a dozen pottery shops lined both sides of the highway, all selling similar-looking containers, piggy banks, lawn ornaments and flower holders. These towns often make us wonder if most of the families are related, and a trade (like making pottery) is handed down across generations until everyone is in the same business. Nueva Esperanza, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
We passed this other cyclist on the way into town, with his long machete dangling off the back, a big sack of some produce, and a homemade ‘safety flag’ to alert passing cars to his wide load. Natagaima, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The village of Natagaima (pop. 13,800) had a small town feel, with a quiet, leafy central plaza. A statue in the plaza honored La Contabandista, a style of the national dance that is unique to the region. It’s only performed when accompanied by a specific song that was written by a regional composer in the early 20th century. The Contrabandista dance is so tightly associated with this area that we heard the song many times during the Colombian Folklore Festival back in Ibagué.
This statue in the village square honored a style of dance that originated within this region of the country, and is only performed to a single song that was composed here. Natagaima, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
At a fruit market in town, we finally took a photo of some lulos - a fruit we first encountered in Panama, but which is particularly abundant in Colombia. Lulos are closely related to tomatoes, so they bruise easily. As a result, they are rarely shipped outside of the few countries where they are grown (primarily Colombia, Panama, Ecuador and Peru). The fruit has a very complex mix of sweet, sour and tart flavors, and is extremely popular as a juice drink or dessert topping. Since arriving in Colombia, we now drink lulo juice all the time.
A pile of ripe, orange lulos - an extremely popular, tropical fruit that is rarely encountered outside of the few countries where it is grown. Natagaima, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Our hotel in Natagaima was quiet when we arrived a little before noon. Although our room overlooked a small courtyard with three pools, we thought we might be safe from noise since it was a weekday. Plus, the water in a couple of the pools looked a little cloudy, so we thought people would be unlikely to swim. Not so. Around 3pm several local families arrived just to use the pool. It is not uncommon for hotels with pools to open them for community swims during the afternoons. For the rest of the day they blasted music and had a wonderful time splashing around. We were relieved when the receptionist told us that the pool would close at 7pm.
From 3-7pm the pools at our hotel were packed with local families. Many hotels in Latin America let neighbors use their pool, often for a small fee. As a result, it can get pretty noisy in the afternoons. But things quiet down at night. Natagaima, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Sure enough, when we returned from dinner the pool was closed and we enjoyed a nice, quiet night.
Early the next morning we continued our journey up the Magdalena Valley. By this point, nearly all of the land along the road had been converted to agriculture - mostly rice paddies and pastures - with the mountain foothills as an ever-present backdrop.
Morning light illuminated the foothills of the Andes, which were reflected in the still water of a flooded rice field. South of Natagaima, Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
We passed this particularly elaborate, roadside shrine near the town of Velu. Tolima Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The blue shadow of the Central Andean Ridge rose up behind the green fields of rice. South of las Brisas, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Three and a half hours into our ride, we turned off of the main highway onto a quiet, rural road towards the town of Aipe. We had planned to cycle into the town, then catch a ferry across the Magdalena River. However, before we reached the edge of town we saw roadside signs for a river ferry. Since we weren’t completely sure where the ferry was located, we decided to follow the signs, rather than the GPS track on our route map.
These signs along a rural road convinced us to turn here towards the river ferry, rather than following our GPS route map (which would have had us continue straight ahead). North of Aipe, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Our First Encounter with the Magdalena River
The ferry signs quickly led us farther and farther away from our original route. We found ourselves navigating through a somewhat confusing maze of bumpy, deserted, dusty roads, increasingly dependent on those hand-painted ferry signs to find our way. There definitely were moments when we started to question the wisdom of our decision to abandon the original route. Fortunately, there was a sign at most of the key intersections, so we didn’t really get lost (even though we felt a bit lost).
The ferry signs took us through a maze of quiet, rural roads. As we approached the Magdalena River, the landscape became drier and drier. Near Aipe, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
By the time we passed this statue of an alien sitting in the lotus pose, we were starting to wonder if it was such a good idea to have taken this road. Nearby there was another statue of ET riding on Elliot’s bicycle. It was somewhat of a mystery why those statues were there, in the middle of nowhere. Near Aipe, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
When we reached the banks of the Magdalena River we were quite relieved to see that there actually was a ferry there. The boat was slowly making its way towards us from the far side of the river. The murky water was flowing so fast that the ferry had to point its bow upstream and basically power into the current, crossing the river sideways (just like the ‘upstream ferry’ maneuver for crossing a swift river in a canoe).
