San Francisco to Ushuaia in an 87 4Runner.
- Thread starter defrag4
- Start date
VanIsle_Greg
I think I need a bigger truck!
Great stuff!
defrag4
Road Warrior
The 4Runner led the charge tracing through the sinewy backroads of El Cocuy National Park. Due to the consistent rainfall around this time of year, the unpaved road had transformed from nicely packed dirt to slick snotty mud. I had to use 4x4 a few times to make it up the inclines.
Traveling with our good buddy Nacho is kinda like hiking with a fat girl. Sure, sometimes you gotta stop and help her up the hills but... she always has the best snacks!
We scoped out a flat spot of land in the mountainside and excitedly setup camp. Coming off weeks of insane paperwork, expensive hotels, flights, giant cities, and a general overload of "the real world". We all needed some time to decompress, reflect, and re-align our chakras in good ol' mother nature.
I do not think we could have picked a more beautiful place to do it. I stepped out of the truck into a fairytale scene. We were parked 2000 feet above an expansive deep green valley, dotted with ancient stone corrals, and bisected by a raging river cascading over giant boulders below.
Next door to our campsite was a small mountain cabin. Brad and I went over to investigate. It was there where we found the owners insanely cute daughter, Jenny, wandering around with her dolly "Nina"
Jenny introduced us to her mother who agreed to let us camp for the whopping price of $2/per day. The family piped spring water down from the mountain for the site and even had a nice little shower if someone felt brave enough. Only the set of icicles hanging off the showerhead to deter you.
We spent the next few days camping out, exploring, acclimating ourselves to the 13,000 foot altitude, eating like kings, and generally loving life. To steal a line from my friends Life Remotely, THIS IS WHY WE OVERLAND.
Jenny was very intrigued by these milk faces in their big trucks sleeping outside her cabin and came over to talk from time to time.
My poor attempt at child interaction. I am not good at kid.
I am good at scaring them off though, Jenny sneaks off under the barb wire fence to her cabin.
Feeling properly acclimated we started a gameplan to backpack some of the parks trails.
Brad and I were thinking big. We had read about a massive 7-day loop hike that took us out to the most remote parts of the already <em>extremely</em> remote park. It was a lofty goal but we figured we could do it. Hell we are men, aren't we!?
To confirm our manliness, we both acknowledged and then completely ignored the fact that this was the absolute worst possible time of year to attempt this hike. Rain, sleet, snow, and well-below freezing temperatures are expected.
Our ever encouraging ladies, whom would be accompanying us on our death hike, remained silent but gave us the usual "As long as you get us out alive..." look that both Brad and myself have become accustomed to at this point in our relationships.
Decision made. We loaded our packs with every scrap of food we could scrounge and went to sleep. Dreams of summiting "Pan de Azucar mountain" bouncing inside my head.
Pan de Azucar (Sugar Loaf mountain) and the Devils Pulpit.
We were up with the roosters the next morning, dressed ourselves in every stitch of warm clothing we had, and hit the trail.
We soon found ourselves dropping into the "Valley of Frailejones". A large valley jammed to the gills with a funny looking shrub that is native to the high Paramo region of the Andes. Frailejones translates to "big monk" as the plant sort of resembles a humble monk in his robes. You be the judge...
We hiked on for a few more hours enjoying a beautiful sunny day. My GPS indicated we only had 1.5 miles to go before the summit of the first pass. Looking at the height of the pass and comparing our current elevation, I realized we were about to do some damn serious climbing. 2000Ft in 1.5 miles. As we rounded the bend our eyes met a hardcore series of switchbacks leading up and out of sight. The trail evaporated into the clouds near the top of the mountain. Oh well, Here goes nothing.
We began the climb in high spirits.
As we progressed, we waved goodbye to the sun who went to hide behind the clouds. Without the sun, the temperature immediately began to plummet. We donned our beanies, gloves, and pressed on. GONNA TAKE MORE THAN A LITTLE COLD TO STOP US!
annnd then the rain started... We zipped up our rain-jackets and scoffed at mother nature as we continued our trek up the mountainside. WATERPROOF TECHNOLOGY IN YO FACE NATURE!
