Cycling Colombia Part 5: Neiva to Bruselas… to Pitalito
10 July to September 2024
10 July - Neiva to Hobo (36.6 mi, 58.9 km)
11 July - Hobo to Gigante (19.1 mi, 30.7 km)
12 July - Rest day in Gigante
13 July - Gigante to La Jagua (23.4 mi, 37.7 km)
14 July - La Jagua to Timaná (27.7 mi, 44.6 km)
15 July - Rest day in Timaná
16 July - Timaná to Bruselas (26.2 mi, 42.2 km)
17 July - Bruselas to Pitalito (15.5 mi, 25.0 km)
18 July- September - Recuperating in Pitalito
Cycling Off The Beaten Path
Modern tourism is a recent phenomenon in Colombia. Up until 2016, when rebel factions laid down their arms, most international tourists avoided the country because of safety concerns. But by 2019, Colombia’s enchanting culture and beautiful landscapes were drawing travelers back again. Over the past few years, the pace of growth in Colombia’s tourism has been one of the highest in Latin America.
However, tourism is not evenly distributed throughout the country. The vast majority of visitors head for just a few destinations around Cartagena (northern coast), Medellín (coffee country) and Bogotá (the capital). Relatively few international travelers venture further south, towards the rural headwaters of Colombia’s major rivers.
Yet that was where we were going. From the already un-touristy city of Neiva, our cycling route continued southward towards the source of the Magdalena River. With each mile the land around us gradually became less populated. The towns along the highway seemed like they hadn’t changed much in the past 50 years. And there were virtually no tourists - certainly none from other countries. We were definitely traveling off the beaten path.
Once outside the city of Neiva, we were back in farm country and surrounded by rice fields. In terms of revenue, rice is Colombia’s third biggest agricultural product (after coffee and sugar cane). And the valley lowlands in the Huila Department (where we were cycling) are one of the top rice producing regions in the country. Yet unlike coffee and sugar, very little of the rice is exported because Colombians eat a ton of rice. It’s literally served with every meal - breakfast, lunch and dinner. So it didn’t come as a big surprise that much of the lower Magdalena River Valley was devoted to growing rice.
Best of all, for almost the whole, five hour ride we were enveloped in a cool, dappled shadow. The road was lined with big shade trees whose branches intertwined overhead. We were thrilled, because that helped to keep us from overheating, even though the day was mostly sunny and warm.
Along the way, Colombia continued to serve up an entertaining selection of animal road-crossing signs. Our favorite, new creature featured on a sign was a rather large, ominous-looking snake.
A little over three hours into our ride, we crossed a rushing stream then turned westward towards the Magdalena River. We had already ascended roughly 500 ft (150 m), which lifted us up and out of the rice-covered lowlands. From that point forward, the valley was largely covered with pastures, populated with horses and cows.
Playing It Safe
The year 2016 was a major milestone in Colombian history. That’s when the main rebel groups and the government signed a peace agreement. Subsequently, many parts of the country became much more safe and stable. However, not all of the rebel groups signed onto the agreement, and the holdouts continue to cause problems - becoming even more closely entwined with criminal organizations that raise money through drug trafficking, illegal mining, and extortion.
Although the region we were traveling through was generally considered safe, large swaths of rural territory not much more than 10 miles (16 km) to the east were still plagued by armed violence. And as we headed southward along Highway 45, we started to get signals that maybe even a few towns along our cycling route had some problems.
That was the case with the village of Hobo (pop. 5,640). Just 2.5 months before our arrival, police had warned some other cyclists that it was not safe for them to stay in the town. (Also, barely two weeks after we cycled through, five people were murdered in a gang dispute less than five miles away). So in the interest of remaining safe, we simply passed through Hobo and chose to stay at a small, roadside hotel further down the road.