The ferry crossed the Magdalena River towards us, moving sideways. The boat had to motor directly into the fast-moving current, with its bow pointed upstream. Near Aipe, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
When the ferry docked on the gravelly shore, we were eager to board the boat for the ride to the other side. But our hopes were dashed. After unloading the passengers (a couple of pedestrians and a single car), the two deck hands came ashore and headed straight for a small, makeshift snack stand. Worse, they then settled into some chairs in the shade.
We quickly got the impression that the ferry wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. An inquiry into how long it might be before we could cross the river proved us right - the ferry crew was going to wait until a car arrived (so they could get the higher fare). The fee for transporting two cyclists apparently wasn’t sufficient to warrant making the trip.
A makeshift snack stand near the ferry landing provided a small patch of shade. When the ferry arrived on our side of the river, the two crew members had a seat under the tarp to wait for a car before making the next crossing. Near Aipe, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Lacking any better options, we found a couple of other chairs in the shade and made ourselves comfortable. A pair of saffron finches provided us with some entertainment. The male finch decided that his reflection in a motorbike’s rear-view mirror was an unwelcome intruder. He spent the next 10 minutes attempting to chase his imaginary rival away.
A male saffron finch decided that the bird (his reflection) he saw in the mirror on a motorbike was trespassing on his turf. Near Aipe, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
For the next 10 minutes, the finch did his best to chase the interloper away. Near Aipe, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
However, it didn’t take long for the boat crew to get bored and make us an offer. When no cars had shown up after about 15 minutes, one of the guys suggested that if we paid 10K pesos (the fare for a car) we could leave immediately. That was almost double the 6K fare for two bicycles - but it still came out to only US$2.50 total, for both of us. We quickly accepted the offer. Moments later we were powering across the chocolate-colored river.
Happy to be crossing the chocolate-colored waters of the Magdalena River. Near Aipe, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
There were no formal docks. The ferry simply pushed its bow onto the river bank, and lowered its ramp onto the gravel shore. Magdalena River, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The Edge of the Tatacoa Desert
The ferry crossing was about 1.5 miles (2.4 km) from our destination in the town of Villavieja. Unfortunately, by this time it was blazingly hot. Slowly we ground our way uphill, climbing out of the river valley towards the town. Within moments, we emerged from the thick tangle of trees growing along the river bank, and entered a landscape of thorns and cacti. We had reached the edge of the Tatacoa Desert.
Looking back toward the thick border of trees along the banks of the Magdalena River, with the Central Andean Ridge in the background. The signs for the river ferry were simple, hand-painted placards on this side of the river, too. North of Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The landscape farther from the river looked more like a desert, as we cycled past the first big cacti we’d seen in several months. North of Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Fifteen minutes later we reached our hotel in Villavieja (pop. 2,500) - the only town of any size in the Tatacoa Desert. With the temperature pushing into the upper 90sF (35+C), we chose to spend the rest of the day hanging out in the comforts of town. The leafy central plaza was shaded by a huge, spreading kapok tree. And in the shadow of its branches, a statue of a giant sloth evoked the desert’s status as one of the top fossil deposit sites in the Americas for prehistoric mammals.
A giant sloth (statue) prowled the shadows beneath a massive kapok tree in the town’s central plaza. Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Losing Ourselves in the Red Desert
When people think of Colombia, they typically visualize steamy jungles, mountainsides covered with coffee bushes, and damp cloud forests. Some might even picture high-elevation páramos - expanses of grasses and hardy shrubs that grow above tree line on the tallest peaks of the Andes. Most people can be forgiven, though, if they don’t think of deserts. Just a tiny fraction of the country’s landscape is arid enough to support desert-like habitats. Yet the few deserts that do exist are absolutely fascinating. And our route took us right to the edge of one.
The Tatacoa Desert is Colombia’s largest inland desert, covering an area roughly the size of Saguaro National National Park (in Arizona). Although the area can be quite wet in the rainy season, the harsh dry season and well-drained soils favor only the most drought-loving plants like cacti and thorn bushes. Hardly anyone lives out in the most arid places. Furthermore, the gravelly soil is highly susceptible to erosion. As a result, the landscape in the Tatacoa Desert is a giant, intricate labyrinth of sculpted canyons that are perfect for hiking and exploring.
