Neiva to ?

October 18th Nevia to ?

Only I can sit virtually on the equator and become nearly hypothermic. But more of that later. 

I set off in the morning with my end destination being a town 150 mile away called San Agustin, a nice easy day. It was a pleasant day and I was managing to average a fairly decent speed for these parts. I figured I’ having left at 8am I’d be there by 12pm. As I was cogitating this fact I figured this was slacking and would only mean much longer days if I was to get to Machu Picchu in time. I had the previous night changed my booking from the following Wednesday to the Friday, giving me two extra days, but this would still give me little time to see Quito and Lima the capital Cities of Ecuador and Peru. So enroute I decided to head instead for Ingelias, which was to be my next days destination,  making it a total of 350miles. I still wasn't totally convinced that this was the right decision but i had a few miles to go before the road divided and i had to make my final decision.

The day started well with stunning views views

I had learned my lesson about being caught out without fuel, so I filled up with 230 miles to go and had a further 70 miles worth in my jerry can. so I knew I would be ok. As it turned out the decision was made for me as I missed the turn to San Agustin, though doing a u turn was easily possible, but I decided fate must be taking a hand. Also I did like the challenge of covering the distance before nightfall. Along this road I was suddenly confronted by a biker on the opposite side of the road coming towards me and suddenly stopping. He tried conversing with me, but it was hopeless. He was on a KTM which made me think he isn’t a native, it turned out he was German doing a trip around Colombia. He was a strange fellow as he continued to talk, even though his bike straddled both lanes and there was a queue of disgruntled vehicles forming behind. I decided to wave goodbye before we caused an accident. He shouted some warning, but this is common practice and I usually ignore. Ten miles down the road I was stopped by a police checkpoint and for the first time in Columbia was asked to see my papers. The chief officer was looking perturbed and was a little frustrated that I kept responding by saying I didn't understand. I thought this was a good tactic as I thought he was after insurance documents, which I didn't have. I’d read that you needed to take out insurance when you went through customs as it was compulsory, but when I asked the importers they said no and the customs officer had not mentioned it, so I assumed this was old information. But the Officer planted the seed of doubt by his unhappiness. After 10 minutes or so he let me go, but I could tell he was unhappy.

This road became progressively less well travelled and I noticed a heavier military presence as  the road kept on climbing. It was a fun ride with its twist and turns. But as I continued to climb into the clouds it became less well kept and what once had friendly soldiers now had soldiers in sandbag bunkers with machine guns. It was then that I realised that when the Officer was referring to ‘Seguridad’ he was not meaning insurance but my security. I thought if I just kept my hands on the throttle and moving as quickly as possible I’d be fine. The road was a slow one and my progress was down to 30mph and time was getting on. I eventually hit a reasonable large town which was full of motorcycles and the worse roads in ant town that I’d been through. I did intend to get a drink, but i was so conscious of the time that I decided to plough on. I still calculated that I could be there before dark even averaging 30 mph. As I left the town the road became narrower and I did wonder where Tinks was taking me but I put my faith in her and kept following the pink line of the satnav.

With 120 miles to my destination I crossed a bridge that looked like it had had a recent rockfall and washout, as I turned a sharp right the rising road had no tarmac and was full of loose slippery gravel, mud and sand. It was quite steep and quite a challenge to hold a straight line. This went on for a couple of miles until I hit a small village where glorious tarmac was laid. At last I thought, reassured. But as soon as I left this village it was back to the rough stuff. I looked at Tinks and it said 36 miles to the next turn (this usually indicates another road). I couldn't or didn't want to believe that I had 36 miles of this rather scary worrying surface, so kept anticipating tarmac around the next corner. It soon became apparent that this road was never going to be tarmaced when I came to a stream crossing with what looked like a raging current. I was scared. This was beyond my capabilities but it seemed like I had little choice. I went for it and accelerated my way through without too much trouble. I encountered nine more stream crossings as I went up the mountain for mile after interminable mile of washed out, rock strewn un made up road. It was now just a single track with a few passing places. I began to meet heavy lorries and 4x4s coming in the opposite direction with no regard for my presence. This was perhaps the most scary as the other side of the track was 1000 of feet drops. I was high, very high and temperature was falling with every meter I climbed. I was still in my shirt and though I began to feel cold I did not want to stop to put on my jacket as the incline was too great and the surface too poor to park my bike while I pulled out my jacket. I became more proficient at knowing when to pile on the gas and when to slack off in order to deal with the rutted and dangerous surface. I even managed to cope with the oncoming traffic, holding the bike stationary while they passed. What was most worrying was my average speed, at max it was 10mph and often less and the road still kept on climbing and meandering around bend upon bend. The mileometer didn't seem to be coming down. 

I cam across a touring cyclist heading in the same direction I shouted ‘well done mate’ as he looked English and he replied ‘cheers’. I didn’t stop to chat as to be perfectly honest I’d switched to survival mode. This really was a scary road and with 9 miles to my turn it was beginning to get dark as the road eventually began to descend. Descending was easier as the bike with more speed hopped over stuff with ease, but there appeared to be more oncoming traffic which one didn't know if you were going to met around the next bend. I was really cold now and a wind had got up to mike it seem colder (it was 12 degrees). As night fell I reached the turn and tarmac, it had taken me three hours to do 36 miles. My hands and shoulders were aching from gripping the bars and holding myself tense. According to my friend who took me on this adventure we still had 86 miles to my destination.

At this point I still thought that with nice flat roads I could reach my destination in a couple of hours. I stopped in the small town and put on my jacket. Upon leaving the town the road turned sharply nd started to climb again, I was climbing again and though the surface was good it was very steep sharp hairpins in the dark. After six miles of steep climbing the road turned to gravel again. I could not believe it. My thoughts really did turn to survival and any shelter would do at the moment. Fortunately the tarmac reappeared after 2 miles or so and I started to descend. My fuel indicator was on the last bar (I’d used up a lot more fuel with my bike constantly in first or second gear), though I was by now to cold to stop and refill with the jerry can - I’d fill him up only when really necessary. Eventually still 55 miles from my intended destination I could see 

the lights of a large town in the valley floor below.

I was so relieved to hit civilisation. I looked for a hotel the most luxurious I could find with safe parking for Bonito, who had served me so well today. I eventually headed back to the one I first passed which was a motel. My eyes were bloodshot and I was shivering and the two young women who greeted me eyed me suspiciously and curiously. The hotel was strange - it was separate compartments with a individual high steel gated parking area in front of your accommodation. I was so cold and tired that aesthetics did not enter my thoughts. i threw my stuff inside the basic room and just before jumping into bed to warm up I spotted a well stocked shelf with all kinds of goodies -unfortunately not the edible kind - there was an array of different types of condom and other sexual stuff the like I’ve never seen before. I jumped into bed and turned on the tv for company and the first channel that came on was a porn channel. 

Mmm which one of these is edible?

 The gates are locked, so nobody can spot your car - mine was opened in the morning

I think that my hotel is really a brothel and the strange looks from the young women now make sense. For those who are concerned with my welfare - no there was no knocking on my door and I was only awoken by the barking of stray dogs. There is no WIFI in this establishment which is why this post is late. It has been an epic day but I am now close to Ecuador and another beloved border crossing.

*Footnote I found out the next morning that I had arrived in Patos - I was so gone I'd given up taking note