I am not sure why I do it... making fun of mother nature is always a rookie mistake. Somewhere around 1/2 way up the mountain my socks soaked through and I realized I couldn't feel my toes. I had also lost my gloves at some point and shoved my hands deep inside my pockets to ward off frostbite.
The upside and occasional downside of hanging out with seasoned travelers is that we don't like to complain, nor do we like to give up. From the silence in the group I could tell we were all pretty miserable. But we ignored our bodies cries to stop and trudged our way up the mountain.
We finally reach the top of the pass. It had stopped raining!!!
annnnd... started to snow.
Freezing cold we all huddled together behind a small summit sign trying to block the freezing snow/wind whipping around the mountain top. We all knew what each other was thinking as we looked down the next part of the trail leading into a swirling pit of gray despair. 7 days of this crap? No way! But who would be the first to say it?
"Well.... We got a decision to make here folks."
We all instantly agreed "to hell with this!" and our mood immediately got 1000x times lighter. We even managed a smile on top of that miserable mountain.
Screw this! I'm going home. Freezing cold at 14,469 feet.
We bounded like antelopes back down the mountain, carried by thoughts of warm clothes and a hot meal.
As we all huddled warmly into Nacho that night we discussed our decision to turn back. It was hard for any of us to have regrets as we sipped hot cocoa under a thick set of blankets enjoying the luxuriousness that is "The Nacho". However, we all vowed to return to the mountain soon for another challenge.
Traveling with our good buddy Nacho is kinda like hiking with a fat girl. Sure, sometimes you gotta stop and help her up the hills but... she always has the best snacks!
We scoped out a flat spot of land in the mountainside and excitedly setup camp. Coming off weeks of insane paperwork, expensive hotels, flights, giant cities, and a general overload of "the real world". We all needed some time to decompress, reflect, and re-align our chakras in good ol' mother nature.
I do not think we could have picked a more beautiful place to do it. I stepped out of the truck into a fairytale scene. We were parked 2000 feet above an expansive deep green valley, dotted with ancient stone corrals, and bisected by a raging river cascading over giant boulders below.
Next door to our campsite was a small mountain cabin. Brad and I went over to investigate. It was there where we found the owners insanely cute daughter, Jenny, wandering around with her dolly "Nina"
Jenny introduced us to her mother who agreed to let us camp for the whopping price of $2/per day. The family piped spring water down from the mountain for the site and even had a nice little shower if someone felt brave enough. Only the set of icicles hanging off the showerhead to deter you.
We spent the next few days camping out, exploring, acclimating ourselves to the 13,000 foot altitude, eating like kings, and generally loving life. To steal a line from my friends Life Remotely, THIS IS WHY WE OVERLAND.
Jenny was very intrigued by these milk faces in their big trucks sleeping outside her cabin and came over to talk from time to time.
My poor attempt at child interaction. I am not good at kid.
I am good at scaring them off though, Jenny sneaks off under the barb wire fence to her cabin.
Feeling properly acclimated we started a gameplan to backpack some of the parks trails.
Brad and I were thinking big. We had read about a massive 7-day loop hike that took us out to the most remote parts of the already <em>extremely</em> remote park. It was a lofty goal but we figured we could do it. Hell we are men, aren't we!?
To confirm our manliness, we both acknowledged and then completely ignored the fact that this was the absolute worst possible time of year to attempt this hike. Rain, sleet, snow, and well-below freezing temperatures are expected.
Our ever encouraging ladies, whom would be accompanying us on our death hike, remained silent but gave us the usual "As long as you get us out alive..." look that both Brad and myself have become accustomed to at this point in our relationships.
Decision made. We loaded our packs with every scrap of food we could scrounge and went to sleep. Dreams of summiting "Pan de Azucar mountain" bouncing inside my head.
Pan de Azucar (Sugar Loaf mountain) and the Devils Pulpit.
We were up with the roosters the next morning, dressed ourselves in every stitch of warm clothing we had, and hit the trail.
We soon found ourselves dropping into the "Valley of Frailejones". A large valley jammed to the gills with a funny looking shrub that is native to the high Paramo region of the Andes. Frailejones translates to "big monk" as the plant sort of resembles a humble monk in his robes. You be the judge...