But not in the afternoon. With blazing sun, extreme temperatures and few services, aspiring hikers are constantly warned to carry plenty of water and avoid being out on the desert trails in the heat of the day. So after a good night’s rest we were up before dawn (along with the roosters, who started crowing at 5am). Our pre-arranged tuktuk arrived promptly at 6am to take us into the desert. A few minutes later we were standing at the trailhead of the The Labyrinth - a mind-boggling maze of trails through the Red Desert.
A hilltop view of The Labyrinth. Traces of iron give the soil its characteristic, rusty color. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Looking down on The Labyrinth from the top of a hill, it was obvious that erosion played a major role in creating this landscape. The red soil is very loose and gravely. So the seasonal rains constantly sculpt the ground into a tangle of narrow channels and canyons, up to 65 ft (20 m) deep.
From the ridge along the road, we descended into the labyrinth - whereupon we lost all sense of direction. An interlocking network of desert trails followed the valley floors, winding among the thousands of steep-walled gullies. It was surprisingly easy to lose track of where we were, and wander off of the main path into one of the side canyons. But that was part of the fun. For three hours we had a blast exploring the quiet, ochre-colored corridors - admiring the graceful rock shapes, spotting desert birds, and appreciating the hardy plants that were able to grow in such a challenging environment.
Savoring the company of a giant organ cactus. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Vermillion flycatchers added a splash of color. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
A bicolored wren atop an organ cactus. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Not all of the animals in the desert were wild. The land was too dry for cows, but we saw a herd of sheep on a distant, grassy hillside. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Rain and wind sculpted the gravel into a gallery of beautiful shapes. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
While the Tatacoa Desert isn’t visited by a lot of international tourists, it’s actually very popular as a weekend getaway for Colombians. We had read in advance that the trails could get pretty crowded. So we were delighted to find ourselves completely alone in the desert for a couple of hours. We didn’t see a single other person until after 8:30am. All of the other visitors seemed to prefer sleeping in and having breakfast before heading out into the wilderness. As a result, we enjoyed a quiet morning of solitude among the canyons.
For a couple of hours we were completely alone on the desert trails - exploring the canyons in complete solitude. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
After 8:30am lots of people began to arrive. Many of them were in groups with tour guides, and the trails quickly started to feel more crowded. Since the day was already starting to get hot, we decided to make our way back to civilization. There was a cluster of rustic hostels, shops and restaurants near the road, so we stopped off for a drink.
A desert-themed mural on the side of an artisan’s souvenir shop. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
This sign beckoned thirsty hikers to enjoy a drink of fresh sugar cane juice. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Looking back into the labyrinth around 9am, it was clear that the trails would soon be crowded with visitors and tour groups. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
In addition to hiking, the desert is a popular place for star-gazing. On clear nights, the lack of light pollution makes for fabulous views of the sky. There are several ‘observatories’ in the desert with telescopes for tourists. Unfortunately for us, it was cloudy when we were there. Red Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
After the brief rest we started asking around to see if anyone knew how we might be able to get back to town, about 4 miles away. It didn’t take long before we found a guy who offered to drive us to town on on his motorcycle or take us in a car. Although 3 people on a motorcycle is common place in Colombia, we decided that the rough dirt road would be considerably more comfortable with the car option. Before long, we were back at our hotel.
Slot Canyons in the Gray Desert
The Red Desert is the easiest part of the Tatacoa Desert to visit, and the most popular destination for tourists. But it’s only half of the story. On our second day, we ventured a bit farther afield to the area’s other main attraction, the Gray Desert.
Several factors probably combine to dissuade many tourists from visiting the Gray Desert. The first is its name. In photos, the Red Desert just looks a lot more colorful and inviting, while the Gray Desert looks a bit drab. The Gray Desert is also more than twice as far from the town of Villavieja as the Red Desert, so it takes more time, effort and expense to get there (although it’s not really that far or expensive). And, finally, there isn’t a cluster of restaurants and shops near the Gray Desert trailhead - which might also make it seem less inviting.
That’s a shame, because we found the Gray Desert to be just as beautiful and fascinating as the Red Desert - while offering a completely distinct experience. The rock formations, canyons, vegetation and wildlife were totally different. Both areas offered us the chance to immerse ourselves in the quiet solitude of the desert. But in the Gray Desert, there were no other tourists. We didn’t see a single, other visitor.