There is no town near the Parador Brisas del Magdalena, where we stayed. It is simply a small, rustic set of rooms with an open-air restaurant. The biggest surprise was that it had a very large, well-kept pool surrounded by a spacious deck with lounge chairs. The pool area was actually bigger than the hotel, and probably the main draw for folks that live within driving distance. The other highlight was the friendly staff. While we were waiting for our room, one of the owners stopped to chat with us. We learned that he was an avid mountain biker. A couple of years ago he took a multi-day cycling trip with a group of about 20 people, and he regularly went for weekend rides in the nearby Andes. It was fun visiting with him.
The ladies who were cleaning the rooms, on the other hand, mainly wanted to know if we carried everything we needed in our panniers, which we do. They clearly thought we were a little bit crazy. But when they heard that we wanted to bring the bikes inside, they gave us their biggest room for the same price as a smaller one. We really appreciated that.
Colombian Soccer Fever
The previous three weeks had been Copa America season - when national soccer teams from across the Americas competed with each other for supremacy in the hemisphere. Colombia’s team had been playing very well, and we had gotten swept up in the excitement as the tournament progressed. So we were quite pleased to discover that the TV in our hotel room had the channel that was broadcasting the latest Copa America game live. That evening we watched as Colombia battled Uruguay in the semi-final match.
It was a hard-fought contest full of drama, but in the end Colombia beat Uruguay 1-0. That was a really big deal for Colombia, which has only made it to the final round of the Copa America twice since the start of the competition more than 100 years ago. We were really happy for them. And the next day, it seemed like every other person in Colombia was wearing the bright yellow team jerseys.
Soaring to Heights
We spent a tough night at the Brisas del Magdalena. The beds were hard, with a droop in the middle. The pillows were flat. Throughout the night dogs barked and trucks roared by. We were both glad it was over when the alarm went off at 5am.
To our delight, the morning was a little bit cool - a refreshing change from the sweltering heat of the past couple of weeks. After a brisk downhill start, it was actually nice to generate some heat once we began the climbing.
And climb we did. For the first hour or so we bounded over a series of hills big enough to have us down in our lower gears. And at the top of each hill we were rewarded with spectacular, panoramic views of the Magdalena River below. From the heights we could see just how much the river meandered back and forth across the valley floor, creating graceful arcs of water, gravel beds and islands.
As the terrain grew more rugged, the hillsides developed a cloak of uncultivated woodlands. Yet wherever there was flat land, the pastures and livestock would reappear.
However, that first hour of cycling was just a warmup for the main attraction. Near the rural hamlet of Laberinto, the climbing began in earnest. From there we launched upwards, gaining 1,200 ft in just over another hour. The climb felt relentless to our unaccustomed legs. In addition, we had to contend with road construction almost the entire way. On several long stretches we were dodging one-way traffic coming in the other direction. It wasn’t very relaxing. But we appreciated the fact that the Colombian road crews didn’t seem to mind us cycling through the construction zones, and usually let us pass even when the cars were being stopped from going through.
All the hassles were worth it. Along the way we were treated to more overlooks with awesome views of the Magdalena River below. As we approached the top of the climb, we found ourselves cycling along a narrow ridge, with big valleys falling away on both sides. Out on the river, a hydroelectric dam created a sprawling reservoir. With the mountain cliffs in the background, it was gorgeous.
After 3.5 hrs of cycling, we reached the end of the ridge and enjoyed a speedy descent into the town of Gigante. With the remaining miles whizzing by, we took the time to stop for a satisfying breakfast at a big, roadside restaurant. As if we hadn’t had enough televised sports (with the previous night’s soccer match), the restaurant was broadcasting the Tour de France bike race on two giant TV screens. We were able to catch the final sprint to the finish, while savoring our eggs and rice.