We hiked on for a few more hours enjoying a beautiful sunny day. My GPS indicated we only had 1.5 miles to go before the summit of the first pass. Looking at the height of the pass and comparing our current elevation, I realized we were about to do some damn serious climbing. 2000Ft in 1.5 miles. As we rounded the bend our eyes met a hardcore series of switchbacks leading up and out of sight. The trail evaporated into the clouds near the top of the mountain. Oh well, Here goes nothing.
We began the climb in high spirits.
As we progressed, we waved goodbye to the sun who went to hide behind the clouds. Without the sun, the temperature immediately began to plummet. We donned our beanies, gloves, and pressed on. GONNA TAKE MORE THAN A LITTLE COLD TO STOP US!
annnd then the rain started... We zipped up our rain-jackets and scoffed at mother nature as we continued our trek up the mountainside. WATERPROOF TECHNOLOGY IN YO FACE NATURE!
I am not sure why I do it... making fun of mother nature is always a rookie mistake. Somewhere around 1/2 way up the mountain my socks soaked through and I realized I couldn't feel my toes. I had also lost my gloves at some point and shoved my hands deep inside my pockets to ward off frostbite.
The upside and occasional downside of hanging out with seasoned travelers is that we don't like to complain, nor do we like to give up. From the silence in the group I could tell we were all pretty miserable. But we ignored our bodies cries to stop and trudged our way up the mountain.
We finally reach the top of the pass. It had stopped raining!!!
annnnd... started to snow.
Freezing cold we all huddled together behind a small summit sign trying to block the freezing snow/wind whipping around the mountain top. We all knew what each other was thinking as we looked down the next part of the trail leading into a swirling pit of gray despair. 7 days of this crap? No way! But who would be the first to say it?
"Well.... We got a decision to make here folks."
We all instantly agreed "to hell with this!" and our mood immediately got 1000x times lighter. We even managed a smile on top of that miserable mountain.
Screw this! I'm going home. Freezing cold at 14,469 feet.
We bounded like antelopes back down the mountain, carried by thoughts of warm clothes and a hot meal.
As we all huddled warmly into Nacho that night we discussed our decision to turn back. It was hard for any of us to have regrets as we sipped hot cocoa under a thick set of blankets enjoying the luxuriousness that is "The Nacho". However, we all vowed to return to the mountain soon for another challenge.
defrag4
Road Warrior
Not ones to stay down, the next morning we regrouped and relocated the trucks to another trailhead.
We found a nice little hacienda where we could camp and the host would cook us dinner, all for ~$5 each. Not bad!
We spent most of the day relaxing and drying out our camping/hiking gear, preparing to hit the trail the next morning.
It got pretty chilly that first night. The four of us huddled into the hacienda kitchen while the owner cooked up dinner. Soon enough our bellies were warmed with delicious sopa de avena (oatmeal soup).
While we devoured our food the old man regaled us with stories from his mountain. He had lived up there his entire life. We all poured over his logbook that went back years and years, crammed to the gills listing travelers from around the world.
A quick cup of coffee and some bread in the morning and we hit the trail. The old man told of us a cave up on the mountain that was a popular spot for people to camp. Once Brad and I learned the caves name is actually "Cueva del hombres" literally translated as "THE MAN CAVE". Our destination was set in stone.
We set off through a valley of rolling green pastures.
We were sandwiched between beautiful set of mountainsides that jutted straight up out of the lush pasture into stark jagged rock.
Our hike took us down into another "Valley of Frailejones" and we stared in awe again at the Dr. Seuss-esque (yes thats a word) plant life.
After an easy stroll through the valley, the climbing finally began.
Looking back down into the valley.
We eventually reached a false-summit and turned further into the mountain. Some fellow trekkers built this giant cairn here to indicate the pass. I took a moment to add another rock to the pile. My mark on El Cocuy.
We were climbing through a surreal mountain landscape. The terrain was interspersed with frailejones, slick granite flats, scree, and crystal clear alpine lakes.
I am lollygagging along as usual when I hear a happy yelp off in the distance, as I crest the top of the hill I see the cave. It was massive! You can see some scale in this shot, look for Brad and Lauren hanging out up in the cave.
Lauren and I got to setting up our tent in the cave. We had an epic view of the glaciers from our temporary home. The peak is around 17,000Ft here. We are camped at ~14,000ft.
