25 Dec 2013-16 Jan 2014
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| Sign: "Soaring Eagles" flying site on the mesa above Bucaramanga |
Click on a photo to enlarge it. ESC to return to blog.
Last year about this
time Mike Brand and Christel Cherry took a flying trip to Roldanillo, Colombia,
a small town in the Cauca Valley about two hours by bus north of Cali. They
came back with enthusiastic endorsements for the flying, the people and the
ease of transportation (both in getting to launch and being retrieved from XC
flights). A dozen Seattle-area pilots were impressed enough to seriously
consider joining them this year. C.J. and I were among them, but since we were
retired, we could stay longer and maybe visit some other locations in Colombia.
C.J. had once won a discount coupon for one of Richi Mantilla's tours in his home
country of Colombia so she contacted him at his flying site hostel near
Bucaramanga and arranged a stay of several days even if we had to bunk in the
dorm. Finally, we couldn’t leave Colombia without a visit to its capital, Bogotá,
but we would have to arrange that on the fly once we got to Bucaramanga since
we were using only public transportation.
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| G with all our luggage |
25 Dec, Wed – We left at 1215 (for a 1545
flt, expecting bottlenecks at the parking lot) on a sunny but cold Christmas day. [It had
been hard to pack for a destination within seven degrees of the equator when it was so cold at home.] It was a good thing we had reservations at Skyway Inn for
parking because it looked already full to bursting (as were most, if not all,
of the other lots according to signs at their entrances). [I had booked a
parking reservation pretty late when Sandstone and Extra Car were already full
for 25-26 Dec.] After a 20 min. wait the shuttle van took us to Seatac and
dropped us off. I carried the two paraglider bags rather than pay the
outrageous cart rental; but it felt less outrageous as I struggled with the
heavy, awkward bags. Next time we’ll use a cart or carry the bags on our backs.
There was almost no wait at the check-in counter and I had already paid the $70
for a second bag for me (talk about outrageous! International flights have up
to now always allowed two bags each; maybe it’s just United.) We received new UAL
frequent flyer numbers as our old ones were no longer valid. Once again we were
pre-checked by TSA so we didn’t have to remove our shoes, belts, jackets,
computers (we didn’t have a computer with us this time anyway) or toiletry liquids.
At our gate we ate some of the crackers and cheese, oranges and cookies C.J.
had brought along. Since we were flying on a narrow-bodied plane, we had to
check our carry-ons (C.J.’s rollaboard and my small duffel) but we kept our
backpacks. We flew right by Mt Rainier (on the wrong side of the plane,
unfortunately) and then between Adams and St. Helens (should have looked sooner
for Riffe Lake and Dog Mtn). Once we got to LAX (where we had a four-hour
layover) we had to wait for our bags in the jetway and then it was a fairly
long walk from Terminal 8 to Terminal 6. Eating places were not abundant and
the ones we saw didn’t look particularly interesting but we knew we needed to
eat in LAX because there were no meals served on the United/COPA flight to
Panama City. We finally chose a sausage place only to find that the sausage
sandwiches were extremely bland…and at typical airport prices. While on the
SEA-LAX flight I began to think I might have left my money belt on my desk;
when I checked my carry-ons carefully, sure enough, it wasn’t there. So I was
missing about $120 cash and the USAA debit card I was going to use for
withdrawing cash from ATMs and the extra credit card (REI Visa). Fortunately
C.J. had her USAA card. The flight to Panama City departed at 2239.
26 Dec, Thu – It was a five-and-a-half hour flight to Panama
City and we slept most of the way. After the sun rose we had some views of
mountains off the right side of the plane in Costa Rica or Panama. Then we flew
out over a bay on the Pacific side of Panama which was full of cargo ships. The
weather was warm and sunny with cu’s. We had an hour or so at the Panama City
airport and then we boarded for our 1.5 hr flight to Cali, Colombia. Cali’s
airport is small and open to the atmosphere, which was hot and
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| Sign at entrance to Roldanillo |
humid. I used a
cajero, cash machine, to get 400,000
Colombian pesos (about 200USD). We found out right away that not everyone
speaks English in Colombia. Getting a taxi was our first challenge. I went to
the right office but could not understand the questions until a young airport
official helped us arrange for a taxi to the bus terminal. The office gave me a
printed ticket that indicated that the price for the 30-min trip was $45.000
(Colombia uses the dollar sign for their pesos, and a period where we use a
comma). The bus terminal was quite a zoo and I left C.J. with the baggage while
I wandered around trying to find
Transportadora
de Occidente among the many bus companies. I finally stumbled upon it and
went back to get our stuff. Fortunately there was an elevator because we were
feeling like pack burros carrying our wings, rolling duffel and our carry-ons
in the heat. Bus fare was $38.200 for the two of us and it was worth it when we
settled into the small bus and the A/C kicked on. [I think we could have gotten
a taxi directly from the airport for $120.000, but that sounded like a lot of
money.] It was more than two hours to Roldanillo and I slept on and off along
the way but I remember getting off the highway and going through some small
towns and noticing a number of horse-drawn carts still being used. Then we made
a swing through the larger town of Zarzal, crossed the Rio Cauca and entered
Roldanillo. We got off at the main square in front of the church and I used the
map and GPS on my phone to figure out which way to go to get to Cloudbase
Colombia where we were staying. It was only a couple of blocks but C.J. was
having a difficult time with the rolling duffle on the cobblestones and curbs,
Finally, the owner of La Posada hotel graciously volunteered to pull the
unwieldy load past the Museo Rayo to Cloudbase. After checking in to our tiny
room (with our own bathroom) in the historic, thick-walled building, after a
bit of rest we went out for a walk with Mike and Christel to see where some of
the fields were that we might land in if we reached the town. [Along the way we came upon a group of men hand-digging a well. They were more than twenty feet deep already and using a hand-cranked windlass to raise and lower the guys who was digging. It was pretty amazing to see see such a primitive operation being carried out in today's usually mechanized world.] Later, Jonathan, the
proprietor of Cloudbase, gave the Seattle group a little briefing. Then we
went with Beth and Ernie and Gordon out to Waikiki, a recommended restaurant,
and puzzled out the unfamiliar menu for dinner. The narrow streets were busy
with traffic and there were lots of locals on the sidewalks, too, but it felt
like the small town it was and not like a potentially dangerous city. We
stopped at a heladeria for ice cream on the way back to CBC. We dropped into
bed by 2100 but it was still pretty hot and we did not have a fan in our room,
so sleep came slowly.
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| Some of the Seattle-area pilots at Los Tanques |
27 Dec, Fri – Up at 0700 in time for the breakfast buffet
(an extra $8.000 ea) with lots of tropical fruit, breads, juice and eggs. [Most
of the Seattle crew took advantage of the CBC breakfast prepared by Christian,
the resident Swiss cook. Mike and Christel and a few others preferred to go to
a less-expensive local bakery.] A little later we crowded into the back of an overloaded jeep for the 40 min
drive to Los Tanques launch ($7.000 ea) winding up the side of the mountains to
the northwest of Roldanillo then continuing on a dirt road to the base of
launch. We unloaded there and paid the farmer/landowner $2.000 ea and then climbed the 169 steep steps to the grassy launch. I probably could have made it with my wing although my chest pressure seemed much worse while in the Valle de Cauca; however, Owen came down and carried my pack to the top when I was only part way up. C.J. gave her pack to a local man to carry for a couple thousand pesos. We had a briefing from Jonathan about bailout fields below in Santa Rita, about possibly going north to or past La Union (or crossing the valley there to La Victoria then going south to Zarzal and then back west to Roldanillo), about the likelihood of afternoon winds blowing strongly from the west, and to land east of Roldanillo at the “trike field” if that happened. In the morning the cloudbase is usually quite low but it raises during the day; when the sky turns blue over the mountains to the west, watch out for the west winds. C.J. had various corrections to make to her gear so we were the last to launch and there were light down cycles. [Fortunately, the jeep driver waited for us to launch so we knew we could get a ride back to town if we were unable to take off.] After launching I lost track of everyone and flew out to get beyond the two sets of power lines. There was strong lift and sink – or at least it felt that way to me because I had not flown since October and my “bump tolerance” was down around zero (actual values were 840 fpm up and 960 fpm down). I managed to stay in the air and twice climb to 6400’ (from the 5600’ launch) and get as far north as the ridge separating La Union and Higueroncito, a small town to the south. Then I headed back toward the south and Roldanillo with no destination in mind, but I thought I might land at Sta. Rita since I had gotten as low as 4600’. However, I caught a thermal above the LZ I had picked out just S of SR and Frisbeed south over the ridge. At that point I decided to at least try to make the trike field along the Rol-Zarzal road. That meant heading out into the flats which were mostly covered with tall sugar cane – not a good place to have to land. “Fly the clouds”, Jonathan had said so I headed for a dark field (probably a harvested and burned cane field) and found lift under a cu forming above it. Getting back up, I flew south to the ridge just to the east of town. There was not enough lift there to get me to one of the LZs we had scoped out on the previous day (and anyway they had looked somewhat sketchy) so I flew out over the city stadium but it had a wall around it and looked pretty small (but I may have been looking at another school field and not the big stadium where Beth landed). I flew back to the north a ways to a field with some trees north of the Zarzal road. After a decent landing to the north, I had to roll under an electric fence to reach a shady spot to pack my wing. Then I still had to do a low crawl under a barbed wire fence to reach a road that led me south into town. It was somewhat more than a mile and the temperature and humidity were both high so it was a long walk. [If I had landed farther out I could have taken the bus, oh well.] I took several rests in the shade along the way and by the time I got back almost everyone was back except Owen (that’s Beth and Ernie, Christel and Mike, Gordon and several Euros who are also staying at Cloudbase Colombia). Later in the afternoon Paulo Escobar, Brian Franklin, and Jeff Slotta arrived; we’ve still to see Ray Kehl and Matt Amend. C.J. and I shared a beer (it goes on the tab for CBC) and ate some of the cheese and crackers we had brought from home for eating on the plane. Later we went out to a
pharmacia located on
the main plaza to get some metformin which I may have left with my money belt.
