Iron Butts

After a few errands the next morning we head out of Medellin, excited at the prospect of camping again. We come across another extremely helpfull Medellinian (is that what they call someone from Medellin or did I just make that up?) who leads us out of town on his scooter after coming across a major route that's closed for road works.
The two hour ride to Rio Claro that Mr Suzuki told us about, turns out to be three very twisty hours and we arrive, tired and hungry with no food in preparation for camping. Despite it blowing our budget (but not by too much) we opt for staying in the hostal instead of camping, a decission I'm very happy about later that evening when a large and spectacular thunderstorm passes through. I'm no longer hardcore!
The hostal is really cool, much better than our Amazon expedition. It's like a big tree house with our dorm being open on two sides to the jungle. The owner is a biker himself but we don't give him too much of a chance to chat as we're keen to get into the river and cool off.
Thankfully the staff have got breakfast ready for us for 7am, despite a power cut due to the storm and by half past, we're out the door, probably our earliest start with the bikes yet. It's going to be a long day, 3 hours back to Medellin then another 8 or so to the Carribean.

Hanging out with the military boys! (Hey, nice new jacket and all)

After 5 years of riding, I've finally got the hang of going around corners which is just as well as we're on twisty roads until lunch time, passing many military guys with AK47s and sub machine guns. They assure us that there are no 'combatos' and that we're safe. We also pass a lot of guys in orange boiler suits, reparing the roads and trimming the verges. Despite the traffic in Colombia, you have to give it to them, their roads are in pretty decent nick.

When we hit the warmer, lower altitudes, I decide to stop and unzip my new flashy jacket to 'cool' mode. Mike didn't hear me beep to let him know I was stopping - ear plugs, that and my horn is a bit rubbish by all accounts - and keeps riding. When I've stripped down, I'm thinking he'll be waiting just down the road. He was. It's just that I didn't see him 'cause I was overtaking a semi trailer at the time. Riding on for about half an hour, keeping a close eye out for him, I was beginning to think that he'd finally had enough of waiting for me and had just kept riding. I did stop at some road works and ask the 'stop and go' girl whether she'd seen 'A grande moto paseo, 5-10 minutos ago', but obvioulsy my Spanglish didn't quite get the question across and she replied 'Si'. So there I am, hurtling along thinking 'Well if he isn't going to wait for me, I'd better get a move on and try to catch up.' About another 10 minutes later, looking in my mirror, I see a flustered BMW rider coming up quite fast behind me. Oops, did a get a slap on the wrists for even thinking that he would ride on without me!

The rest of the Iron Butt ride is less eventful, passing through Braham cattle (For some strange reason these are my favourite sort of cows, I don't know why) country. Despite the heat and being in the tropics, the scenery is somewhat Autumnal and it really is a pleasant ride. And managing to avoid donkeys and after a few near misses with cyclists swerving all over the road, we make it to the Carribean, after dark but in time for cerveza.
Ahh, the lovely sea side.

Salud!