From there it was just a short jaunt to the hotel in Gigante (pop. 10,000). For many years the town’s claim to fame was a huge, 170-year-old tree in the central plaza. Known as the Ceiba of Liberty, the tree was planted in the plaza during the mid-1800s to celebrate the abolition of slavery in Colombia. By the 21st century, the trunk of the tree was nearly 13 ft (4 m) in diameter and it rose to 130 ft (40 m) tall with massive, spreading branches. Unfortunately, the tree passed away in 2021. Yet the town is apparently loathe to say goodbye to the old giant. It’s big, old trunk still stood in the center of the plaza, with sections of the trunk and limbs laying on the ground next to it. It must have been a magnificent tree.
Cycling Into the Land of Witches
It was a gloomy morning as we prepared to depart from Gigante. Just as we were getting ready to leave it started raining, sending us back to bed for another hour. We were finally able to get out the door around 8am.
Once we were on the road, the conditions were perfect for cycling. With the cloud cover, it stayed pleasantly cool all day. Our route meandered through rolling countryside along the margins of the Magdalena River, taking us across four modest ridges. Similar to the previous ride, we were treated to beautiful views of the river and mountains from the heights of the hills.
We ended our ride in the sleepy village of La Jagua (pop. 1,290), widely believed to be haunted by witches. The legends are somewhat amorphous, but seem to date back to pre-Colombian times when the area was reportedly a center for indigenous rituals and religious ceremonies. There is also evidence that some gypsies emigrated to the town during the 1600s, reportedly drawn by tales of the indigenous shamans who lived there. Through a mixing of native and gypsy traditions, a community of herbalists and fortune-tellers arose and took root in La Jagua.
These days they say that the witches who live there are very discreet, and rarely seen. But many people in the region believe they exist, and claim to have seen or heard them laughing as they fly through the night on their brooms. Many townspeople also guard their homes with garlic, mustard seeds, holy water, and other religious symbols to ensure that no witches enter during the night.
We did not see any witches during our visit. On the contrary, La Jagua exuded a quaint, historic charm. Its cobblestone streets were lined with colorful houses and murals, reminiscent of the ones we saw in Salento, Colombia. We definitely got the feeling that the town was trying to become a tourist destination, by playing up its colonial past and the legends about the witches. But even though we were there on a Saturday, the streets and the central plaza were surprisingly quiet.
While out for an evening walk, we did find one corner of the village that was humming with activity. At the town’s soccer field, there was a vigorous match under way. This wasn’t a kid’s game. The middle-aged guys on the field played hard, with a lot of skill, enthusiasm, and aggressiveness - as if the championship was on the line. We enjoyed watching them for 15-20 minutes, until one of the teams finally scored.
Back in town, we spotted another ‘sporting’ event. We had finally come across one of Colombia’s rumored tejo halls. In fact, tejo is officially Colombia’s national sport, but this was the first time we had seen it in action. Basically, contestants throw a metal disc at a board covered with clay that contains small paper targets filled with gunpowder. When someone scores, the gunpowder explodes with a loud bang - which is all part of the fun. We only watched for a few moments, and (unfortunately) didn’t get to see any of the targets explode.
Grand Canyon of the Magdalena
Departing La Jagua, we had another nice, cloudy day. As if to validate our good luck, we were treated to a gorgeous, glowing rainbow just 15 minutes outside of town.
As we headed toward the upper reaches of the Magdalena River, the terrain began to buckle and fold into a series of mountains. To reach our destination in the town of Timaná, we had to cycle over two sizable ridges - each one rising about 1,300 ft (400 m).
By the time we reached the top of the first climb, the sun had come out and we were getting hot and sweaty. We stopped for a refreshing break at a roadside restaurant, in a town that seemed to cater to highway travelers. Among the paradors and restaurants, there were gift shops selling ceramics - a specialty craft in the region.
From there we cycled into a narrow canyon, with the Magdalena River rushing along rapids far below the road. This was the Grand Canyon of the Magdalena, and it was an impressive change of scenery. A sign by the road indicated that there was whitewater rafting on this stretch of the river, and it was easy to see why.