It was quite a production to get it with our lack of Spanish but at least I
didn’t need a prescription. The pharmacist did not have any and had to call
another store and have it delivered. Then, when I paid with a credit card, the
pharmacist kept asking me something about the card. I tried giving him my PIN
but that was too long. Finally he put a single digit in and the operation was
completed. [Later we found out that what we were asked for was how many
payments we wanted to make; we could have chosen a number up to 12.] Later we
were still hungry so we went out to the nearby “Kevin Panaderia” for a couple
pastries and a container of drinkable yogurt “oat smoothie”. At 1900 we had a
barbecue dinner prepared by Christian at the hostel; it was excellent, great
meat and delicious yucca fries among other items. Claudia, Jonathan’s partner,
had made a birthday cake for Jonathan complete with candles like miniature
Roman candles. To bed around 2200.
Here’s a link to the
Hombres Pajaro website with a description of flying in the Roldanillo area: http://hombrespajaro.blogspot.com.au/p/flying-area.html. You should be able to link from there to a
google earth download of the waypoints showing where we launched (despegues)
and landed (pistas).
28 Dec, Sat – Breakfast buffet; the bus at 0800 was a
chiva
painted in a style somewhat like jitneys in the Philippines… and equipped with a
siren. The view from the bench seats through the open sides was much better
than the closed jeep. This time I made it all the way to the top of the stairs
and slope at Los Tanques and Owen helped C.J. with her pack. Cloudbase was
still low but rising. After a few pilots launched and soared, I got antsy and
took off to the left. I didn’t feel comfortable in (what I perceived as)
turbulence so when I heard Jonathan say something about “the right” I crossed
the canyon to the southern ridge. The finger ridges seemed to collect thermals
and I climbed to over 6000 into the wispies. Then I attempted the big
transition to the next ridge to the south, but I came in lower than the ridge
and had to fly back out into the valley to get over the second set of power
lines That put me on the low ridge above Roldanillo, the one with three crosses. I
chose not to fly south to the soccer field we had scoped out but which I could
not see. Instead, I headed out to the north end of town and made a quick choice
of an overgrown field. It turned out that I was inside a compound completely
surrounded by a tall fence. Fortunately, a man came out from the vineyard to
the west and indicated that I would have to go out that way to reach a gate.
Again it was a long walk back to CBC
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| Drying beans in a small park |
but I stopped along the way to talk to a
Colombian who had lived in Chicago for many years. Then I continued past a
couple of big soccer fields (a much better choice for landing than my field)
and a man drying tree beans on the pavement of a small park. I got back to CBC
after C.J. who had landed in a field east of the stadium (
estadio). We went out
to get a blended juice (
jugo naturale)
– mango, banana, and pineapple at the Juice Palace on the main plaza. We ate
the rest of our cheese with a roll from Kevin Panaderia back at the hostel.
After a shower and some rest and writing in our journals, we took a walk to
where C.J. landed then across town to the soccer field I had spotted. On the
way back to CBC we looked for eating places without much success. Back home
Christel gave us a business card for Toscanas so we went there with Matt Amend.
It was a pretty good Italian place with decent pizza and a “gratinado” plate of
melted cheese over meats (and
piña (pineapple) in mine) and
tonieta (bacon).
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| C.J. with other international pilots |
29 Dec, Sun – Same 0800 chiva to Los Tanques but the launch is
getting busier as more pilots arrive each day for the Pre-Worlds which starts
on 6 Jan. C.J. was busy getting her picture taken with some of the
international women (Daria, Marina from RUS, Lulu from Rio, and Paula were some
names I remember). Several pilots had aborted launches today and had to
restart. I launched okay at 1040 and went N. My bump tolerance was still very
low and I climbed to 6100 only once. I was keeping an eye on Ernie who was
ahead of me until he landed below the ridge of towers between La Union and Higueroncito.
I kept working the clouds but got lower and crossed to the ridge S of Higueroncito.
where I found a gaggle of soaring birds. That only got me up high enough to
cross Morelia and land hard in an empty field. Three young boys joined me and
helped pack up my wing and carry it to the fence which we had to climb over. Just
as I got out to the road a bus came along and I got a ride back to Rolda. C.J.
was already back from having flown to the ridge above and east of town, then
landed east of the ridge in a schoolyard. She got multiple rides back to CBC. After
cleaning up, C.J. found that Nick had sent her the Alpha to edit. Before she
got started working on that, however, we went out to Flako’s for lunch – good
limonada and
moro en leche drinks and a mini pizza – with Matt, Ray, Owen and
Brian. On the way back I stopped at a
cajero
at the Davivienda Bank and withdrew $320.000 (that’s 320,000 COP, or about 166
USD). C.J.’s radio is transmitting very weakly; a google search turned up the
possibility of a blown final so I ordered a new VX-270R from HRO for $145USD
less $20 rebate from Yaesu. I checked USAA and BofA online and everything seems
to be as it should. Later we had another delicious barbeque dinner with pork
loin, chicken and beef skewers, French-fried yucca (delicious) and salad and
stuffed tomatoes. [Several pilots incl. Paulo and Gordon made it to Tulua
today, way to the south.]
30 Dec, Mon – Los Tanques again, but this time I launched
around 1030, got up in milder, i.e., less scary, thermals then crossed to the
south, got up on that ridge, crossed to the next ridge and then made the long
transition to the next ridge, a continuation of the three-crosses ridge west of
Roldanillo. I came in low on the ridge and had scratch my way up. Eventually I
got over 6000’ and pushed S of town. I had to stop and scratch again over the
second power lines and work back up to where I was high enough to look to the
south. I could see the scarred hillside with the gravel mines that someone had
noted as a no-land zone. So I turned east and aimed for a ridgetop bordering on
the Cauca plain with all its sugar cane fields and the river. Fortunately there
was a little lift on the way because there wasn’t much in the way of friendly
places to land. Back at 6000’ I continued to follow the curve of the ridge
around the town, now heading NE, then N. Low over the ridge with the hacienda
(east of town) I headed west toward some big fields where C.J. had landed on
the second day figuring I’d have to land among the cows. On the way I bumbled
into a thermal and milked it to climb again above the hacienda-topped ridge.
Spotting a Cu to the NE I crossed the Rol-Zarzal road and got under it only to
find no lift. By then I was within an easy glide of the trike LZ and landed
east into a light wind. While packing up I noticed a sharp pain in my lower
back which did not immediately go away. [Cause? Landing was gentle but I had
felt some strain while flying. However, I had landed hard the previous day.] I
stepped over the barbed wire fence and waited for a bus but an older man on a
motorbike came along and loaded me on. The ride was not comfortable and may
have exacerbated the back pain but it got me back to the main plaza for $2.000
(more than the bus would have cost). C.J. got to CBC just after me; she had
crossed the river and then come back to land on the west side. We went out and
bought a sweet roll at the bakery and ham, cheese, and mayo at a supermarket.
We came back to eat, then C.J. worked on editing the Briefings. I went to El Palacio de Jugos and had a malteada café, an awesome coffee shake
recommended by Ernie. Chris and Erin Ratay from Boulder arrived at the hostel
on their motorcycle traveling from Lima to Quito to Roldanillo then on to the
north. They had suggestions for our Africa trip. Later we went out intending to
eat at the fish restaurant and cevicheria
but it was closed. Mike and Christel did not want to eat at the steak place
next to it so we ended up at Buffalo Bill’s across from the Waikiki. I ordered mazorca ranchera which was a corn
pudding with slices of sausage on top. C.J. had crepes with pollo y championes. Back to a hot room
by 2020 (we were probably eating much earlier than the locals do), Jonathan
surprised us with an oscillating floor fan like the other rooms have. That
really helped cool the room a bit.
