Helen
We left our peaceful log cabin in San Augustin and headed back down the valley, reversing our route for 13 miles before heading south. It was a beautiful morning and it was hard to leave, I could have easily stayed another day, but it was time to go.
We cycled through a stunning valley which undulated gently, full of coffee and banana plantations, the scenery ever changing, before eventually we hit the main road once again. It climbed fairly gradually, before becoming steeper, climbing up to 2300m. It had started to rain and it felt strangely cold at the top. We descended for about 5 miles before stopping at a roadside trout farm and cafe and asking if there was any space to camp. They were friendly and said we could camp under their front driveway which was under cover. Perfect as it rained all night!
The following day we awoke to rain and took our time packing up and drinking lots of coffee in the hope it would stop, but soon realised it wasn’t going to, so set off in our waterproofs in the rain. This was the first sign the climate was changing. Before now, we’d normally encounter a storm which, if we were lucky enough to find shelter, we could escape it whilst it quickly passed over. Here, when it rained it seemed to last all day (and night!).
We were still on the main road but it was so open and quiet you could almost be tricked into thinking you were in the highlands of Scotland. The landscape opened up and revealed a huge rainforest all around us, it was incredible to cycle through. It rained all day and so we carried on cycling until we’d almost lost the light. We stopped at a roadside tienda and asked if there was anywhere nearby we could camp. She sent us next door to a disused medic hut, and we set up camp under the sheltered roof. We slept listening to the rain, the wandering hens and the occasional horse trying to knock a strange looking fruit we hadn’t yet tried off the nearby tree.
The following day it was still raining as we heading for Mocoa, our starting point for the Trampolin de La Muerte, an 80km route crossing the Andes from east to west in order for us to cross the border into Ecuador. The Trampolin de La Muerte is infamous for its switchback dirt roads crossing many rivers and streams with stunning views and dramatic drops.
We got supplies at Mocoa and found a hotel to stay in overnight. Although it was still raining it was warm and muggy as we wandered the streets in t-shirts and shorts, and I realised this would be the last time we’d be at such low altitude for some time now. From here on we’d climb up to 2700m before descending back to 2200m then up to 3200m and dropping slightly into Pasto. From there we’ll stay fairly high all the way through Ecuador and so it’ll be cooler. I hadn’t really thought about this until the other day. It’s been so easy in the warmer climate, although the heat has sometimes been relentless, we haven’t had to think about waterproofs, or having warm layers close by.
The following day we set off out of the city, and after about 5 miles we cross a bridge and turn right and the climb starts. It’s on asphalt road at first but soon changed to a track and although it’s hard work I actually prefer it, it feels more remote and rugged. Trucks and mini buses pass us occasionally but the traffic isn’t too bad. The road winds up gradually, the clouds blow in and out but it stays dry. Eventually we hit the switchbacks just as we climbed out of the cloud and into the sun, and every corner offers a different view. At one point we looked up and we could see at least 6 layers of road above us waiting to be climbed! We cross many streams and look down to the valley below getting increasingly further away. At 2000m we’re almost at the top, but it’s almost dark and so we find a lay-by with construction workers just leaving. We ask if we can camp there and they point to their shelter and say we can camp inside if we like. It’s perfect, just enough space for the tent, space to cook and two chairs.
The sun is just setting and I take pictures of the cloud sitting gently in the valley below, the mountains in full view. I walked to the other corner to take a picture and am completely blown away by the view I wasn’t expecting to see. Below me is a vast open space that seems to go on forever. There’s a huge river flowing into the horizon but nothing else, only colour. I realise it’s the Amazon basin. It’s beautiful. I take pictures and stare in awe for a few minutes before going back to tell Chris. The night flows in quickly here and we’re soon surrounded by so many stars as we sit outside eating our dinner.
The next morning we’re up early, the cloud has rolled in overnight, and we set off towards the top. We climb for 3 more miles before reaching the ‘first’ top, then descend. We stop at a small roadside cafe for coffee, which turned out to be great timing as it started to rain heavily shortly after. Again we waited to see if it would pass but it didn’t, so eventually we set off in our waterproofs. The road undulated, some steep winding climbs followed by descents. The rain stayed all day and it was hard work but beautiful. Between the clouds we saw so many waterfalls meandering through the mountains. The last 9 miles were uphill but we eventually reached the top just as the cloud was clearing and the sun once again was coming out. We had a beautiful long descent down into the Sibundoy valley.
We had a day off in Sibundoy, a small town which sits in the valley between the two mountain passes. A quiet town with stunning views, we stopped for coffee at a corner restaurant where a woman was painting the shop front in beautiful bright colours. Some towns just make you feel very calm and relaxed and this was one of them.
We chatted to the woman and she told us there were still four indigenous groups here living together in the town. It was a very holistic town, and many people still practised shamanism. They held a big festival every February where they celebrated their culture and heritage and wore colourful masks and outfits. It’s a shame we wouldn’t be around to see it.
That night the clouds cleared to reveal the amazing Ecuadorean mountains in the distance. It was stunning to see and I felt quite excited to be approaching 4000m mountains.
The next day we set off cycling towards Laguna de La Cocha, one of Colombias few natural lakes. We wind through the valley for about 10 miles before we hit the last town, Santiago, then the road winds a corner and suddenly it’s steep! And it climbs for 12 miles non stop up and over a 3250m pass. With the weight of the bike and the gradient of the hills I find it increasingly difficult as the day goes on. I was already feeling exhausted from the two day climb we’d already done and now my little legs are screaming at me! Here I have my first meltdown!
I’m thinking negative thoughts and suddenly my head gives up and so my body quickly follows. I stop on the side of the road, breathing heavily trying to catch my breath, and then the tears flow. I want to give up and throw the bike over the edge, childish thoughts racing through me while my adult brain realised there’s no way out but onwards. I focus on my breathing and try to calm down.
Chris has stopped up ahead and stays there, he must know somethings going on, but he knows it’s wise to stay where he is, he would be my easy target if he went anywhere near me at this moment. I metaphorically pick my body and mind up and carry on, although I’ve completely lost motivation. We eventually reach the top of the pass at 3200m and I’m exhausted and relieved. We put on warm clothes and start the descent down to the Laguna (which turns out to be more undulation than descent!).
At Laguna de La Cocha we cycle down to the lake which is touristy with hundreds of log cabins which are either restaurants or tiendas. It’s surprisingly quiet for a Saturday late afternoon, Chris finds a cabin for us to stay overnight in, I really don’t feel like camping and it wouldn’t be that easy to find a secluded place around here anyway. The cabin is basic but off the main road and so quiet. But it’s cold, I have all my clothes on, a very strange feeling after two months of wearing shorts and t-shirts day and night.
That night I lie in bed under the 6 woolly blankets provided, self doubt running through my mind. What if I couldn’t do this? How could I handle camping at 4000m if I couldn’t handle sleeping in a hut at 2700m? Did Chris think I was holding him back? For the first time in ages I slept in, too exhausted and cold to get up.
We eventually did get up and wandered through the town for some eggs. It was warmer and the day had a different feel to it. Small colourful boats sat in the canal leading down to the lake, waiting to take tourists out. The sun came out and immediately it warmed. The warmth changed my thoughts to more positive ones and we set off on the last climb over another 3200m pass and then a beautiful descent into Pasto.
Here we stay for a few days to rest and recover. Pasto is a quiet city, at 2600m it’s surrounded by green mountains and one active volcano, Volcan Galeras at 4300m high. We spend a few days drinking good coffee, eating healthy food and planning the next leg of our journey through Ecuador, a route through the volcanic corridor of the Andes.