Nice spot for a pitch
Later that night, we busted out our 2nd most important piece of overlanding gear, after the Endless Breeze of course. The travel-sized version of the children's game "Trouble"! This little piece of gear has kept us entertained for hours being stuck in the back of the truck/tent/airplane/wherever. ITS FUN GETTIN' INTO TROUBLE!
"Trouble" deathmatch completed. We huddled up for a sleep. Not sure what the temp dropped to that night. I do know my 20F down-sleeping bag was hitting its limits. No oxygen and a freezing cold butt made for a rough night of sleep.
When we unzipped the tent flap in the morning we saw just how cold it had gotten...
Hmmm... This changes our plans. We had planned to spend the day fishing and hanging around the lakes. Nature had other plans for us. None of us were properly equipped for a full-day of hanging out in the snow. We decided to pack it up and head back down the mountain.
The snow was quickly turning to ice. We were all slipping and sliding while taking down our tents.
Brad contemplating the dangers of scaling back down the side of an ice-covered mountain in our glorified tennis-shoes.
With not much choice, We ghetto-rigged up some water proof boots by wrapping our socks in old grocery bags and walked off into the snow.
A hilariously freezing cold series of falling ensued. Time and time again we busted our arses on the slippery ice. It was pretty demoralizing but Hey! we were making progress.
This is what adventure is all about!
The mountain took on an entirely new personality as well. It was dangerously beautiful.
We slipped and slided our way back down the mountain. After 3 or 4 hours we made it back to our trucks and hightailed it back to town in search of hot meals and hotter showers.
We came, We saw, We got conquered.
Until we meet again El Cocuy....
We found a nice little hacienda where we could camp and the host would cook us dinner, all for ~$5 each. Not bad!
We spent most of the day relaxing and drying out our camping/hiking gear, preparing to hit the trail the next morning.
It got pretty chilly that first night. The four of us huddled into the hacienda kitchen while the owner cooked up dinner. Soon enough our bellies were warmed with delicious sopa de avena (oatmeal soup).
While we devoured our food the old man regaled us with stories from his mountain. He had lived up there his entire life. We all poured over his logbook that went back years and years, crammed to the gills listing travelers from around the world.
A quick cup of coffee and some bread in the morning and we hit the trail. The old man told of us a cave up on the mountain that was a popular spot for people to camp. Once Brad and I learned the caves name is actually "Cueva del hombres" literally translated as "THE MAN CAVE". Our destination was set in stone.
We set off through a valley of rolling green pastures.
We were sandwiched between beautiful set of mountainsides that jutted straight up out of the lush pasture into stark jagged rock.
Our hike took us down into another "Valley of Frailejones" and we stared in awe again at the Dr. Seuss-esque (yes thats a word) plant life.
After an easy stroll through the valley, the climbing finally began.
Looking back down into the valley.
We eventually reached a false-summit and turned further into the mountain. Some fellow trekkers built this giant cairn here to indicate the pass. I took a moment to add another rock to the pile. My mark on El Cocuy.
We were climbing through a surreal mountain landscape. The terrain was interspersed with frailejones, slick granite flats, scree, and crystal clear alpine lakes.
I am lollygagging along as usual when I hear a happy yelp off in the distance, as I crest the top of the hill I see the cave. It was massive! You can see some scale in this shot, look for Brad and Lauren hanging out up in the cave.
Lauren and I got to setting up our tent in the cave. We had an epic view of the glaciers from our temporary home. The peak is around 17,000Ft here. We are camped at ~14,000ft.
Nice spot for a pitch
Later that night, we busted out our 2nd most important piece of overlanding gear, after the Endless Breeze of course. The travel-sized version of the children's game "Trouble"! This little piece of gear has kept us entertained for hours being stuck in the back of the truck/tent/airplane/wherever. ITS FUN GETTIN' INTO TROUBLE!
"Trouble" deathmatch completed. We huddled up for a sleep. Not sure what the temp dropped to that night. I do know my 20F down-sleeping bag was hitting its limits. No oxygen and a freezing cold butt made for a rough night of sleep.
When we unzipped the tent flap in the morning we saw just how cold it had gotten...
Hmmm... This changes our plans. We had planned to spend the day fishing and hanging around the lakes. Nature had other plans for us. None of us were properly equipped for a full-day of hanging out in the snow. We decided to pack it up and head back down the mountain.