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| La Union neighborhood |
31 Dec, Tue, New Year’s Eve – I felt like my back needed a
day off so at 0930 C.J. and I caught the local bus to La Union and got off not
too far from the main plaza. I marked where we had stopped so we could find it
again for our trip home. [It turned out that that would not have been the right
place to get a bus back to Roldanillo anyway. Good thing we later ran into Mike
and Christel.] We noted that kiddie rides and booths were being set up at the plaza
for the celebration. Then we went over to the church which had excellent
stained glass with more familiar stories (unlike the new church in Rolda which
had indecipherable designs). Then we went west on a street decorated overhead with triangular flags; at the end, blocking the whole street, was a huge
nativity scene with live ducklings in a pond, a rooster and two guinea pigs as
well as the usual figures. We went north in a quieter but more hilly
neighborhood noting the number of paragliders in the air that showed a good
flying day. Back at the main square we walked the other direction for a couple
of blocks then back to the main plaza again. Just as we started looking for a bus
back to Rolda, Mike and Christel hailed us. They had landed north (?) of town
and met a nice family that gave them a ride back to the plaza. We hung out for
a while then decided to go for lunch. One place, right on the plaza, didn’t
have outside dining and it was hot inside so we ended up at Picolinos for a
sandwich on the streetside patio. Gordon joined us, too. Mike remembered where
to catch the bus home, a small bus terminal just off the main street east of
Picolinos. Back in Rolda, after resting for a while, around 1700 we went out to
the main plaza where we heard there was going to be a parade.
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| New Year's Eve festivities |
That wasn’t
exactly what it was, but there were dancing woodpeckers, zombies, vehicles
crammed full of celebrators, often with an effigy to be burned later, and,
mostly, there were lots of people running around with large aerosol cans of
spray foam like shaving cream. Jeff had gotten hold of a can and was liberally
dousing anyone he could get near – Ray and Paulo especially. Escaping from the
mayhem we headed back to CBC. Owen, a former EMT (?) and Rolfer offered to
check my lower spine thinking that I might have a herniated disc. Fortunately
he didn’t find anything and ibuprofen/aleve medicating seemed to reduce the
discomfort so it was probably just a soft tissue injury. Owen recommended icing
10 minutes on and ten minutes off, repeat three times. Then do the same a few
hours later. I did that before the delicious BBQ dinner while a three-piece
band – accordion, hand drum and roughened metal cylinder played with a wire
brush – serenaded the group in the main courtyard. Dinner was around 2000 and
there was quite a crowd present; who they were, I have no idea, local pilots
and friends maybe? Jonathan set off some really loud explosions out in the
street and there were lots of other fireworks. Most of the crowd had thinned
out by 2230 and around 2330 we went out to the main plaza to see what was going
on – nothing much, as it turned out. But we could see some professional-quality
fireworks looking straight east down Carrera 8. Even the church was closed up.
Back at the hostel we headed off to bed in the quiet interrupted only by a few
minutes of intense fireworks at midnight.
1 Jan 2014, Wed – We all went up to the much smaller and
flatter El Pico launch, closer to Roldanillo and launchable from south and
north. There is still a short walk uphill from the unload point but there is no
farmer to pay and no steep steps. Two wings could be set up side by side, and
occasionally someone would launch on the opposite side of the narrow ridge.
C.J. and I (and a number of others) did forward launches in the light-wind
conditions. My takeoff had me heading for the barbed wire fence on the east
side of launch but I cleared it without a problem. I didn’t find a lot of lift
at the house just below or at the power line tower just a ways farther down the
ridge, but just beyond that I got a good one and climbed high enough to cross
to the north to the next ridge – the one that ultimately connects with the
three-crosses ridge. At that point I had decided to stay back in the mountains
rather than try for lift out in the Cauca valley. Continuing on across the
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| Chris Ratay, G at trike field |
gap
to the next ridge and then on to the north, I found lift on almost every finger
and never got below 5000’ until I was past Los Tanques and approaching La
Union. I was over the peak just south of La Union when I decided not to try to
go any farther north but to try the route to La Victoria, a town east of the
Rio Cauca. Heading out along a series of towered bumps on a ridge that arcs
around the SE side of La Union I got down below 5000’. But then I found strong
lift and cloudsuck to over 7000’ I had to fly east through a cloud gap to get
clear. After tagging the last bump (wpt030) before the resort at the end of the
ridge, I headed south toward a cloud out in the flats. Again I got over 7000
and that made it possible to reach the trike field, a good LZ along the
Rol-Zarzal Rd, on a glide. [It was about 17 km to turnpoint 030 at La Union and
then 12 km back to the trike strip. I flew for about 1:34] C.J. was there
already as was Chris Ratay and another pilot. A nice gentle landing made me
realize that my back was no longer hurting. The local resident of the trike
field offered each of us a nice big mango which we gratefully accepted. Chris
got a ride on the back of scooter towing a wagon and C.J. and I got a bus to
just behind the church in town. Later we went out and bought a couple of rolls
and made sandwiches for lunch, then went out for juice and
malteada café but
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| Christel and C.J. at the Palacios des Jugos |
the
Palacio des Jugos was closed for the holiday.
We found out that Brian and Matt were planning to go to Bucaramanga on Sun 5
Jan, the same day we’re going, so we all got together with Jonathan and Claudia
and reserved seats on a bus from Cali that will pick us up in Armenia at 2200.
So instead of having to go all the way back to Cali, we can head in the right
direction to Armenia. The tickets cost $102.000 each so I went to the cash
machine and took out another $400.000 so I could pay Claudia who will pick up
the vouchers at the local bus station the next day. I would need to make
another cash machine withdrawal to pay for our room and meals at Cloudbase
Colombia. [I think it was $70.000 per day, plus breakfast $8.000 per person, plus
dinners $20.000-$25.000 per person or just over a million COP!] Disappointingly
the juice place had been closed all afternoon; we really missed getting our
juice/malteada fix. For dinner we went to El Sazan (something) the fish
restaurant. I had a shrimp ceviche and C.J. had the baked tilapia (the whole
fish) with salsa. It was served with flattened plantain (noted on the
translated menu as “downtrodden green bananas”) rice and salad. And we each had
a
limacoco, a blended drink with lime
and coconut milk (we guessed). Our party consisted of Beth, Ernie, Matt and
Brian while other Seattle pilots were next door at the meat part of the
restaurant. Back to CBC by about 2030.
2 Jan, Thu – Returned to El Pico which was in the clouds at
0930, broke around 1000 but I didn’t launch until 1148. We met Claudia Meija,
another writer for the USHPA magazine on launch. She and her husband
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| Staff writers on vacation |
were
setting up their Wills Wing T2C hang gliders. While C.J. was on launch a
dustless dust devil tried to snatch her glider and I was right there and dived
on it. People helped straighten it out and she launched. Unfortunately she had
a cravat on the left side and was unable to shake it out. She had to sidehill
land way below launch but not too far below the road between town and takeoff.
She had to climb a steep hill and wriggle under some barbed wire but got a ride
down with our bus as it was returning to Rolda. Meanwhile I forward launched
and flew out to a point over the house where I climbed a bit and then flew
straight out toward town (not following the ridge which forms a curve concave
side to the north) under a cloud and climbed high enough to fly the north spine to a
high point on the ridge, just below the power lines. There was more lift today
so I headed NE to try Jonathan’s suggestion to work the main valley. I found
lift above the Santa Rita south ridge and “Beth’s Bump”. Then I pushed E under
one cloud or above some dark fields. I had my eye on the river and the trike
field but it was slow going to the east. Eventually I crossed the Rio Cauca and
got about halfway to Zarzal (12 km from launch) along the Rol-Zar road. At that
point I realized that I didn’t know what I would do if I kept going east, so I
turned around and returned to the bridge and a weak climb. Chris Ratay passed
me there on a good line heading to Zarzal where he landed in a military
compound with no problems. I turned W and squeaked back to the trike field for
my third landing there. I thought my flight was very interesting, trying to
connect the (cloud) dots to fly XC over the flats (1:08, 6669 max alt). Bus
back to town. C.J. was back already, of course, and unhurt. We went out for a
malteada café and a
guanabana (wa
NAH ba na)
en leche blended juice.
Then we stopped at the Bancolombia ATM and took out $600.000 so we could pay
Jonathan. While we were waiting there was a funeral procession to the church.
When we got back we found out that Christel had hurt her knee on landing and
that some others had had unsatisfactory flights (probably not as unsatisfactory
as C.J., though). Speaking of injuries, there were very few in the ten days – I
can think of just the one minor twisted knee which kept Christel from flying
for the next day or two. That’s a good record and says something about how
mellow the flying is in Roldanillo. Later we had another good dinner by
Christian, this time pasta with five different sauces: meat, tuna, non-meat and
pumpkin cream, plus salad and coleslaw. Earlier I had used Jonathan’s PC to
download my tracklogs – saved to C.J.’s 16 GB thumb drive.
3 Jan, Fri – It was crowded on launch as more people showed
up, locals and pilots coming for the Pre-
 |
| C.J. aerial photo of Roldanillo (N to right) |
Worlds. There was also less room
because a
tienda was being built
maybe for selling food, etc to pilots and tandem passengers. Another launch
(Agua Panela?) was visible farther up the canyon from where we were – might be
hard for an ENA or ENB glider to make it out from there because it wasn’t any higher.