We hiked on two different routes through the Gray Desert. The first trail, the Valley of the Xilópalos, was a short (but rugged) 1.5 mile (2.4 km) loop. Once again we began our walk up on a plateau, next to the road. But soon we descended into an increasingly narrow slot canyon where outstretched arms could touch the walls on each side. The floor of the canyon had a small stream, causing us to clamber on the surrounding rocks to keep our feet dry.
The edge of the Gray Desert. From these heights, our trail soon dropped down into a narrow canyon (see sign near the middle of the photo). Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The early morning sun cast our shadows on the canyon wall. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
As the walls of the canyon closed in around us, we were startled to hear a sudden, loud bellow break the silence just ahead of us. We immediately recognized the sound of a grumpy cow. Within a split second, we both determined that the trail at the bottom of the canyon was nowhere near wide enough for a cow to pass us. Without hesitation, we scrambled up onto the wall of the canyon - with the sound of the cow’s footfalls coming ever closer.
Moments later, a big bull ambled past us through the narrow canyon below, walking right over where we had stood. It would be hard to express just how relieved we were that we had been able to get out of the way, and avoid coming face to face with that bull in the narrow, confined canyon. In our minds, we pictured having just avoided our own, mini version of Pamplona’s running of the bull(s).
When we heard this young bull coming towards us, we quickly climbed up onto the canyon wall for safety. He seemed to be in a foul mood and bellowed as he approached. So we decided to get out of the way and give him plenty of space. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Pretty soon the walls closed in, and we found ourselves in a narrow, slot canyon. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
It was tricky, trying keep our feet dry as the canyon walls closed in on us. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Sometimes we had to use a bit of rock climbing skills. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Maybe it would have been easier to just walk through the water. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Near a small, rustic house, the trail climbed back up onto the rim of the canyon. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
These two black vultures were getting ready to take flight from the top of a hill. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The return to the main road followed the crest of a ridge, which offered great views of the surrounding desert. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
We had arranged for our tuktuk driver to wait for us at the remote trailhead. So as soon as we returned to the road, he took us over to the second trail. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Our second hike, called Los Hoyos, had a totally different feel than the narrow canyon at Xilópalos. On this trail we walked through the Valley of the Ghosts, a wider channel lined with eerie shapes and pillars. The rock formations along the way were really beautiful, and we enjoyed both hikes tremendously.
Entering the Valley of the Ghosts. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Tall, phantasmic shapes lined the trail. Valley of the Ghosts, Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Although the rocks were gray, their graceful shapes were incredibly scenic. Valley of the Ghosts, Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
One of the towers sculpted by wind and rain. Valley of the Ghosts, Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The Los Hoyos trail ends incongruously at an artificial swimming pool, in the middle of the desert. It didn’t appear to be open when we passed by. Gray Desert, Tatacoa Desert, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Back on the Magdalena River
After a couple of hours back in our hotel room, we started to get restless. We decided to take the half mile walk down to Villavieja’s waterfront along the Magdalena River.
Arriving at the river bank, we discovered that there really was a second ferry across the Magdalena River. This one was smaller, and only took pedestrians and motorbikes (compared to the one downriver that we took a couple days ago, which could accommodate cars as well).
While we were gazing at the river near the ferry dock, the girl piloting the ferry approached us to see if we would be interested in taking a scenic boat tour on the river. We’ve boated on lots of rivers, and weren’t really in the mood, so we thanked her but said, ‘no.’ However, Rosmi wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. In spite of our insistence that we weren’t interested in a boat ride, she kept telling us how much fun it would be, and all of the wildlife we would see. She even dropped the price several times, and she was pretty cute about it - which finally wore us down. We agreed to take the boat ride.
That’s when we learned that the tourist boat was actually out on the river with another group at the moment, and we would have to wait for it to return. But in the interest of keeping us from changing our minds and leaving, Rosmi encouraged us to join her on the ferry while she brought some other passengers back and forth across the river.
The ferry pilot, Rosmi, was a real saleswoman. She convinced us to take a scenic boat ride, and then gave us a ‘free’ ride on the ferry while we waited for the tourist boat to return. Magdalena River, near Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
It was fun. Rosmi’s younger brother, Juan, (who spoke some English) kept up a steady conversation with us as we motored back and forth, telling us various facts about the river. For example, we learned that the Magdalena River was running at medium height right now - even though it looked to us like it was quite high and running fast. According to Juan, by the end of July the river would overflow its western bank and flood the far shore. During the flood stage, this ferry wouldn’t operate. Juan also said that the water in the flooded river would be more clear (instead of its current, muddy brown color), and that was the time of year when locals preferred to swim in it.
