That would be the Darian Gap, that nearly impenetrable section of land that separates central from south America. It’s been in the news lately as thousands of migrants are making the dangerous trek through the gap into Panama. We were feeling guilty as we flew over in a modern Boeing 737. Our only worry was about the possibility of a passenger door falling off.

A big thanks to Overland Embassy in Panama City for helping us with getting the motorcycles flown to Bogota.  We arrived on Monday morning and they took us through all the paperwork to export the motorcycles from Panama and get them ready to be flown across the gap. In the afternoon we rode to the cargo terminal at the airport and started the process to get the bikes on the plane.

Dozens of pictures were taken of each bike to document any existing scratches or dents.

Tags were added to the bikes, I’m really glad there was a sticker showing which way was up. It was interesting that we didn’t have to disconnect our batteries and they really didn’t seem to care if there was much gasoline in the tanks (there wasn’t).

Finally after about an hour or so, we rode into a huge warehouse and just left the bikes with panniers and helmets attached but we were able to keep the keys.

Pretty easy with the help of the Overland Embassy staff with us. Soon we were back at the hotel in Panama city having dinner at the poolside restaurant.

We had a flight booked for Tuesday and arrived at the airport for the 1.5 hour jump to Bogota where William from Overland Embassy was waiting for us with a car. Wow, great service, thanks guys.

The bikes arrived on Wednesday morning and William was at the hotel to pick us up at 10:00 AM to start the retrieval process which would end up taking nearly five hours. We walked back and forth between different buildings shuffling paperwork and finally arrived at Aduana where we took a seat and waited for nearly two hours for more paperwork to be processed. We didn’t have a cell signal or wifi (oh the horror) so we spent the time reading books on our phones and watching the painfully slow process unfolding before us with the other customers who all looked like they worked for commercial operations.

Finally, we had the bikes cleared for pickup so we walked to the warehouse and saw the bikes ready to go.

They seemed to be all in one piece. The next step was to get the bikes off of the loading dock. Now, back in the day in 2013, when we did this with Keith, Dave and Michael this was the process.

That’s me on my old F800GS. Nope nothing dangerous about that. However, nowadays someone came up with a much better(?) system. It involves riding the motorcycle into a cage that is attached to a forklift.

“Watch your head” they yelled out as I was already jumping onto the platform with no ramp. I needed speed to jump the bike up the step but then slam on the brakes before bashing into the end. Oh, while ducking down. Whew, I made it. I was ready to put the kickstand down and climb out when they started yelling for me to stay on the bike. What?? Just hang on! Clearly, I wasn’t too sure about that idea.

Deby had the presence of mind to make a video of the process.

We repeated the process with Deby’s bike and once again succeeded without any damage to motorcycle or person. It took a few minutes to organize the motorcycles, try to peel off the stickers and program our GPS units for the hotel before saying goodbye to our friend William who made the whole process seamless and did his best to keep it moving so we wouldn’t be there into the night. Thanks William!

We rode back to our modern airport hotel – the Hampton Inn and rode to the underground parking lot for motorcycles. Here is a picture of about half of the motorcycles parked there, crazy.

Thursday we were on our way out of Bogota. At 8,000 feet in elevation the air was blissfully cool but the sky was overcast with light drizzle as we negotiated our way out of the huge city. It took about an hour of heavy traffic, dodging trucks, cars and all manor of urban crazy driving to get onto the open road. We picked a destination that would take us about five hours, Prado. We didn’t know anything about the area or the city, we were just trying to make our way south. We didn’t anticipate that after leaving Bogota the route dropped in elevation and it started getting warmer and warmer and ….. warmer until we were down to our mesh jackets and it was HOT into the 90’s again. Ugggg.

We arrived at the Hotel Rio Proado in the early afternoon. We found them on Google but they were not on any booking sites. The website said to contact them via WhatsApp so I sent a message in Spanish and somehow we had a room booked. We probably didn’t really need a reservation since the medium sized hotel only seemed to have one other room booked besides us. We were so hot when we arrived we stripped out of our sticky (and smelly) riding gear and made it for the pool. We were cool enough by early afternoon that we decided to ride about a mile to a nearby port were we they have pongo style boats that take tourists on a tour of the lake/reservoir.

