We continued cycling southwards, away from the bigger Colombian cities of the north. With each passing mile, the landscape around us became more rural. Gradually we ascended onto higher ridges, with gorgeous views of the Magdalena River below. Small towns, off the beaten tourist path, rewarded us with tales of witches, brave heroines, celebrations of freedom, and holy blessings for travelers. But just after we cycled over the highest mountain ridge, disaster struck - requiring us to rethink all of our plans.

It was time for us to leave the high mountains, at least for a little while. A rapid descent from the Central Andean Ridge landed us in the fertile Magdalena Valley. Over the next week we cycled through Colombia’s heartland, bordered by the distant, blue-gray ridges of the Andes that rise nearly three miles into the sky. We crossed a wide, rushing river to reach Colombia’s largest inland desert, where we lost ourselves among strange, ghostly shapes. Then a final, quiet bike ride through the countryside brought us back to the shores of the fabled Magdalena River, among monuments to some the region’s strange, mythical inhabitants.