Some of the other ferry passengers, as we rode back and forth across the river. Magdalena River, near Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The water was full of floating debris, and appeared to be running very fast. But according to our guide, the water would rise much higher by the end of July. Magdalena River, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Once we had returned to the Villavieja side of the river, the tourist boat arrived and dropped off the group of 10 people who had been on the previous tour. But we were lucky. We had the boat all to ourselves. The boat driver, Edwin, didn’t speak any English. However, he worked hard to maneuver the boat as close as possible to all of the animals along the river, so that we could enjoy seeing them. As the boat prowled along the banks of the river, we spotted egrets, cormorants, a turtle, lots of iguanas, and other birds.
Motoring down the river with our guide, Edwin. Magdalena River, near Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Yellow-headed Caracara. Magdalena River, near Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
A Magdalena River Turtle doing his balancing act. Near Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
A riverside banana plantation. Magdalena River, near Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Green Iguana. Magdalena River, near Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
A local crossing the river in a long, wooden lancha. Magdalena River, near Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Back on shore, we enjoyed a stroll along Villavieja’s waterfront park. The path was lined with flowering shrubs, which were a magnet for butterflies. We spotted at least six different species fluttering among the brambles.
The small, waterfront park was home to another statue of a giant sloth, whose fossils are abundant in the Tatacoa Desert. Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Monarch butterfly. Unlike monarchs in North America, Colombian monarchs don’t migrate. Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Northern Tropical Buckeye. Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Mexican Fritillary. Villavieja, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
That evening, we were back to watching the Copa America soccer tournament. This time, Colombia played Panama in the quarterfinals. It was a wipeout. Colombia clobbered Panama by a score of 5-0… an extremely lopsided result for a soccer match. You could feel the excitement in the air as Colombia’s team advanced to the semifinals. With Colombia’s national team looking so dominant, people were starting to have hope that they could finally bring home the Americas Cup. Of course, we couldn’t help rooting for them as well.
Back to the Big City
The next morning we were back on our bicycles, rolling southward out of town at 6am. It was a wonderful day for a ride. The sky was overcast with intermittent, very light rain - extremely pleasant compared to the hot, sunny mornings we had endured recently.
Our route took us onto a quiet, narrow, two-lane road for the first couple of hours. We rolled along through hayfields, pastures, and lots of wild habitat. It was pleasantly calm, and we stopped often to enjoy the scenery, take photos, and look at birds.
We spent several hours cycling on a quiet, rural road through fields and woodlands. Quebrada Bateas, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
We were a bit surprised by this sign. It says that dumping trash or decomposing animals is prohibited. Could they really have had problems with people dumping decomposing animals on their land? South of Polonia, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Delicate water lilies decorated a pond near the road. South of Polonia, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Blue-black Grassquit. South of Polonia, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Grassland Sparrow. South of Polonia, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
We especially enjoyed seeing, and hearing, a couple of tropical birds that have particularly exuberant calls. There were some chachalacas that reminded us of roosters with a sore throat. And a pair of barred antshrikes sounded like they were laughing and having a wonderful time.
This barred antshrike’s call made it sound like he thought something was very funny. South of Polonia, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
A small group of Colombian chachalacas created a racket with their loud, raucous calls. South of Polonia, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The only downside to stopping so much along the road was that sand flies were out in force. We both ended up with dozens of bites on our legs. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Eventually the quiet road ended, and we turned onto a busier highway towards the city of Neiva. For the rest of the bike ride there were fewer chances to stop. But we did end up taking an extended break in a town on the outskirts of the city. There, in a little roadside cafe, we spent about an hour watching the Tour de France bike race on TV while snacking on pastries and sipping drinks. We hadn’t had any opportunities to watch the Tour de France before that, so the rest stop was relaxing and entertaining.
This roadside cafe had the 2024 Tour de France on its television. We had fun watching the race while eating our breakfast. Fortalecillas, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The River Mystique of Neiva
An hour later we rolled into Neiva (pop. 366,000). It was the biggest city on our route since leaving Ibagué, and the most important commercial center on the southern half of the Magdalena River. With modern conveniences like hot water (which we hadn’t had in a while), we gave ourselves a treat by staying in town a couple of days.