It was sort of interesting, our captain seemed like a nice guy but narrated the whole half hour tour in Spanish. I only got some of what he was saying. He caught on to that and the trip then became just a sightseeing boat ride.

I think we were supposed to be out for an hour but it was getting dark and with the language barrier our captain just turned around and headed back to port.

We were getting ready to load on the boat when Deby noticed my arm.

Wow, cool. Deby was kind of freaked out but it didn’t really itch too much so I wasn’t worried. Back at the hotel we did a closer inspection and both arms and legs were covered in bites. Since it was only areas where I had skin exposed I concluded it was bug bites and not some kind of jungle rash. Probably fleas from the dogs that visited me while I sat in a sofa on a outside patio trying to grab a small bit of wifi signal.

We decided the best course of action would be a shower to wash any buggers off before we climbed in bed. The shower, of course, was one knob and no shower head. I chased any insects on me down the drain with plenty of cold water and lots of soap. In the morning I was back to my clear skinned self.

Friday morning we found coffee and some breakfast and tried to get going before it got too hot. It didn’t work. Resigned to having another hot day we continued south trying to make progress though Colombia. I plotted a route that looked good, off of the main highway. I suspected it might not be paved and I was right. Soon we were riding down a dirt track through what felt like the jungle.

At some points we climbed and the temps cooled and we got some great pictures.

It was beautiful terrain and the road wasn’t that bad despite the potholes we were continuously dodging.

We came to a relatively new concrete bridge where we stopped for a few pictures. You can see the condition of the road ahead. Not much change from what we were on.

It had been a few days since we had any internet or cellular access. Fortunately, ahead of time we located what looked like a nice hotel just south of Neiva called Casa Bohemia. The website had nice pictures with a pool and restaurant. It also boasted an onsite brewery and winery. Ha, that sounded like our kind of place. We didn’t have a reservation so we took a chance and went anyway. At the gate was a heavily armed guard dressed in fatigues, body armor and armed with a large looking sidearm while holding an imposing looking double barrel shotgun with shorter barrels, not the hunting kind I was used to. It was hot and we were dripping in sweat as we negotiated with him to let us in the gate to get a room. After a call on his cell phone he opened the gate an let us in .

Wow, it was a nice place. For about $90 USD we had a beautiful modern room with AC and a patio. The shower had two knobs and looked promising. But first we pealed of our smelly riding gear and left it on the patio so as not to stink up the nice room and jumped in the pool. We were only in for a few minutes when someone came by to ask if she could bring us beer. Uhhh yes! I mean Si!

It was a nice change of pace after a hot day’s ride.

The internet speed was reasonable and the food was good so we thought about staying an extra day but decided against it. We were getting additional information about the upcoming border crossing into Ecuador. In true internet “intelligence” form, online stories varied widely about the requirements to get into the country due to the recent crack down on criminal gangs. I found an online WhatsApp Ecuador travelers group and started monitoring people’s real-time experiences.  That is how I met Hans. Hans runs a campground with cabins not too far South of the border. We messaged back and forth and he said he could put me on a list of approved travelers that would be entered into a government database. We decided it would be better to cross at the Ipiales border crossing on a Monday if possible. Perfect, we had a plan.

There was one more thing we wanted to do before leaving Colombia. We wanted to ride one of the most dangerous roads in Colombia, the devils trampoline. Why? Why???

Here is the description from dangerousroads.org. Click HERE to read about it.

Trampolín del Diablo is a spooky road in the Andes
Located in the Putumayo Department of Colombia, the road from Mocoa to San Francisco is one of the most dangerous roads in the world. It was built in 1930 and zigzags through the Andean mountain range. There have been numerous deaths from cars falling off.

We decided to ride to a place we found online outside of the city of Pasto which would set us up to get an early start on the diablo road. It was an eco lodge with an open style room with no walls. Just mosquito netting around the bed. Hmmmm.

The route would be paved the whole way which was nice but as usual it started out hot with lots of traffic on the winding mountain roads. There was dozens of road closures for construction. As is typical, motorcycles go to the front of the line to get a jump on traffic when the road opens. Here is Deby at the front of one of the lines.