Shortly after entering the canyon, our route turned away from the Magdalena River and the forest around us changed. We had gained enough elevation to exit the lowland dry forests, and return to the montane forests we had enjoyed on our previous journey over the Central Andean Ridge. We could really see the difference, as the vegetation became more lush, tropical and damp. A big indicator was the sudden explosion of air plants (epiphytes) growing thickly along the branches of the trees.
Throughout the day, the road conditions varied quite a bit. There had been a lot of road construction ever since we left Neiva. Not surprisingly, the road surfaces varied from brand new, smooth pavement to fresh gravel, to scraped surfaces (pre-paving), and even old, battered roads full of patches and potholes. We saw it all. In addition, many miles of road had been reduced to one-way traffic. Fortunately, the road construction crews continued to be pretty relaxed about letting bikes through, but we had to be careful. There were stretches when we had to share narrow lanes with cars, trucks and motorbikes.
In the town of Timaná (pop. 8,000), we checked into a hotel where we were given a tiny room on the first floor. As the manager was preparing the room for us, the she sprayed the entire room with Raid pesticide, to “get rid of the mosquitos.” When we entered the room, the smell from the pesticide was overpowering.
Breathing the chemicals didn’t seem like such a great idea to us, so we decided too hang out in the courtyard to let the air in the room clear out. While waiting, we walked up to the second floor and discovered that there was a much bigger room up there, where we could have our bikes inside without feeling crowded. We checked with the manager and she was happy to let us move. It was a wonderful upgrade, so we were thrilled.
An Epic Battle Between Colombia and Argentina
The night of our arrival in Timaná was the BIG final came of the Copa America soccer tournament - where Colombia would battle Argentina for the championship. Argentina was heavily favored to win. But Colombia’s team had been playing really well and the entire country was pumped up in the hope that this year, finally, they would be able to bring the Cup home.
In anticipation of the game, the whole town was decked out in Colombia’s national colors. And after checking in, we learned that our hotel would be hosting a game-watching event. The match would be projected onto a big screen, on the wall of the hotel’s event space - a large, covered patio right outside our room. It was definitely going to be a noisy night. Luckily, we were enthusiastic about watching the game, too.
Our host had told us that the event at the hotel would be small, for just a few friends. But the crowd that gathered in the event space was huge - easily close to 100 people. We joined the fun as the game was projected onto the wall with an image as big as a movie screen. Giant speakers blasted the sound from the TV so loud it was impossible to hear anything else.
Throughout the game the audience would gasp and cheer with every goal attempt, or twist and turn in the game. Both teams played really hard. And at the end of the regular time, the score was 0-0! The game then extended into two, 15-minute overtime periods. Argentina finally scored a point after 22 minutes of overtime. It was heartbreaking. The Colombian team really played with a lot of heart. And in the end the folks of Timaná were really proud of their guys. Outside the hotel, honking and fireworks lasted well into the night even though Columbia did not win the game. It was after midnight before things finally started to quiet down.
Ancestral Heartland of La Gaitana
Following the very late night watching the Copa America soccer match, we took a rest day in the town of Timaná.
The Spanish first established Timaná in 1538, expecting it to serve as an important waypoint on the road between Bogotá and Peru. However, fierce resistance by the indigenous tribes in the region eventually caused most traffic to detour across the central Andes, leaving Timaná somewhat isolated. Over the following centuries, the town grew in mythical stature because of the legend of the indigenous struggles - which became symbols of the fight for liberty - but the region has kept its rural, small-town quality.
When we went out in search of dinner, a local man on a motorbike asked if he could help us find something. Gustavo ended up suggesting a small shop that served fast food and ice cream. We both ended up ordering burritos. They were not exactly Mexican-style, but they were still very good - and a nice change of pace from the usual Colombian meat platters. It was a great recommendation.
