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Day 884 Monday, February 14, 2022, Tuluá to Restrepo 63km Total KM 16616
Min meters 968, Max Meters 1622,
Total Climb 821, Total Descent 396
Min Temp 23 Max Temp 39 Ave Temp 29
Magnetic Mountains
I took a wander after a cold shower and was a tad disappointed. The Plaza was quiet with none of the usual stalls selling food and drinks. My looked forward to coffee along the river was holed under the waterline by only juice stands. Nothing wrong with a juice but coffee it ain't. I did get my coffee fix at a bakery but it was nowhere near the Plaza nor the river so there was little to see.
Expecting rain at any moment I had my rainjacket with me. In the end, unnecessary. A huge and I mean HUGE dinner in a Chinese restaurant nearly had me comatose. The young girl serving me was both delighted and confused by my laughing reaction to the tray of food that came out. A small tip and some words of thanks as I left made me feel like I'd made her the happiest girl on the planet.
After dinner I had another wander but Tuluá is big, the centre is commercial and it being a Sunday evening all was closed. I went back to the hotel to update this on WiFi but as is so often the case it was non existent. Sleep time
Up at seven I popped out for a bite to eat and to figure out where to go. I had two options - one was to continue south on the highway, hot, flat, noisy, dull. The other was to turn into the mountains in the west and head for a lake that I had missed on my way north. Remi, the French bikepacker had suggested this. It was a choice between flat and mountains. Normally that's a no brainer in my world but I'm feeling the climbing these days. A good hard day of pounding the pedals and covering a big distance would feel good.
Then I saw the bad news.
A guy I knew in NL had died. While not friends we were friendly. Competitors of a type we helped each other out over the years. He was one of the very few who was friendly and showed a bit of respect to me when I arrived all those years ago. Hard as the proverbial nails he had a soft heart. The world is a less kind place today.
That hit me hard. A day like this is when I miss Hobbes the most.
I needed time to process. A long, flat, big road would let me pump out the frustration. He retired in time for lockdown and died as the world is starting to open up again. That is so unfair.
I set off heading towards Buga, Tuluá taking a while to leave - it's big.
Cycling is great for my head. Pump the legs to work out the excess tension, roar into a passing truck to do the same. And when ready, take the negativity, scrunch it up and toss it aside. Every pedal stroke leaves it further and further behind.
I didn't need to enter Buga so I didn't, stopping for a second breakfast and a chance to think. I still had both options open to me. Turn off here for the mountains or continue straight for the flat. I turned off for the mountains.
And, like that, my day started to change.
10km further I finally was on a road new to me. I was also facing into a 600 meter climb straight up. Spying a store in a huge area of trucks I pulled in for a cold drink and to top up my water. I was going to need it!
He was amazed at my load and even more amazed that I cycled up hills! When I told him we'd done the Alto de Letras his reaction was one of amazement - I didn't think he'd know it!
I set off up the hill with a smile on my face.
. Osmand suggested that the steepest parts were at the start and my legs weren't arguing with that. But Colombia was Colombia and was changing before my eyes. This is the thing about this country - it is so diverse. More mountains, new mountains, but a totally different view and perspective. It didn't even take that long for the views to kick in.
I set off again up the last part of the climb. I had been sweating ferociously since the start and am genuinely amazed at how much water I expel!
The summit when it came was a bit of a damp squib but it gave me some options. There's a lake to my west that I can cycle around if I like. There are some camping options over there. But it's a windy lake and home to lots of windsurfing schools. There's more climbing to get around but if the wind is with me.........?
The descent, when the wind wasn't trying to strangle me, was a lot of fun. Fast! Twisty! Hurtling down to a bend I saw what I thought were two touring cyclists ahead of me. I was right but they were walking. I pulled up to see if I could help. She had a puncture on her totally unsuitable road bike with teeny tiny tyres and a big load. I offered patches but the tube was apparently completely fecked. They were walking on to a small village around the bend. How long they had been pushing I have no idea but they were as happy as Larry doing so. Me? I'd be feckin' and blinding at having to push down but they didn't stop smiling. We wished each other luck and I set off again realising I hadn't asked their names or where they were from or going to. Passing the "village" I had my doubts they'd find a new tube there.