I got off at 11:11 and flew straight toward town over the house and tower under
a cloud gaining altitude. Turning north I flew to the bump below the power
lines on the next ridge but I was losing until I got there and found enough
weak lift to cross to the main ridge. Then I had to scratch to get up over the
power lines. I burbled past Los Tanques then had to scratch and climb above the
upper power lines on to a N-S ridge with a road running along its spine. That
was as high as I had been back that far (behind the upper lines) and I used the
altitude to go as far as the high point before La Union. Again I turned east at
that point and lost a lot of altitude
 |
| C.J. at El Pico launch |
heading to the pass that leads to the
curving ridge between La Union and Higueroncito. I got some cloudsuck that got
me to my max alt of 6500 but the clouds had dried up in the valley where I had
hoped to cross to La Victoria. At the highest bump with a tower on it I turned
SE and tried working dark fields on the E side of the highway. I got back up
but it wasn’t enough and I didn’t find anything on the ridge south of Morelia
so I ended up landing in the same field as day 3. This time I had no kids for
company but a woman pointed out where the gate was – a bit more of a walk but
it eliminated having to climb over a fence. A bus back to town was there
immediately. C.J. was not back before me this time but Ernie and Beth, Ray,
Jeff and Chris were all back. C.J. returned with Owen after stopping for a
juice with Chris and Erin. Later we bought a couple of rolls and a pastry and
made ham and cheese sandwiches and had a bottle of Quatro, grapefruit soda (
gaseosa). Later, after hanging around
for a while and having nothing better to do, we decided to take Mike and
Christel up on their invitation to take a taxi to Bolivar, a small town to the
south with reputedly good pizza. Then a few more folks decided to join us and
soon we had Jonathan arranging to have the chiva take us there full of
pilots. I don’t think the small pizza place was ready for such an influx of
pizza eaters but slowly the orders were processed, beers were provided (some
with a glass with a bit of lime juice in it) and people were fed. We shared a
large pizza with Brian and it was pretty good. It was a long evening, then it
was made longer when the owner thought that some pizzas had not been paid for.
Someone got that straightened out and we got back to CBC around 2210.
 |
| Local bus with paraglider graphic |
4 Jan, Sat – Breakfast included our usual scrambled eggs but
with cheese this time – all we had to do was ask. We went up to el Pico again.
I launched at 1044 to the north into a low-lift cycle. I finally got high enough
halfway to town to cross to fairly high on the three-crosses ridge. I worked
back to 6k and made the long crossing to the next ridge then had to scratch to
get up on the middle finger east of the 1st power line. Then I crossed to the
ridge out in front of Los Tanques and scratched up again to get above the N-S
ridgetop above the higher power lines. I flew to the north end of the ridge
until I was looking down again at La Union, then I turned east and flew out
along the ridge with towers on each bump hoping to go across to La Victoria.
Once again there were no clouds marking the way so I turned south and worked
toward the bare fields east of Hwy 23 (Panorama Hwy?). C.J. came in under me,
caught a low save and sky-ed out and continued to the towers before turning
south herself. I flew away from the mountains out over the dark fields below 5k
and got back up enough to continue toward Zarzal. Not high enough to make it to
the next cu, I turned back before the bridge and squeaked back to the trike LZ
where laundry showed me the wind blowing from the east. With a decent breeze in
my face, I pulled off the best landing of the trip. [Neither of us has
encountered the west wind/sea breeze that is supposed to occur in the
afternoon. Perhaps we haven’t flown late enough.] While packing up I saw C.J.
fly over heading toward the bridge. When she turned back she did not have
enough altitude to reach the trike LZ and landed on a road in the sugar cane
field. I walked up to check on her but did not see a road. She showed up a
little later and we caught the bus back to town.
Later we went out to the bus
station to check on buses to Armenia. I took out another $400.000 and later paid
Jonathan (about 1.2 million pesos!). We grabbed a couple of rolls and a pastry
at the bakery and stopped by the juice palace with Christel for fruit drinks.
Dinner was another barbecue by Christian. The Seattle group is down to one
table – six pilots, plus Beth and Ernie who ate elsewhere. [Tomorrow we are not
planning to fly but we don’t know what we are going to do if we don’t go to
Armenia early. If we do go early, we’ll have to sit on our gear until the night
bus loads up at 2200.]
5 Jan, Sun – While planning our trip to Bucaramanga, we
considered going to Armenia to catch the bus early, leaving our luggage there
and then taking another bus for the short trip to the interesting
artisan/tourist
 |
| Armenia Bus Terminal |
village of Solanto. Claudia advised us that leaving our luggage
at the bus station was probably a bad idea so we gave up on that idea. But this
morning as we were sitting around before going out for a last walk around
Roldanillo, Claudia, through Christian’s translation, suggested renting a hotel
room for the day for as little as $25.000 within a block or so of the Armenia
bus station. That seemed like a reasonable idea (even though Christian said he
hadn’t been impressed by Solanto…but it was better than just hanging out in
Rolda) so we hustled our gear together and by 1030 we were heading for the
Roldanillo bus terminal. [Until the previous day we hadn’t even known there was
a bus terminal. We had gone there to check on how often the buses ran to
Armenia – despite the usual language problems we thought we understood that
they ran every hour and cost 5.000.] We managed to get tickets for the 1100 bus
(but they were $11.200 ea). It must have been a totally forgettable ride to
Armenia because I don’t remember a bit of it, except passing Zarzal and heading
south on the Pan American Hwy which was totally the wrong direction. [At the Armenia
terminal I attempted to exchange our vouchers for tickets for the bus ride to
Buca at the Bolivariano ticket counter with no success. Finally a helpful
passerby translated for me and I found out that the tickets were in Brian’s
name and he would have to pick them up; this after a call to Claudia. No
problem – we’d be back by six for our 2200 bus departure and have plenty of
time to get tickets and a meal.] C.J. had spotted our hotel as we approached
the large bus terminal so all we had to do was schlep our gear the two blocks
to the somewhat dodgy-looking Hotel El Mirador Paisa. However the owners were
friendly and made up a room for us that was perfectly adequate; it even had a
shower so we could get cleaned up when we came back from Solanto before our
night bus trip. We would meet Brian and Matt, who were also going to Buca, at
the terminal – we had arranged a radio frequency for contact. We paid for the
room ($30.000 because it was an exterior room
 |
| Thunderstorm in Solanto |
with a window) and headed back to
the terminal where we found a long line for the bus to Solanto. That should
have been a clue about the advisability of going to Solanto on the last weekend
of the Christmas holiday. The other thing we noted was that everyone was
carrying a jacket or other warm clothing even though it was as hot as usual. We
were wearing t-shirts and shorts, also as usual. We scrambled onto the third
bus that arrived after about 45 minutes. The trip to Solanto, usually about 30
min we thought, took about three hours (!) due to stop-and-go bumper-to-bumper
traffic on the winding mountain road to the village which was already chockfull
of tourists. To turn the situation into a disaster rather than an adventure, just
as we neared the bus stop it started to rain, then pour, with thunder and
lightning. By then it was already past our turnback time so we immediately
joined the long line of people huddled as much under the eaves as possible
waiting for a bus back to Armenia. We were wet and cold and the sun had set by
the time (1900) a third bus to Armenia had room for us. This time the
stop-and-go traffic wasn’t quite as bad and we were back at the bus terminal by
2030. We found Matt and Brian right away at a restaurant with their radio out.
Brian had already taken care of the tickets; Matt helped us carry our gear back
from the hotel; no time to shower but we changed out of our wet clothes. C.J.
and I grabbed a surprisingly good dinner at the restaurant in the terminal with
a M
ilo frio and
lulo en leche to drink. Our night bus was scheduled for 2230 so we
moved to the departure gate, got our bags checked into the underdeck storage
(with an additional 20.000 charge for having too many bags). When we boarded
the large motorcoach we found it was every bit as refrigerated as Russel had
warned us. We wasted no time donning our Seattle fleece vests and jackets,
reclined our seats and got prepared to sleep our way to Bucaramanga. But first
there was a violent movie with a loud soundtrack which we had to endure while
we read. After the movie the entertainment system was shut down and we could
sleep.