A Holy Day for Road Travelers
Our ride out of Timaná began with an another big climb. In the first 1.5 hrs, we ascended another 2,000 ft (610 m) in elevation. The good news was that we had already gained a lot of altitude over the previous couple of days. So even though the sky was clear and sunny, the temperature remained pleasantly cool. However, there weren’t any big vistas. For the most part we churned along through woodlands and farms. Many of the ranches had ornate, metal gates adorned with impressive artwork
Once again, there was a ton of road construction. Sometimes we were lucky and were able to cycle on a side of the road that was closed to traffic. But often we had to weave back and forth, dodging the traffic that that came through in alternate directions. We were both looking forward to eventually getting past all this road work.
Soon after reaching the top of the big climb, we caught sight of something new. The road into the town of Pitalito was lined with large, colorful paintings mounted on billboards. It turned out that these were part of the Pitalito Roadside Museum of Art - a collection of 40 paintings by local artists. The artwork was first installed in 2000, but the paintings also underwent a major renovation in 2018 so they looked fantastic. We were so enamored with the images that we stopped to take photos of nearly all of them. It was a wonderful way to brighten up the road, and to showcase the tremendous talent of the artists native to this region of Colombia.
As we got closer to our destination for the day, we started to worry about our chances of securing a place to stay. We had hoped to stay in the small town of Bruselas (pop. 3,850), where - as far as we knew - there was only one hotel. However, there was a strong possibility that some of the road construction workers would be occupying the hotel rooms.
Then, on our way into town, our concerns intensified. The central plaza was packed with people celebrating something. That’s when we learned that July 16 was the Catholic holiday of Día del Carmen. The surrounding streets were clogged with cars, and we could hear singing coming from the plaza. It seemed likely that with all the festivities, there would be even more demand for hotel rooms.
Sure enough, when we got to the hotel there was a sign on the door saying they were full. We were not excited by the thought of having to cycle many more miles up the road (and uphill) to find another place to stay. Anxiously, we asked the folks at the bakery next door if there was another hotel in town. And we were absolutely thrilled when they said that, yes, there was! It was only a few blocks away, so we hustled over there as fast as we could. To our huge relief, they had a room available. It was pretty small, with no air conditioning or fan, but we managed to squeeze all our stuff inside.
After settling in we went back outside to check out the festival. By that time it seemed like the main events had ended, and people were starting to leave. However, we learned that in Colombia, the Virgen del Carmen is the patron saint of all vehicles and drivers. Therefore, one of the local priests was out by the road in front of the church, blessing cars, trucks and motorbikes with holy water as they drove slowly by. Not far away, another procession of cars passed, with an image of the Virgin on top of the lead vehicle.
Coffee Country… With a Few Trout About
The next morning we were up and out on the road around 6am, just as the sun was beginning to rise. And before long, it was clear that we were back in coffee country. For nearly four hours we slowly ascended onto the Colombian Massif, a great ridge of mountains where the eastern and central ridges of the Andes come together in southern Colombia. And for much of the ride, the surrounding hillsides were studded with coffee plants.
Although the more famous Coffee Route is centered in the mountains near Medellín more than 300 miles (480 km) away, in recent years this part of Colombia has become the country’s biggest producer of coffee for export. They say that the coffee grown in Huila Department is more aromatic and flavorful, and it has won more national competitions than the coffee grown further north. They’ve even designated a new tourist trail, the Magic Coffee Route, with the hopes of luring visitors with the region’s unique mix of delicious coffee and mystical legends.
The fact that coffee is a major product of this region is not too surprising, given Colombia’s close association with coffee internationally. But there’s another farmed animal that was a bit unexpected. It turns out that the Huila Department is Colombia’s biggest producer of farmed fish - especially rainbow trout. The fish were being raised in concrete pools, sustained by high volumes of river water rushing through on its way out of the mountains. Many of the farms that we passed had roadside restaurants featuring trout dishes, and a few also had small hotels. We thoroughly enjoyed a 45 minute breakfast break at one of the trout farm restaurants, in a dining room that was set high on a hill overlooking the farm and river below.
After the four hour climb, we finally reached the summit of the pass across the Colombian Massif. Perched on the top of the ridge was a nature reserve called El Cedro (‘the cedar’). For about a mile we cycled through a lovely montane landscape, blanketed with lush fields and forests of tree ferns.