A little later I sailed past a bail out option, a roadside hotel and restaurant. I was about 15km from a town no way was I going to spend a night on the side of the road.
Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/
Min meters 968, Max Meters 1622,
Total Climb 821, Total Descent 396
Min Temp 23 Max Temp 39 Ave Temp 29
Magnetic Mountains
I took a wander after a cold shower and was a tad disappointed. The Plaza was quiet with none of the usual stalls selling food and drinks. My looked forward to coffee along the river was holed under the waterline by only juice stands. Nothing wrong with a juice but coffee it ain't. I did get my coffee fix at a bakery but it was nowhere near the Plaza nor the river so there was little to see.
Expecting rain at any moment I had my rainjacket with me. In the end, unnecessary. A huge and I mean HUGE dinner in a Chinese restaurant nearly had me comatose. The young girl serving me was both delighted and confused by my laughing reaction to the tray of food that came out. A small tip and some words of thanks as I left made me feel like I'd made her the happiest girl on the planet.
As big roads go this is certainly not the worst!
There's a thing here that I can't get my head around. Sometimes people in hotels, restaurants, cafés, bakeries can be very friendly, efficient and professional and at other times I could be invisible left standing and ignored. There's no apparent common denominator. Men can be as bad as women, young as good as old. After dinner I had another wander but Tuluá is big, the centre is commercial and it being a Sunday evening all was closed. I went back to the hotel to update this on WiFi but as is so often the case it was non existent. Sleep time
After turning off at Buga, retracing my wheelturns from a couple of months ago.
Here's the thing with dropping down to 1000 meters above sea level - it gets hot and humid. My room had a fan but no external windows. I was warm but sweated and the circulation of air from the fan chilled my skin. Inside I'm feeling like a banked coal fire but I still wake up with cold, goosebumpy skin. I was awake at 2 and again at 4:30 for that reason. Up at seven I popped out for a bite to eat and to figure out where to go. I had two options - one was to continue south on the highway, hot, flat, noisy, dull. The other was to turn into the mountains in the west and head for a lake that I had missed on my way north. Remi, the French bikepacker had suggested this. It was a choice between flat and mountains. Normally that's a no brainer in my world but I'm feeling the climbing these days. A good hard day of pounding the pedals and covering a big distance would feel good.
The Río Cauca........ Again!!
Then I saw the bad news.
A guy I knew in NL had died. While not friends we were friendly. Competitors of a type we helped each other out over the years. He was one of the very few who was friendly and showed a bit of respect to me when I arrived all those years ago. Hard as the proverbial nails he had a soft heart. The world is a less kind place today.
That hit me hard. A day like this is when I miss Hobbes the most.
I needed time to process. A long, flat, big road would let me pump out the frustration. He retired in time for lockdown and died as the world is starting to open up again. That is so unfair.
I set off heading towards Buga, Tuluá taking a while to leave - it's big.
Cycling is great for my head. Pump the legs to work out the excess tension, roar into a passing truck to do the same. And when ready, take the negativity, scrunch it up and toss it aside. Every pedal stroke leaves it further and further behind.
I didn't need to enter Buga so I didn't, stopping for a second breakfast and a chance to think. I still had both options open to me. Turn off here for the mountains or continue straight for the flat. I turned off for the mountains.
And, like that, my day started to change.
10km further I finally was on a road new to me. I was also facing into a 600 meter climb straight up. Spying a store in a huge area of trucks I pulled in for a cold drink and to top up my water. I was going to need it!
Henry and his bike. Annoyed that I took a photo while he was dealing with a trucker he demanded I take another with him. He "specialises" in leather belts and back braces for truck drivers but has all kinds of stuff for sale. And he has business cards!