6 Jan, Mon – We mostly slept until we stopped at what was
clearly designed as a bus rest area with a cafeteria, various sales areas and
an eating area all under what appeared to be a thatched roof. We bought an
over-priced yogurt drink but we weren’t really hungry in the middle of the
night. Back on the bus we slept until it got light and they turned the music
back on. Sometime later on the outskirts of Buca we were stopped at a police
checkpoint and all the men had to get out and show their IDs; they even took a
look at Matt’s paraglider. [Later we were told that the police run these
searches to find men who have gotten their
 |
| Cat and Fat Snuffs in window of "Wingover" |
girlfriends pregnant and then
skipped out. True?] When we arrived at the Bucaramanga bus station, which was
much like an airport terminal, I called Richi and asked if he could pick us up
but he said that they were busy with flying and training and we should get a taxi
to “
parapente Las Aguilas”. We needed
two taxis for the four of us and we paid 30.000 which was somewhat more than we
should have paid for the 20 minute drive. We got out at Las Aguilas which is
the launch, tandem operation and food court that is just 100 ft from Richi’s
Fly Site Hostel/Colombia Paragliding. We walked down to Richi’s and entered
through the solid, brown, metal gate where Richi met us. “Our” room wasn’t
ready because Richi had to eject the three or four guys from Alaska who were
staying in it and move their bunk beds into a much smaller room. I’m not sure
how Richi decided that we should have “Wingover”, the largest room in the
hostel, unless it’s C.J.’s influential position (he-he). In the meantime we
walked back up to Las Aguilas to check out the large, grass-covered launch, and
had a good schwarma for lunch, and later a couple of helados. Back at the
hostel we moved into our room. Then Matt, Brian and Lulu (Brazil) decided to
get a flight so we rearranged our
 |
| G waiting for soaring birds or locals |
gear and signed in at Las Aguilas where they
made a copy of my IPPI card and USHPA card. C.J. launched first in light,
left-cross conditions. Me too but I got pulled left and had to run over
someone’s lines. The ridge lift was enough to keep us up even though earlier
even some tandems had sunk out. I got to 1280m/4209’ from the 1125m/3725’
takeoff and considered going left across the gap to where I could see other
gliders soaring in front of the old Buca launch. But I stayed above Las Aguilas
and tried to stay above all the solo and tandem traffic. When C.J. started out
to the LZ, I followed and then flew a bit farther north over what looked like
swimming pools or a recreation complex. After landing (0:30) I had to rush to
pack up because the retrieve van (cost included in our room rate) was already
there. When I got back up to the hostel, I had to repack. After a shower (the
shower head itself has a heating coil inside and a double-pole switch right on
the shower wall – pretty scary but seems to work fine) we caught a ride in the
retrieve van to a mall in Buca or maybe Floridablanca and did some grocery
shopping in an Exito supermarket. Since we are staying in the hostel up on the
hill, there are no restaurants nearby so we bought some chicken and other stuff
for dinner as well as ham and cheese for lunches. Back at the hostel I used my
Opinel knife to cut up a couple of chicken thighs and the pineapple to do a
stir fry. Many of the hostel guests were doing the same thing so it was pretty
busy in the kitchen. Later I caught up on my journal.
7 Jan, Tue – Up at 0720. Breakfast was served around 0800.
Sarita had made grilled ham and cheese sandwiches on thick wheat bread. Around
1000 or so we went up to launch and watched for soaring birds (and local
pilots) Around 1100 a couple of people were getting thermal lift so we got
suited up. C.J. and I
 |
| Richi's Fly Site Hostel |
launched around 1122. I did a reverse into a good cycle
and climbed out right away to the right above the corner and power line. There
was plenty of lift but then the wind picked up and the clouds began to draw
strongly. I pulled big ears and 1/3 speedbar to avoid going into the wispies
and probably breaking the air traffic ceiling of 500m above takeoff.
(1585m/5200’ 0:36) I flew upwind of the LZ and had to do a few asym spirals to
get down – and then I was coming in at the same time as Lulu. The LZ is plenty
big enough to two or more wings to land at the same time and she is an
experienced pilot so it was no problem. [But I did lose my Opinel knife and
chapstick and bottle of sunscreen from my pants pocket. I wasn’t wearing wind
pants so there was no elastic cuff to catch things. I was taking some pic in
air and probably wiggled around enough to dislodge the pocket contents and then
they fell into the high grass when I stood up to land.] We came back to the
hostel on the retrieve van, showered and made ham and cheese sandwiches for
lunch. We signed up for Richi’s tour to Chicamocha Canyon for tomorrow (100.000
ea). We’ve got to get to an ATM sometime soon as we have only about $65.000 on
hand. The weather deteriorated later and we had some rain. Richi put some
flying videos on the flat screen TV. Later we cooked up the other two chicken
thighs with some pineapple and onion. It tasted much better than it sounds. We
went to bed early and were glad to have an extra comforter on the bed.
8 Jan, Wed – Up at 0615 for a granola, fruit and liquid
yogurt breakfast. We got going to Chicamocha
 |
| Turkeys on launch look down at Chicamocha Cyn Nat Park |
Canyon around 0730, stopped for
gas and propane (the van runs on both) and bottled water and then headed south
on the mostly two-lane highway that continues to San Gil and eventually Bogotá.
We descended to a bridge over the Rio Chicamocha at about 300m and then climbed
steeply the winding road past the entrance to the national park with its huge
tobacco leaf sculpture commemorating a revolt in Santander department. A
kilometer or so beyond that we turned onto a dirt road that lead to a large,
flat platform launch covered with blue tarps (and old paragliders). Part of the $100.000 we paid Richi was for the launch fee, the rest for guiding and
transport. Richi took off with Marie in a tandem first so he could coach some
of the new pilots in the switchy winds and rocky surface of the canyon bottom.
I took off fourth at around 1030 and found some lift out at the end of the
ridge that extended out and down from launch, the usual house thermal,
 |
| C.J.'s inflight pic of launch at Chicamocha |
but I
never got back up above takeoff. I flew along the cactus-studded hillside north
almost to the cablecar and then returned
to the LZ area, crossed the river (just so I could say I had) and set up into
the east wind perpendicular to the road that ran N-S (the usual wind was
supposed to be up canyon from the south). I had a gentle landing on a smooth
patch of ground. (0:20) C.J. had a much better flight, higher and longer. Matt
and Brian had even better flights – we had to wait for them to come down. It
was HOT down at 250m and there was no shade so we were glad when Wilfredo
showed up with the van and we could drive back up the hill with the A/C
running. We stopped in Pescadero, along the Rio Chicamocha at a water park cum
restaurant and had lunch/dinner. My churrasco was extremely tough but C.J.’s
whole tilapia was good. Side dishes were
yucca al vapor (steamed yucca root?)
and some smashed and flattened plantain (I think). We got a pitcher of limonada
with
 |
| Richi, C.J. landing at Chicamocha |
our meals. Figuring out the bill was too difficult so we just divided it x
ways and we each paid $25.000. Even though we both changed into swimsuits, the
water was too cold for me to do the water slides or swim in the pools, but C.J.
got into it. Marie and Aine said they hadn’t gotten some kind of vaccination so
they didn’t swim or go in the water either. Back at Buca (or more probably
Floridablanca) we stopped at a gas station convenience store that had a cash
machine and I withdrew $780.000 COP, ~403USD. When we got to the hostel C.J. and
I decided not to fly even though we had gotten back before 1600. We went over
to Las Aguilas and had a couple of
jugos
leche and bought a schwarma to have for dinner later. Roldanillo was a much
more convenient place to stay in terms of access to restaurants and ATMs (and I
missed the
malteada café from the Juice Palace). Richi called COPA for us and
tried to change our tickets so that we would not have to go all the way back to
Cali from Bogotá just to fly back to Bogotá to get our flight to the States. No
luck, but they told him we might be able to do it at a COPA office or at the
Bogotá airport –go there as soon as we get to the capital. Richi’s
recommendations for a place to stay in Bogotá were
 |
| Baked tilapia at the aquatic park |
Casa Platypus, a “boutique
hostel”, and Sue Candelaria (Sue, pronounced “sway” means visitor in Muisca). I
checked them out in our Lonely Planet guide and then looked at their webpages
(nice to have wi-fi everywhere we stayed!). When I tried to contact them for a
reservation I didn’t have any luck: I got some Japanese page for Platypus, and
the security form wouldn’t accept my input at the less-expensive Sue. I sent
emails to both hoping to hear back soon so we’d know where we were staying in
the city. Brian is going to Bogotá at the same time we are so we can all go to
the bus station for a night bus together. We ate the rest of the pineapple and
the schwarma for dinner and had a refrigerated Costco truffle for dessert
around 1930. C.J. started to nap and fell asleep, woke up only to change to PJs
and went right back to sleep.