The snow was quickly turning to ice. We were all slipping and sliding while taking down our tents.
Brad contemplating the dangers of scaling back down the side of an ice-covered mountain in our glorified tennis-shoes.
With not much choice, We ghetto-rigged up some water proof boots by wrapping our socks in old grocery bags and walked off into the snow.
A hilariously freezing cold series of falling ensued. Time and time again we busted our arses on the slippery ice. It was pretty demoralizing but Hey! we were making progress.
This is what adventure is all about!
The mountain took on an entirely new personality as well. It was dangerously beautiful.
We slipped and slided our way back down the mountain. After 3 or 4 hours we made it back to our trucks and hightailed it back to town in search of hot meals and hotter showers.
We came, We saw, We got conquered.
Until we meet again El Cocuy....
defrag4
Road Warrior
Leaving El Cocuy was interesting...
Our truck was secured in a nearby parking lot. I went to go pick it up one Sunday morning around 7AM, hoping the garage owner would be awake.
As I approached the garage I heard a lot of singing and revelry taking place. I figured, maybe its church?
I round the corner to the garage and find 15 guys streaming out of the bar across the street. They are singing songs and taking shots of Aguardiente (The anise-flavored Colombian liquor of choice).
The man in the middle is signing loudest of all. The crowd parts and who do I see? Why, the owner of the parking garage!
"Hello good day sir, Could I get my car please?"
"MY FRIEND, MY FRIEND, MY WONDERFUL FRIEND, YES YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CAR, BUT FIRST YOU MUST TAKE A SHOT WITH ME!"
Well... It may be 7AM on a Sunday, and I may need to drive all day through crazy mountain roads but it would be rude to refuse. Yes, I tell myself. It would be rude to refuse...
We all file back into the bar. The oldman barks at the bartender who brings him a bottle of Aguardiente, he grabs one of the random crumpled plastic shotglasses strewn about the bar and fills her up overflowing. He grabs one for himself and hands me some sort of little unpeeled fruit. (I later learned it was a "Lulo" fruit)
SALUD! He knocks it back and bites into the unpeeled fruit.
SALUD! I knock it back as well. MMMM... the taste of ether and licorice fills my throat as I bite into the fruit to dull the pain. The fruit tastes sort of like a semi-sweet miniature orange and surprisingly compliments the anise very well. That was actually pretty damn good, I think to myself.
"DO YOU LIKE IT?"
"Oh yes, very good. Thank you very much my friend. Could I get my truck please?"
"YES YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CAR BUT FIRST YOU MUST TAKE A DRINK WITH ME!"
"Haha well my friend, I have a long drive today!"
"YES BUT FIRST A DRINK!"
He lines up the crumpled glasses once more and fills them up, spilling 1/4 of the bottle in the process.
Welp... when in El Cocuy.
SALUD!
SALUD!
SALUD!
SALUD!
One drink quickly escalates into Ten.
Eventually we are all back in the street, signing to the hills and swapping stories of our travels. My new friends want to learn American curse words. I teach them some. They in turn teach me some curse words in the ancient mountain dialect of their people. I now know how to say "*******" in chibchan... They also asked if Mexico was safe. (Damn, the media even has Colombians scared haha!)
I have found there is a level of diminishing returns while drinking and speaking in a foreign languages. The more you drink, the easier the foreign words flow, in turn the better you communicate... However, if you keep drinking eventually you tip over the edge into rapid freefall and communication becomes impossible. Luckily by that point words are just details.
We are all friends and brothers under the glow of Aguardiente.
After an hour or so, I remember that Lauren was waiting at the hostel and probably wondering where the hell I am at, eventually I am able to convince the owner to release my truck. I stumble back to the hostel.
"Are you drunk!?"
"Maybe!"
"Its 8AM!"
"Ya well... I had to get the truck!"
Our truck was secured in a nearby parking lot. I went to go pick it up one Sunday morning around 7AM, hoping the garage owner would be awake.
As I approached the garage I heard a lot of singing and revelry taking place. I figured, maybe its church?
I round the corner to the garage and find 15 guys streaming out of the bar across the street. They are singing songs and taking shots of Aguardiente (The anise-flavored Colombian liquor of choice).
The man in the middle is signing loudest of all. The crowd parts and who do I see? Why, the owner of the parking garage!