I met Henry with his bike. He pushes it everywhere, 100kg of bike and stock. He has no drivetrain so couldn't pedal even if he wanted to and his brakes don't work. Brute force gets it going and stops it. He makes his living selling to truckers pushing his bike around the few points where the trucks pull in. He was amazed at my load and even more amazed that I cycled up hills! When I told him we'd done the Alto de Letras his reaction was one of amazement - I didn't think he'd know it!
I set off up the hill with a smile on my face.
Climbing up into very different country. When people describe Colombia as "diverse" they are not wrong!
A rough two laner became a new, split four laner with a good shoulder after a km or two. There were a lot of trucks (heading to Buenaventura) struggling up just like me, the odd one trying its damndest to smother me with thick, black smoke. Even without the fumes the heat from the engines was intense adding to the temperature that stubbornly sat on 39C. It's like a different country
Breaks were frequent. And warm! I sat on one wall that had been warmed by the sun. My poor bum felt very pampered. Osmand suggested that the steepest parts were at the start and my legs weren't arguing with that. But Colombia was Colombia and was changing before my eyes. This is the thing about this country - it is so diverse. More mountains, new mountains, but a totally different view and perspective. It didn't even take that long for the views to kick in.A decent road for a bike especially if going downhill!
Traffic was, in the main very respectful. Trucks pulled over to keep a full lane between me and them when they could. Lots of beeps and waves of support and one trucker heading down opposite blasted his horn several times then leaned out his window waving with one hand, his phone in the other and shouting something (which I took in a positive manner). Crazy, yes. Dangerous, yes. Inspiring, definitely.I whinge and moan and complain about climbing...... But I always appreciate it - or nearly always
My target was to hit 1740 meters and I was not too far off when I pulled in at a little restaurant called "The Cyclist's Rest" where Carlos & Christina made me most welcome. A delicious coffee, two fantastic little banana breads and a teeny tiny banana (popular with cyclists - they squash it, bite off the top and squeeze the mushed banana into their mouth) set me up for the rest of the ride. Carlos was very curious about my trip and full of information, warning me to stay away from Buenaventura (Henry did too, miming guns and stabbings!), not to be out after dark (armed men are out even in these parts) and under no circumstances wild camp. He was impressed that Osmand was directing me right - he told me that online maps often go wrong around here. A very pleasant break.I set off again up the last part of the climb. I had been sweating ferociously since the start and am genuinely amazed at how much water I expel!
The summit when it came was a bit of a damp squib but it gave me some options. There's a lake to my west that I can cycle around if I like. There are some camping options over there. But it's a windy lake and home to lots of windsurfing schools. There's more climbing to get around but if the wind is with me.........?
The lake which I considered doing a lap of. I'd have a tough headwind all the time and the lake left me cold. So I skipped it.
It wasn't! In fact it was very much against me! And, surprisingly for me, the lake didn't look like much. I wonder what it is about Colombian lakes but they're not doing it for me. I stuck with plan A and stuck to my side of the lake.The descent, when the wind wasn't trying to strangle me, was a lot of fun. Fast! Twisty! Hurtling down to a bend I saw what I thought were two touring cyclists ahead of me. I was right but they were walking. I pulled up to see if I could help. She had a puncture on her totally unsuitable road bike with teeny tiny tyres and a big load. I offered patches but the tube was apparently completely fecked. They were walking on to a small village around the bend. How long they had been pushing I have no idea but they were as happy as Larry doing so. Me? I'd be feckin' and blinding at having to push down but they didn't stop smiling. We wished each other luck and I set off again realising I hadn't asked their names or where they were from or going to. Passing the "village" I had my doubts they'd find a new tube there.
A little later I sailed past a bail out option, a roadside hotel and restaurant. I was about 15km from a town no way was I going to spend a night on the side of the road.
Back on a small road to Restrepo
I turned off the main road and zipped a bit more downhill on a narrow road lined with bright green tall grass. I had to modify my speed because of the terrible surface. A few humps and I arrived at the town of Restrepo. No coffee in the Plaza but a bakery supplied the necessary. Caffeined up, I headed for a hotel recommended by Carlos. A beautiful, old building and a decent rate including breakfast. A cold, mountain cold, shower and out to explore.
Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/