 |
| Centro historico, Giron |
9 Jan, Thu – We got up around 0700
and stayed out of the way while those going back to Chicamocha got their
breakfast; then we got scrambled eggs, toast and juice. We had decided to take
a day off from flying and go to the Mercado Central in Buca, and maybe to
Giron, a nearby town with old architecture, cobblestone streets and a big
church. We convinced Marie, Aine(“on ya”)’s sister to go with us. Just as we
went out the gate a local bus came and it was going to Giron so we decided to
go with the flow. The bus route wound around the neighborhoods of Floridablanca
for a while before taking the highway to Giron. We got off in a residential
area that did not look historic at all. My phone/map app showed where we were
so we wandered in what seemed to be the right direction until we reached a main
street that had a sign pointing to the
centro historico. We crossed a foot bridge
into the old town. In the river below were four men, chest-deep in the water,
lifting shovelfuls of sand to an anchored raft. There were lots of shops and
the big church. We bought a cup/bag of mango peelings which were fun to eat but
not quite ripe. When we got to the end of the historical district we had to
figure out how to get a bus to the central market in Buca. None of us had much
Spanish and it wasn’t clear what the bus sign should say. We found a likely
spot that seemed to have buses going in the right direction. Then we tried
asking people waiting; most people ignored us, but a woman with her mother
spoke English well enough to tell us to go with them as they were going the
same place. We followed them onto the bus and then they showed us where to get
off. Even better they got off
 |
| Marie. C.J. and our local guides at Mercado Central |
and said they’d show us the Mercado Central. When
we got there, Angélica and her mother took us up to the fourth floor where
there were many places serving food. I got some nice safe fried chicken, beet
salad, squash, rice and yucca root and soup but Marie and C.J. got the
sopa
tipica which looked a lot like menudo plus another full plate of food. And a
pitcher of fruit drink. People must eat much more than we do in Colombia
because portions everywhere have been huge. After lunch (Marie paid; we owe
her) we walked through the market looking at fruit (we each had a
curuba
– what we had been calling fish-eye fruit) veggies, clothing and miscellaneous stuff. Mary bought a
hammock like ours from Ecuador. Then we walked down a pedestrian street (probably
calle 35) to Plaza Luis Galan with the Palace of Justice on one side and the no
longer used Cathedral San Laureano on the other. A little farther on we came to
the Parque Garcia Rovira which
 |
| An iguana for holiday decorations? |
had
Navidad decoracions made of lighted recycled plastic water bottles: spiral trees,
iguanas, tropical birds, polar bears and igloos. The other church we wanted to
see was also closed,
Capilla de los
Dolores. To the north of the park was the City Hall (
Alcaldia de Buca.) which had a detailed and complex Nativity scene
on its portico. We went back up to Carrera 14 to find a bus back to the
Floridablanca but that turned out to be not the right place so we walked a few
more blocks south and through a flower market in Parque Romero (as in the assassinated
archbishop?) and across the main street Calle 45 to a bus stop just outside the
central cemetery where we caught a bus to the base of our hill at the Esso
station and Tiger Market. We stopped there long enough to get some curuba, lulo
and maracuya ice cream popsicles
before walking a short ways up the hill.The bus came before we got to the end of the sidewalk and we were soon back at
the Fly Site Hostel. After a rest break C.J. and I took our wings up to launch
and flew in the afternoon ridge lift (0:30, 1349m) I thought again about going
across the canyon to the left where gliders were soaring but I didn’t want to
sink out and walk back from wherever I landed. I landed after C.J. and Aine and
others in the LZ. Dmitri, a student from AK, got his wing slightly tangled in a
tree again. After a shower at the hostel we walked a short distance up the road
to the Argentine restaurant which was closed and gated. But someone had called
ahead and made reservations so we were admitted and served an excellent meal
including crisp rounds of fried plantains with tomatoes and additional
appetizers of sliced sausages. C.J. and I shared a large cut of pork which was
tender and tasty, wine and beer ($40.000) Matt, Brian, Aine, and Marie with Hugo
from France showing up later on his motorcycle.
10 Jan, Fri – Grilled ham and
cheese sandwiches with piña and papaya. Since there was hot water on the stove
I made hot chocolate from one of the packets I had brought with me. [BTW, since
the second day at Buca when we had both had a touch of travelers’ diarrhea
we’ve been treating our water with the Steripen UV instrument.] I got an email
back from the Cranky Croc hostel in Bogota saying they had a private room with
a shared bath so I booked a reservation there. [A couple of days later we found
out why Sue Candelaria did not have room – Richi had arranged for his 14-person
Latvian tour group to stay there.] Later in the morning we took our wings up to
LA where some were already soaring and there were a few bird gaggles visible. I
waited for someone else to launch but no one did (that’s a clue!) so I took a
good cycle. But it was a fake and I had a very short (0:05) flight to the LZ.
Brian and Joe landed shortly after me. C.J. waited and caught a good climb to
over 2000m and flew for 40 minutes mostly by herself. After
 |
| The dorm at Colombia Paragliding |
packing up I left
my gear with J & B and walked to the Esso Station/Tiger Market to use the
ATM. I took out another 400.000, bought a 1.5l bottle of cold OJ and started
back up the hill. I caught the bus at the intersection of the road to the LZ.
C.J. wasn’t back but arrived 10-15 min later with Joe and Brian who had had a
long wait for the retrieve van. C.J. and I ordered a
panzarotti (calzone) for lunch and a box of “Thai” food for dinner
then went back to the hostel to stash our wings. When we got back to the food
court ready for lunch somehow the Lunch Box guy had misplaced our order so we
had a longish wait. We drank the OJ and then bought two
jugos
 |
| Amazingly fast construction of new showers at Richi's |
naturales en leche from Susi Frutti,
mora and
maracuya. After
lunch, back at the hostel my stomach was a bit unsettled so I rested for a
while [Conditions are strong at midday anyway so most solos don’t fly until
1500-1600.] Later we went over to launch and conditions were gusty. C.J. didn’t
feel like flying but I took off around 1720 and got up right away. I made a few
passes and then tried crossing the gap to the west. It turned out to be pretty
easy. There was lift in front of the big, white house that was under
construction, and near the old PG launch beyond it. I pushed out front still
climbing under clouds. As the sun began to set I had to remove my sunglasses as
I headed for the LZ. [I was plenty high enough to go back to LA and topland,
but if that didn’t work out, it might be difficult to reach the LZ.] Over the
LZ I did a couple of asymmetric spiral turn to lose altitude and landed after
several other pilots. We waited quite a while for the van but finally got back
up the hill. I got a shower and drank part of a beer before going to lie down
and read. I didn’t feel like eating any dinner.
11 Jan, Sat – Our last day at
Buca; we were planning to take another night bus to Bogotá. After breakfast
C.J. and I packed up what we could and paid for our lodging ($95.000 per night
for Wingover). We flew
 |
| Hibiscus at Colombia Paragliding |
for the last time in Colombia. There were good thermals
and I was able to cross the gap again and go as far as the boundary of our air
space at the power lines beyond the old launch. (0:30, 1480m). Aine helped me
accordion-fold my wing for travel but then the van showed up and I had to just
cram everything into my bag to get a spot. We packed in two sunk-out tandem as
well, but C.J. had just landed and would have to wait for the next run. When I
started sorting out my gear back at the hostel I was unable to find my thin,
black antenna which I had not secured in my unzipped flight deck. Fortunately
it had just fallen out on the ground nearby. When C.J. got back we ate our
mango (bought on our first night in Buca) and had ham and cheese on rolls for
lunch. Then we packed, took showers and finished packing; luckily Sarita was
not in a rush for us to get out of our room. It was 1400 and we were weren’t
expecting to get a taxi to the bus terminal until 2000 or so. Brian was also
going to Bogotá and another pilot so we would have company on the trip. Around
1700 Richi called and offered us a ride in his van with Wifredo who was taking
it to Bogotá for Richi’s tour with the Latvians. That would save us a taxi to
the bus terminal and another taxi in Bogotá to the Crank Croc but we would have
to pay for a night in a hostel in San Gil along the way.[$65.000x2 + $25.000x2
would make the cost just about a wash, but the convenience of being dropped off
at our hostel and not having to do all the transfers with our baggage might be
worth it.] Brian was up for it so we agreed to go with Wilfredo. We had a
dinner of warmed up “Thai” food and left a tip for Sarita before saying goodbye
to everyone and leaving at 1900. The drive up to Chicamocha was slow and windy
in the dark with lots of trucks. Then it was fast and windy as traffic thinned.
We reached San Gil at 2130 and Wilfredo dropped us at a big, busy hostel,
Macondo, run by an Aussie (?) friend of Richi. Our room, which we shared with
Brian, fronted on a garden area with a Jacuzzi which was filled with noisy
gringos. The noise quieted rapidly when the spa was turned off at 2300.
12 Jan, Sun – We got up at 0630 to
meet Wilfredo at 0700 but he didn’t show up until 0715 [Strangely enough,
Colombians are usually punctual; Wilfredo didn’t say so, but I think we were
asking him to leave too early. But we, especially Brian, wanted to get to
Bogotá early enough to get his tickets straightened out.] We were almost out of
town when C.J. realized that her passport in its purse was missing. Wilfredo
took us back
 |
| G outside the Cranky Croc in Bogota |
and luckily the girl at the Macondo desk had found it. We drove
through the mountains until about 0930 when Wilfredo stopped at a good roadside
restaurant – good eggs and excellent cocoa. Wilfredo had a soup that was a
specialty of the region. [
Caldo?] Then it was just a long drive to Bogotá and a
congested drive through the huge city. Wilfredo got us right to the Cranky Croc
before 1500, but wouldn’t take Brian to the airport – per Richi’s order. It was
pouring when we arrived and we got soaked carrying our gear in, but the
reception guy was very sympathetic and gave us towels to dry our hair and told
us we could come back to the desk to register later. We tried to help Brian
with canceling his Avianca flight from Cali to Bogotá but eventually he decided
that he would have to get a taxi to the airport and deal with it there. [Later
he emailed us that he was successful, which gave us hope that we could get our Aerorepublica
flight changed as well.]. From the airport Brian was going to a luxury hotel –
maybe to make up for the dorm
accommodations for the last several days in Buca.