"Hello good day sir, Could I get my car please?"
"MY FRIEND, MY FRIEND, MY WONDERFUL FRIEND, YES YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CAR, BUT FIRST YOU MUST TAKE A SHOT WITH ME!"
Well... It may be 7AM on a Sunday, and I may need to drive all day through crazy mountain roads but it would be rude to refuse. Yes, I tell myself. It would be rude to refuse...
We all file back into the bar. The oldman barks at the bartender who brings him a bottle of Aguardiente, he grabs one of the random crumpled plastic shotglasses strewn about the bar and fills her up overflowing. He grabs one for himself and hands me some sort of little unpeeled fruit. (I later learned it was a "Lulo" fruit)
SALUD! He knocks it back and bites into the unpeeled fruit.
SALUD! I knock it back as well. MMMM... the taste of ether and licorice fills my throat as I bite into the fruit to dull the pain. The fruit tastes sort of like a semi-sweet miniature orange and surprisingly compliments the anise very well. That was actually pretty damn good, I think to myself.
"DO YOU LIKE IT?"
"Oh yes, very good. Thank you very much my friend. Could I get my truck please?"
"YES YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CAR BUT FIRST YOU MUST TAKE A DRINK WITH ME!"
"Haha well my friend, I have a long drive today!"
"YES BUT FIRST A DRINK!"
He lines up the crumpled glasses once more and fills them up, spilling 1/4 of the bottle in the process.
Welp... when in El Cocuy.
SALUD!
SALUD!
SALUD!
SALUD!
One drink quickly escalates into Ten.
Eventually we are all back in the street, signing to the hills and swapping stories of our travels. My new friends want to learn American curse words. I teach them some. They in turn teach me some curse words in the ancient mountain dialect of their people. I now know how to say "*******" in chibchan... They also asked if Mexico was safe. (Damn, the media even has Colombians scared haha!)
I have found there is a level of diminishing returns while drinking and speaking in a foreign languages. The more you drink, the easier the foreign words flow, in turn the better you communicate... However, if you keep drinking eventually you tip over the edge into rapid freefall and communication becomes impossible. Luckily by that point words are just details.
We are all friends and brothers under the glow of Aguardiente.
After an hour or so, I remember that Lauren was waiting at the hostel and probably wondering where the hell I am at, eventually I am able to convince the owner to release my truck. I stumble back to the hostel.
"Are you drunk!?"
"Maybe!"
"Its 8AM!"
"Ya well... I had to get the truck!"
Made it to Merida Mexico fine, just got internet up and running. You and the Nacho folks were right about the taco stands... 3 of the best things I've ever eaten have been in the last 3 weeks!
When you guys come back though the Yucatan, I have about 5 taco stands to take you to if your up for it
defrag4
Road Warrior
I awake from a groggy nap in the back of the truck.
We hit the winding road. I honk at my bar friends still going hard. I wonder just how long they have been partying?
Nacho and crew are caravan'ng with us. We climb through hills and valleys. I keep ahead of Nacho a bit but always wait to make sure my underpowered brother is OK with these steep hills.
Eventually we are idling through a small town when Brad pulls over. He smells burning oil and is wondering if its me.
I get out to check. Nope, not me.
I hear a recognizable "Sigh"coming from Brad as he peers under his truck at a pool of unidentifiable fluid.
What is it?
Not sure, looks like motor oil. Its not leaking too bad though, you guys go ahead.
You sure?
Ya we will be fine! I have plenty of oil. We will see you in Villa De Leyva.
OK....
I reluctantly drive off. Good luck friend!
<em>We later learned that Nacho was in fact not fine after all. What we were examining that afternoon was Nacho's transmission grenade'ing itself. You can read more about that fun-filled adventure on his blog at http://drivenachodrive.com
Our day-long drive takes us way off into the countryside of Colombia. Some beautiful albeit desolate areas. I almost ran out of gas due to the lack of any towns out here. I killed the truck and coasted my way down the hills to save gas. Made it to the station with just under 1/4 of a gallon. I had my reserve 5-gallons but who wants to bother with all that.
The road eventually leads us to the colonial town of Villa De Leyva nestled up in the mountains. A place where Spanish tile roofs and cobble-stone streets are still king. In fact, the area was deemed a UNESCO World Heritage site to limit modifications of the town.