What stood out the most about Neiva was its public art. Every plaza, no matter how small, was home to at least one impressive statue. Many of them depicted scenes from daily life, or floridly romantic themes.
This Monument to a Washer Woman stood in a tiny patch of green at the intersection of several large roads. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
This statue, named Take Me With You, epitomized the wildly romantic heart of the town. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The most well-known ‘attraction’ in Neiva is its waterfront along the Magdalena River. Like other towns along the river, Neiva has protected a swath of natural habitat in a waterfront park.
The Magdalena River flows nearly 800 miles (1300 km) from Neiva to the sea. Yet even this far inland, the river is broad. Several ferries carried passengers back and forth across the river from docks near the city. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
On the banks of the river, a path winds through the greenway, leading to some surprisingly offbeat art. A series of sculptures along the waterfront depicted mythical beings that are associated with the river in local legends, some of which date back to pre-Colombian times. Here are a few of the statues that introduced us to these strange spirits.
The Tower of El Mohan lurked among the trees along the Magdalena River, evoking the secretive ways of this river dweller. According to legend, the Mohan lives deep within the rushing waters, but can be seen at night smoking tobacco on the river banks. He is most feared by women, because he supposedly kidnaps beautiful ladies who come to the river to do their wash - and they’re never seen again. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The Patasola (one-legged witch), is a creature of the deep forest in Colombia. Stories say she appears to lone men as a beautiful young woman, seduces them, and lures them deeper into the forest until they are lost. Then she reveals her true, ugly nature and devours them. Even in modern times, this makes men who work alone in the forest suspicious of strangers. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
One of the most outlandish creatures of the night is the Evil Chicken (El Pollo Malo). Looking basically like a massive hen, this beast is said to haunt people guilty of vices like drinking and gambling. At night, it will sneak up on victims or run out in the road in front of them, emitting a high-pitched call that can drive people mad. Sometimes it also pecks at its victims, causing injury and pain - but on the bright side, it rarely kills anyone. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
The statues of the folk creatures were interesting. But the biggest, wildest, and most elaborate sculpture sat at one end of the greenway - towering over the path. It was the monument to La Gaitana, who is perhaps the most famous and revered historical figure in the upper Magdalena River Valley.
In the 1500s, the valley was populated by multiple, independent, indigenous clans. La Gaitana was one of the local chiefs. When her tribe refused to surrender land to the Spanish conquistadors, they burned her son alive. Enraged, she forged alliances with all of the surrounding clans, captured and killed the Spanish commander, and successfully led an armed rebellion for several decades. In modern lore, she is widely portrayed as a brave, shrewd, persuasive and pure symbol of Colombians’ longing for liberty.
The intricate statue of La Gaitana towers over the city’s waterfront, commemorating an indigenous heroine’s rebellion and victory over the Spanish invaders. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Another large monument near the city center represented a very different view of history. This statue portrayed the past 500 years as a forward march toward a more heroic future. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Back at the city’s central plaza, we had the chance to admire the imposing cathedral. It was built in the Gothic style about 200 years ago, and sill looked amazing. Although Colombia’s location along the Pacific Ring of Fire means it gets plenty of earthquakes, the area around Neiva has been seismically quiet for the past 500 years, so the giant brick structure remained standing. A complete restoration of the facade in 2019 ensured that the cathedral looked as good as new.
The enormous, imposing Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception towered over one side of the city’s central plaza. Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
This colorful display of folk dancers was perhaps a remnant of the recent San Juan an San Pedro Festival celebrations (which we had enjoyed back in Ibagué). Neiva, Huila Department, Colombia. Copyright © 2019-2024 Pedals and Puffins.
Changes Ahead
Since entering the Magdalena River Valley, our journey towards southern Colombia was going great. The cycling was pretty easy, through beautiful landscapes surrounded by handsome mountains. From rice paddies, to a desert labyrinth, and the mystical rush of the Magdalena River, each day rewarded us with new and enjoyable experiences. We could hardly have hoped for more.
From Neiva, our route would continue southward. Within a week’s time, we would ascend 6,000 ft (1,830 m) towards the source of the Magdalena River, in the mountains of southern Colombia. We were looking forward to the cooler, higher-elevation climate as well as some spectacular scenery. But bike trips can be unpredictable, with fate testing one’s ability to adjust to the circumstances. Little did we know, the largest challenge of our trip since leaving Deadhorse, Alaska two years ago lay in wait for us down the road. More on that in our next blog post.