Our room was tiny – barely big enough for a tall wardrobe, a bed and our packs
(after putting the wings under the bed). The bathroom, right outside our door,
was also tiny and shared with… (not sure how many, but there were lots of bathrooms,
some with showers and some without). Agewise we seem to be outliers on the
bell-curve of those staying at the hostel, but we later met some older guests. Still, it’s remarkably quiet, comfortable, and seems safe [We’re not going out
after dark in the city, at least not on our first night.], and reasonably
inexpensive for a capital city ($74.000 per night, about 35USD). After settling
in and changing into warm clothes, we went out to find a meal, having missed lunch.
We weren’t too optimistic because it was Sunday and we had heard that
everything is closed. But there were many small places open and after walking west to a small plaza on Av. Jimenez (Plazoleta Rosario?)
we went back to a parilla (grill?) we had passed called Que Como and shared a combination plate of chicken
 |
| Catedral Primada, Plaza Bolivar |
(pechuga), beef steak, and
chorizo sausage with small potatoes and
a corn “pancake” (
arepa) and two
fruit drinks. Refreshed, we walked south past a practicing drum corps to the
Botero Museum and then west to Bolivar Plaza fending off beggars and hucksters.
Some kind of political or social rally had been going on so there were lots of
people around plus food and souvenir vendors as well as a number of “ride the
llama photo ops” for children. Somewhat nervously we retreated to the Botero
museum but it was after 1630 and they were no longer admitting anyone. We
stopped in at the
Iglesia de La
Candelaria, and also ran into Wilfredo who must be staying nearby at Sue
Candelaria. We walked back to Av. Jimenez and went NE a bit to another plaza
(Parque de los Periodistas) with a monument to Simon Bolivar and a channeled
river running through it, then circled the block to our hostel. C.J. wasn’t
feeling well and went to bed at 1900; I lasted until 2130.
13 Jan, Mon – Up at 0720 to use
the shower quickly (the bathroom next door was out of commission and I hadn't noted that there were at least two more nearby).
 |
| G on Monserrate, Sanctuario in distance |
It was pretty chilly
overnight but the sun coming in our window via the courtyard after 0740 warmed
things up quickly. Breakfast didn’t start until 0900 or later (and was not
included in the room rate) so we asked at the reception desk and were directed
around the corner to a small restaurant associated with Hostal Casu. C.J. had
the
caldo, a broth with potatoes,
criolles, a hunk of meat and a plate of
scrambled eggs on the side. I had a good ham and cheese omelet. (It has been
fun to order food that normally is fairly expensive in the States for about
half the price in Colombia.) The weather looked to be clear so we checked with
Reception again about getting to the funicular which runs to the Monserrate
mountaintop. We walked up to the base station (although Lonely Planet had
cautioned readers to take a bus or taxi through an area that had had some robberies)
and, when we bought our tickets, C.J. correctly answered the question about our
age so that we got a geezer discount. [The Spanish lessons paid off!] There
were lots of
Navidad decoracions
scattered about the top and along the Way of the Cross – they must be quite
spectacular at night (apparently so because the funicular ride after 1800 is
much more expensive). We walked around to the viewpoints overlooking the city,
visited the
Sanctuario/iglesia and
went to the Artisan market where C.J. bought a new purse. Then I spotted a
wraparound woven poncho for C.J. that looked cool in red and that took our last $40,000.
By now (1130) what little haze there had been had burned off and we had an even
better view of the city and its surrounding mountains. The statue of Our Lady
 |
| C.J. and new wrap |
of Guadalupe on an adjacent peak was also sharply in focus. Earlier we had walked
a short distance down the pilgrims path for walking to the summit but were glad
we hadn’t tried that at 3200m above sea level. We took the funicular back down,
walked through another market which had nothing of interest, bought a couple of
rolls with our change and returned to the hostel thinking we could use up the
last of our ham and cheese. Alas, we must have left it in the fridge at Buca.
So we had a big drink of Crystal Light with ice from the freezer then I went to
talk to Reception about finding a COPA/United/Aerorepublica office. She found
several but not nearby, so we figured we might as well go directly to the
international airport where it would be most likely that English would be
spoken. I got good directions for using the Transmillenio bus line which runs
in its own lane, and the airport shuttle from the last station, but I
misinterpreted where we were supposed to start our trip (Universidad, near the Parque
de los Periodistas) and went to the wrong station (near the Museo del Oro).
Again a passerby rescued us and put us on the right bus to get us to where we
could change to the bus we should have taken in the first place. It was all a
lot of unnecessary stress. Anyway we took the Las Aguas bus to Universidad,
walked through the tunnel and got on the K6 bus which took us out to Portal El
Dorado where we walked through another pedestrian tunnel to another platform
where we caught the (free!) shuttle to the airport. It sounds complicated but
it’s a great (!) bus system – very fast, clean and pretty cheap (We paid only
one fare of $2800 for all that trip). In the international departures hall C.J.
spotted a COPA information desk and we got our Cali-Bogotá flight canceled.
That means we won’t have to fly or bus all the way to Cali just so we can get
on the plane to come to Bogotá. Yay, a time and money saver! We caught the
crowded shuttle back
 |
| Street pizza! |
to Portal El Dorado, bought a ticket card with 4-5 rides
on it (apparently they could not sell us a single ticket for some reason).
Transmillenio Bus J6 got us back to Universidad and we walked back into La
Candelaria to a pizza place not far from our hostel. Good, thick-crust pizza (2
slices plus two glasses of a local soda cost about $8000). We ate sitting on the
sidewalk steps which was fine except for the bold pigeon who snatched a piece
of bacon off C.J.’s pizza while she was trying to take a photo. Back at Cranky
Croc, we asked about the Salt Cathedral and the guy at the desk told us about a
guided tour to both Zipaquirá (where the Salt Cathedral is) and Guatavita (a
lake which may have been the source of the El Dorado story) – a full day for
$120.000 each. We had figured the bus out today so we could get to Zipaquirá on
our own but a tour which included our own guide, breakfast, lunch, and
admission charges sounded deluxe, so we signed up. According to the sign in the
hostel common room there was going to be a “social dinner” starting at 0730,
but when I checked later, nothing was happening so we read, journaled and
played until bedtime.
14 Jan, Tue – Up at 0630 to meet
our guide, not José but his brother Alex, at 0700 – just the two of us in
Alex’s car. We drove out of Bogotá on a road (I-50) that climbed the
hills/mountains to the northeast
 |
| Preparing arepas, Boyaca-style |
through interesting scenery. We may not have
been in the mountainous department of Boyaca when we stopped for breakfast in
La Calera but the roadside restaurant (Asaderos de Arepas, a series of eating
places under a roof but open to the street) had the Boyaca-style arepas,
thicker and more yellow than the arepas we had had elsewhere. We sat right next
to the bamboo-burning grill which kept us warm in the mountain air at 9000 ft.
In addition to the arepas, Alex ordered a local specialty for us,
agua panela which was hot sugar cane
juice with a chunk of white cheese in it. Alex had the hot chocolate with
cheese which we had read about. [We had seen signs along the roadside advertising
agua panela on the drive down to Bogotá but hadn’t been able to figure out what
it was.] C.J. didn’t find the too-sweet broth palatable but I ate mine. Alex
also ordered scrambled eggs with green onions and tomatoes for us and cups of
good hot chocolate. Colombia would rate right up at the top of any hot chocolate
list. We were stuffed when we left and got back in the car. On the road again
we
took the right fork signed “Guasca” still on I-50 (left went to Sopó where
there is a flying site; La Calera had a brown PG sign
 |
| Laguna Guatavita |
indicating a site there,
too). When we reached the town center of Guatavita we were the only tourists
and all the shops and museum were closed. The town is newly rebuilt following
an earthquake which destroyed it, and the new buildings are all white-painted
and squeaky-clean. However there was nothing much of interest to us. We took a
few photos and moved along. A few km from the village we turned right onto a
secondary road which gradually deteriorated to dirt. We were figuring that we’d
end up at a typical forest service trailhead but at the end of the road was a
big national park sign (Laguna del Cacique Guatavita) and entryway, paved
parking, flush toilets and rangers/tour guides. Alex escorted us through the
gate and told us to catch up with the tour that had already left. We walked
along the paved trail until we reached a thatched ceremonial house. The small
group with the guide was just leaving so we tagged along. Unfortunately the
guide was speaking only in Spanish and the group was moving slowly. When we
reached the trail leading to the rim we moved on ahead. The trail was fairly
steep and broke out of the jungle before we reached the rim giving us a view of
the surrounding countryside. It wasn’t really very far to the crater rim (well,
it looked like a crater rim, anyway) and a good view of the apparently circular
lake [It’s really 300 m x 200m.] We followed the trail counterclockwise around
the rim until we had a view of the cut or Opening where treasure hunters had
excavated the rim to drain the lake. They were trying to recover all the gold
jewelry that the native Muisca people had sacrificed to the god at the bottom
of the lake.