From the top of the ridge, we looked forward to nearly two days of (mostly) downhill cycling. It was a wonderful feeling to sail down the mountain, in the chilly mountain air. But barely 10 minutes later, disaster struck.
The Crash That Would Change Our Future
Perhaps we should have ridden our bikes through the line to get sprinkled with holy water in honor of the Virgen del Carmen. The blessing was supposed to help protect travelers on the road. And with what happened next, it seems we could have used a bit more protection.
PedalingGuy was cycling in front with PedalingGal following behind, and we were cruising downhill at 30+ mph (50+ kph). PedalingGuy does not recall hearing anything, but something made him turn around and look back. That’s when he saw PedalingGal and her bicycle laying on the ground in the middle of the road. He immediately jumped off of his bike and ran back to help.
What he found was not good. PedalingGal was unconscious, and bleeding from multiple scrapes and cuts caused by impact with the road. Once she became conscious, she still couldn’t move even the smallest amount, which was very troublesome. Fortunately, a couple of other people arrived and helped PedalingGuy move PedalingGal out of the traffic lane to the side of the road as carefully as possible. He first put pressure on the wounds to stop the bleeding. Then he covered her with his sleeping bag and did his best to make her comfortable while waiting for an ambulance to arrive.
An hour and a half later, we were loaded into an ambulance and racing back north to the nearest hospital, in the town of Pitalito. Somehow PedalingGuy managed to find someone to take the bikes from the scene of the accident, and keep them until we could recover them later.
The ambulance was a converted pickup truck with a medical cab on the back, which was well suited to the dirt and winding roads often encountered in the mountains. That was good, because it was a hair-raising, hour-long, winding and bumpy ride down out of the mountains. PedalingGal was semi-conscious, cold and hurting. PedalingGuy said that PedalingGal was wailing during the entire trip. She mainly remembers feeling nauseous from the bumping and swaying, and wishing that the vehicle would just stop so that she could rest. The trip seemed to last forever.
The staff in the emergency room were wonderful, and provided excellent care. Perhaps they see a lot of this type of injury, given that motorcycles are the most common form of transportation in Colombia. PedalingGal received six stitches over her left eye, an electrolyte and pain killer IV, and a bunch of tests to check for internal injuries.
In the end, she was diagnosed with seriously bruised ribs, some other bruised bones (with a small fracture over her left eye), and brain fog from a concussion. But given that she had fallen off her bicycle while speeding downhill, we were grateful that the injuries weren’t any worse. PedalingGal has no memory of the accident so we will probably never really know what precisely happened. But given the poor road conditions it is likely she hit something unexpected in the road and lost control.
After 6-7 hours in the hospital, PedalingGal was finally allowed to leave that evening. The doctors were reluctant to release her, but we pressed for release knowing PedalingGal would be much more comfortable and get more rest in a hotel than in a crowded hospital. The fact that PedalingGuy had already booked a hotel room in town, close to the hospital, helped persuade the doctors to let us go. PedalingGal sealed the deal by being able to answer in Spanish with the correct day of the week and the date, which created a humorous moment when the surprised the doctors had to ask colleagues if she had the date correct.
We were very impressed that, before leaving for the evening, the lead doctor and his assistant personally helped guide PedalingGuy through the checkout process for the hospital, which involved quite a few steps and a good amount of paperwork. Since there were locked gates with guards, you really could not leave until you were officially checked out and could show your checkout pass. In addition, the lead doctor gave PedalingGuy his personal cell phone number and told him to call if there were any issues or questions, which was very comforting.
We checked into a hotel in Pitalito, and settled in for a long break. The doctors said it would take a couple of months for PedalingGal to fully recover. So our new plan was to take it easy, and enjoy our time in this rural corner of Colombia.