Villa De Leyva is a popular spot with both foreign and local tourists. After spending a few days in the town its easy to see why. We dined at some great restaurants and explored all the little alley and side-streets full of shops of all shapes and sizes.
We camped up at Hostel Renacer. One of the nicest hostels we have stayed on the trip thusfar. They had a great common spaces, a nice kitchen, and an honor-bar. What more could you ask for?
A bonus feature of the hostel was the drop-dead stop you in your tracks sunsets that occurred every night. Free of charge.
We checked out some of the sites in the town... such as
A COMPLETE KRONOSAURUS FOSSIL. Crazy Ocean beast.
AND THE WORLDS SMALLEST CHURCH... Well I don't know if its really the worlds smallest but it was pretty small.
As you can tell from our long-list of extracurricular activities most our time was doing what we do best, eating and drinking. And this town was great for that. Lots of wonderful bakeries and international cuisine.
We hit the road for Bogota after hanging around for a 5 days or so.
We hit the winding road. I honk at my bar friends still going hard. I wonder just how long they have been partying?
Nacho and crew are caravan'ng with us. We climb through hills and valleys. I keep ahead of Nacho a bit but always wait to make sure my underpowered brother is OK with these steep hills.
Eventually we are idling through a small town when Brad pulls over. He smells burning oil and is wondering if its me.
I get out to check. Nope, not me.
I hear a recognizable "Sigh"coming from Brad as he peers under his truck at a pool of unidentifiable fluid.
What is it?
Not sure, looks like motor oil. Its not leaking too bad though, you guys go ahead.
You sure?
Ya we will be fine! I have plenty of oil. We will see you in Villa De Leyva.
OK....
I reluctantly drive off. Good luck friend!
<em>We later learned that Nacho was in fact not fine after all. What we were examining that afternoon was Nacho's transmission grenade'ing itself. You can read more about that fun-filled adventure on his blog at http://drivenachodrive.com
Our day-long drive takes us way off into the countryside of Colombia. Some beautiful albeit desolate areas. I almost ran out of gas due to the lack of any towns out here. I killed the truck and coasted my way down the hills to save gas. Made it to the station with just under 1/4 of a gallon. I had my reserve 5-gallons but who wants to bother with all that.
The road eventually leads us to the colonial town of Villa De Leyva nestled up in the mountains. A place where Spanish tile roofs and cobble-stone streets are still king. In fact, the area was deemed a UNESCO World Heritage site to limit modifications of the town.
Villa De Leyva is a popular spot with both foreign and local tourists. After spending a few days in the town its easy to see why. We dined at some great restaurants and explored all the little alley and side-streets full of shops of all shapes and sizes.
We camped up at Hostel Renacer. One of the nicest hostels we have stayed on the trip thusfar. They had a great common spaces, a nice kitchen, and an honor-bar. What more could you ask for?
A bonus feature of the hostel was the drop-dead stop you in your tracks sunsets that occurred every night. Free of charge.
We checked out some of the sites in the town... such as
A COMPLETE KRONOSAURUS FOSSIL. Crazy Ocean beast.
AND THE WORLDS SMALLEST CHURCH... Well I don't know if its really the worlds smallest but it was pretty small.
As you can tell from our long-list of extracurricular activities most our time was doing what we do best, eating and drinking. And this town was great for that. Lots of wonderful bakeries and international cuisine.
We hit the road for Bogota after hanging around for a 5 days or so.
Yep I one of those......just waiting for the next mile.
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defrag4
Road Warrior
Made it to Merida Mexico fine, just got internet up and running. You and the Nacho folks were right about the taco stands... 3 of the best things I've ever eaten have been in the last 3 weeks!
When you guys come back though the Yucatan, I have about 5 taco stands to take you to if your up for it
man oh man do I miss thos Tacos. ENjoy my friend
VanIsle_Greg
I think I need a bigger truck!
AS always, interesting adventures and stories.
"Are you drunk!?"
"Maybe!"
"Its 8AM!"
"Ya well... I had to get the truck!"
Best lines yet!
"Are you drunk!?"
"Maybe!"
"Its 8AM!"
"Ya well... I had to get the truck!"
Best lines yet!