Very little was ever found – certainly not enough to pay
for the excavation! We walked to the end of the rim trail and then followed a
trail indicated by a “
salida” sign
down a way. But we chickened out when the deteriorating trail did not seem to
be going in the right direction to get back to the park entrance and Alex. We
retraced our steps, passing a ranger/policeman who radioed something about us,
and returned to where we started. Then Alex drove us back down the seven km to
the main road, turned right and continued to Sencilla passing along the
Embalse de Tomine and its dam. We
stopped on the main plaza in Sencilla long enough for Alex to buy us some
bottled water. I-50 ran into Route
 |
| Restaurant wall in Zipaquira |
55 (from Buca) and we went south until we
turned on Rt 56 to get to Zipaquirá. We stopped for lunch in town at a very
colorful (
artesianale?) restaurant
with all kinds of old tools, and other items like an armadillo, some BIG
plants, animal skins… on the walls. We had soup, and then my huge plate of
beef, potato, corn, yucca and rice arrived. C.J. had Alex cancel her order of
chicken and she shared my meat. I had a beer and C.J. had two
jugos. Once again we were stuffed! Alex
drove us to the entrance of the Catedral de Sel and left the car in a no
parking zone while he ran up to get our tickets. It was 1400 when he waved us
on and said he’d meet us at 1540. There were no English tours so we were on our
own to follow the tunnel into the mine. We passed the fourteen Stations of the
Cross – just large, lighted crosses carved out of salt, each one different,
situated at the near end of each mined-out gallery. Pushing through a turnstile
we found ourselves in a passage that ended in a locked gate. We had to
backtrack and climb over the one-way turnstile. We finally
reached the large
underground cathedral with its huge cross. I was a bit distracted with stomach
cramps but fortunately there was a bathroom, flush toilet and all, way down the
end of the farthest gallery, past all the souvenir shops and cafés. When I got
back to C.J. it was getting late but we had enough time to look at the enormous
pillars, the salt-crystal “waterfall”, a large carved
 |
| Sculpture in the floor of the salt cathedral |
nativity scene with
larger than life figures, and a sculpture on the floor resembling part of the
painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Back at the surface, Alex showed
up a little bit late and took us down through Zipaquirá where I asked him to
drive us past the main square and big church. He let us out to walk across the
square and get some photos before we got to where he was stopped and waiting
for us. Then we headed straight back to Bogotá; the route looked familiar from
our trip down with Wilfredo. Traffic wasn’t too bad; Alex said that rush hour
is from after 11700 until 2000. After settling in we went out to get a couple
of ice cream cones at the local Crepes and Waffles shop – very good ice cream
on also very good cones (coffee toffee and avenilla, maracuya yogurt and
arequipa (caramel). Then we sat in the common room where a fire was burning in
the restaurant grill and caught up on our journals and talked to some of the
other guests. I arranged for a ride to the airport with the reception guy at
2230 for our 0114 flight (seems kind of late) for only $25.000 – about the same
as a cab. Time tomorrow for another ATM withdrawal.
 |
| Gold artifact at Museo del Oro |
15 Jan, Wed – Breakfast at Casu
again then we tried to find the ATM we had used the last time when we returning
from Monserrate. We couldn’t find it but we did find another one (no lack of
ATMs in the area) and withdrew another $300.000, more than we hope we’ll need but
a cushion seemed like a good idea. [Maybe we can ask Paulo to exchange any
extra Colombian pesos we end up with.] Back at the hostel we packed up and moved
our gear to the communal kitchen not realizing that Reception meant us to put
it in the hostel restaurant kitchen which is locked. Oh well, no problems
anyway. Then we went out to visit the Museo del Oro which turned out to be free
for those over 60. There were three floors of exhibits of gold artifacts and
information. Afterward we went across the street to an artisan mall looking for
a souvenir poncho for me. I had seen them being worn by men on our night bus to
Bucaramanga but they did not seem to be a popular item in the souvenir shops
(except for ones with soccer team logos). There were some nice t-shirts
however. We walked south on Carrera 7, newly designated as a pedestrian street
(a good idea because the volume of pedestrian traffic was such that
 |
| Botero's take on the Mona Lisa |
the
sidewalks would have been seriously crowded). We went as far as Bolivar Plaza
passing the Cathedral and chapel, then E and back N to the Botero museum – full
of paintings and sculptures of rotund people (works donated to Colombia by
Botero), and some Picassos, a Dali, a Calder, Henry Moore and others. We
skipped the museum of modern art. By then we were ready for lunch so we
returned to Av. Jimenez and a middle-eastern fast food place called Schwarma
Khalifa. We got a combination plate and a couple of
jugos naturales en agua and ate on the second floor
overlooking Av. Jimenez. When we left we walked at least ten blocks north on Kr
7 with the crowd and checked out two or three more artisan malls as well as a
church,
N.S. de Las Nieves (although we don’t think it snows very often in
Bogotá). Along the street there were people performing music and puppet shows
and a group of indigenous people were walking along with drums. But many people
were
 |
| C.J. in the common room at the Croc |
dressed in suits just like in any other city. Not finding my souvenir
poncho we returned to the first artisan shop and bought a t-shirt with what
looked like a Nazca bird on the front and a happy-monkey on the back. Then we
went back to the hostel so C.J. could take some ibuprofen for her hip and foot
– too much walking. The next order of business was to get a
Frutas del Bosque crepe and ice cream
sundae “Alaska” at Crepes and Waffles. Back once again at the hostel I took a
shower and changed into travel clothes, then we hung out in the common room until
our airport ride showed up at 2130. It turned out to be Alex, the driver from
our Guatavita trip. We were at the airport shortly after 2200 but there was a
long line to stand in while United reps did security checks and checked bags.
We had to stand in another line to pay the $70USD (plus $11 tax) for our third
bag. But at least we had been in Colombia long enough that we did not have to
pay a departure tax. After clearing a perfunctory security check we stopped at
the tiny food court (three eateries) and had Burger King Whoppers. It was a
shorter than expected wait to board because we began boarding 45 minutes to an
hour before our departure. There was a Britt souvenir store across from our
gate and we were able to sample some of their chocolate-covered nuts and fruit
while we waited.
16 Jan, Thu – We slept right
through almost to Houston arriving at about 0530. It was pretty chilly in the
jetway so we knew we were out of the tropics. As usual it was a long walk to
customs and immigration and we had to move our gear through the scanners and
drop them off for transport to our Seattle flight. There were no problems and
we continued to our gate. I went out in search of breakfast because no food,
not even snacks, were offered on the United/COPA flight. There was quite a bit
of choice and I decided on Wendy’s steel-cut oatmeal combo with OJ and an
oatmeal bar. Our flight at 0912 arrived in Seattle at 1212. The air during the
flight, besides being turbulent, was crystal clear and we had great views of
the mountain states. I used my phone’s GPS a few times, until the battery got
too low, to locate ourselves. The first location was near the border of UT, CO,
and WY and we could pick out Flaming Gorge Reservoir and the Uintah Mountains. Notably,
there did not seem to be much snow anywhere in the west. Next we flew over the
Wasatch Range and Bear Lake and up near Pocatello and the Snake River Plain.
From there we could spot the Tetons and Jackson Hole (not the town) and Craters
of the Moon. We could see King Mountain clearly with the Lemhis and Beaverhead
Range in the distance. We could see the Pioneer range but could not pick out
Sun Valley. Then Hells Canyon and Wallowa Lake, the Blue Mountains, Colombia
River, Tri-Cities,
 |
| Tiger Mtn and Squak as islands in the fog |
Kiona, Saddle, E-burg, and Lakes Cle Elum, Kachess, and Keechelus. Fog on the west side of the Cascades covered the lowlands but left
Tiger, Squak and Cougar looking like islands. We could trace the I-90 corridor
peaks from Granite to Mailbox, then the Middle Fork gap to Teneriffe and Mt.
Si. We finally descended into the fog and landed to the south breaking out only
in the last hundred feet or so. Our luggage all showed up and we didn’t have to
wait too long in the cold for our ride to Skyway Inn where our car was waiting
near the office. We stopped for groceries at Costco and Fred Meyer then checked
to see if we could pick up our mail but it had been delivered already. When we
got home we found lots of downed branches, and our front door was wide open!
Nothing was missing in the house: TV, computers, my left-behind money belt with
$120 and credit cards. Whew! It wasn’t even particularly cold in the house.
This was certainly one of our most successful flying trips. C.J. said
that she had more flying hours in Colombia than she had had in all the rest of
2013 together. It was also successful in that we got to visit three very
different places in Colombia – small-town Roldanillo in the Valle de Cauca, the
mid-sized city of Bucaramanga in the Cordillera Central, and the eight-million
population capital city of Bogotá high in the eastern mountains. Another thing
that made this trip unusual was that we relied almost completely on local
transportation and never felt that we needed a rental car.
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