Getting to Know Pitalito, Colombia
With a population of 128,600 people, Pitalito is pretty big. It’s actually the second largest city in the southern part of Columbia. As a result, it had a bustling commercial center with lots of authentic, Colombian charm. Although the region had been working to lure visitors with its Magic Coffee Route, Pitalito was still very much off-the-beaten-path for tourists. The only other foreigners we saw while in Pitalito were a few other bicycle travelers (two traveling together from Belgium and a solo traveler from the UK) who we were able to connect with over dinner as they passed through town.
We spent the next couple of months getting to know this friendly city in Colombia’s coffee country. Here are some photos, to give a flavor of our time in Pitalito.
Something we noticed throughout our travels in Colombia was that the people of this country love to celebrate. This was especially true in Pitalito. It seemed like every week there was some sort of festival or holiday. The first week of September was particularly lively with firecrackers set off every morning at 5am, and again late in the evening. There was a barbecue picnic in front of one of the Churches. And another day the students from multiple schools put on a big parade celebrating the region’s cultural and natural heritage. Each class wore costumes and carried signs focused on a specific natural or cultural theme. It was a great way for the whole community to embrace their shared heritage.
What Comes Next
The accident and resulting time delay threw a big wrench into our plans. We agreed that it was important for PedalingGal to fully recuperate, and not to rush the healing process. However, that meant we would need to take at least a couple of months off the bikes, so PedalingGal’s bones and bruises could properly mend, and she could fully recover from the concussion.
But a two-month cycling break was going to completely throw off our timing for cycling through South America with decent weather. One of the big constraints for a bike trip spanning such long distances is the weather window in each part of the trip. In Ecuador and Peru the mountain passes are challenging even under optimal conditions, but can be especially muddy, difficult and unpleasant during the rainy season. In other places like the far South (in Patagonia), snow, cold temperatures and strong winds can make cycling unpleasant or even dangerous during winter months.
We were now faced with the prospect of having to wait in Colombia for nine months to hit the next good weather window - to avoid the rainy season in both Ecuador and Peru and give us enough time to get to Southern Argentina (about 6,000 miles/9,600 km away) before winter.
In addition, we had visa constraints. Our visas in Colombia were only valid for another two months. Since we already had extended them once, there would be no further extensions. We would have to be out of Colombia in 60 days. That was not enough time to recuperate and make it to the border by bicycle.
We never seriously considered abandoning our goal of completing our Alaska to Patagonia journey. However, it wasn’t immediately clear how to proceed given the logistical challenges.
In the end, we decided to fly to Buenos Aires, Argentina. That would get us out of Colombia before our visas expired. Plus, we had always looked forward to the possibility of spending some time in Buenos Aires - so that was an added bonus.
Once PedalingGal’s injuries heal, we will then either return to Colombia and restart our trip going south, or flip-flop and restart in Ushuaia, Argentina (at the tip of South America) going north. If we restart in Ushuaia, then we will complete the trip by cycling back to Colombia. Doing a flip-flop and restarting in Ushuaia would give us the opportunity to begin cycling about six months sooner than if we restart in Colombia going south. We still haven’t completely decided on the best plan, but are leaning toward the flip-flop in order to get back on the bikes sooner.
Our blog may be quiet for the next couple of months, but before long we’ll be back in the saddle, once again reporting about our very long quest to cycle the length of the Americas. Stay tuned. (If you’re not already on our mailing list, and would like to get an email each time we post a blog, click here to sign up.)
Many Wonderful Colombians
We really wanted to acknowledge all the wonderful Colombians who provided such vital help during the accident, at the hospital, and with the recovery in Pitalito. We won’t give names, but when we had an urgent need to rely on other people they were there for us, and we couldn’t be more grateful. The critical assistance at the accident site from many people, all the wonderful ambulance and hospital staff, help transporting our bikes and keeping them safe for us, help getting our bikes and gear back to us in Pitalito after the accident, and much kindness by the staff of the Hostal Ullumbe were all very much appreciated. Colombians are really wonderful people and we are very thankful.