About halfway to our destination with three hours or more to ride it started raining. The good news is that it cooled down a little into the 70’s. The bad new was that it was one of those continuous rainfalls where eventually water will seep into the most rainproof of gear. We were getting wet all over. Well, at least it was rinsing off some mud from our gear. Would it rinse off some stink??

We were riding back and forth with this guy who was a local going to visit his son near the Ecuador border. We chatted at the many construction stops.

Deby and I had our expensive KLIM rain gear that was letting water leak into. Most of the other motorcyclists had either what looked like plastic bags for rain gear or in many cases actual plastic bags.

I did learn that it’s a huge difference to be riding in the rain when the temperatures are in the 70’s than what we are used to at home where rain usually drops the temps into the 50’s or 60’s. We were damp but not really cold and our face shields didn’t tend to fog up as much. Strangely enough after a few hours we were starting to enjoy the ride again.

Thoroughly soaked we arrived at the Posada Turistica Dantayaco eco hotel outside of Mocoa. Here’s Deby in the parking lot wondering why I was goofing around taking pictures instead of getting us to our room.

We just got to our room and the rain started up in full jungle force. It looked like we would be dry in our room but otherwise pretty exposed to the elements.

We had an outdoor shower with two knobs! Kind of an ecolodge type of experience.

Mosquito netting around the bed to help stave off the dengue fever inducing mosquitos.

The second floor accommodations were accessed by some not really ADA approved stairs.

Actually, we had a fun night after a good meal at the restaurant. We sat on the outdoor patio and played cards sipping on some watered down liquid that passes for beer. The morning would be an adventure…..

Sometime in the evening between playing cards and reading books Deby had the idea to walk to a nearby tienda and look for some potato chips. She came back with a bag with an unintelligible label that might have been chips.   I broke it open and grabbed a handful of what looked like Cheetos but tasted worse, if that is possible. I spit the one out of my mouth and threw the rest over the outdoor railing. Yuk, we sealed the bag and didn’t think much about it.

In the morning while drinking coffee on the patio Deby noticed something climbing around a nearby tree. What was that? Wow, a monkey! Ok, that’s not something we see every day so we got our phones and started zooming trying to get pictures. They were little monkeys that were busy being cute and playing. Soon there were a few more, and then a few more. Then they found the Cheetos. Whey I tossed mine over the railing they didn’t fall to the jungle floor like I expected, they fell only about a foot to a metal roof below the railing. Free food for the monkeys!

First it was one cute little guy who came for the snack.

Then this mom with a baby on her back.

For some really bad reason we thought we should throw out a few more of the snack treats. That attracted more.

They were getting bold sitting on the railing to our room. Ummm, maybe this wasn’t a good idea…

I mean, they were cute but were starting to get aggressive invading our space. They started arriving by the dozens and climbing on the roof beams for our porch.

Yikes, we got a broom and started whisking them away while putting small items in our bags that they might grab as prizes. We wanted to go for breakfast but weren’t sure we could leave without a gang of them climbing all over the room. Deby made a short video of some of them on the roof next to us.

A auspicious start to our day on what is also called the Colombian Road of Death.

The road of death was awesome! Just our kind of road for some strange reason. We tried to ride it back in 2017 but they had had torrential rains and the whole area was under a state of emergency. This year was wet but just not that wet so after asking around and getting road reports we decided to go for it.

I pulled over at one point to take a screen shot of my phone, lots of turns as we climbed to over 10,000 feet on a rugged mostly one lane gravel road.

The weather cleared and the temperatures moderated as we started our accent up a steep rocky loose section with tight switchbacks. Not actually my favorite road on heavily loaded ADV motorcycles. If it would have been like that the whole way I would have regretted our decision. Eventually the road settled into a more gradual climb and smoothed out as much as could be expected.

The scenery was beyond beautiful with plush green mountains surrounding us. Here you can see the road across the valley.

At points there were guardrails, of sorts….

Here is a short helmet cam video of a typical encounter with oncoming trucks.

Nope, nothing dangerous here!

Towards the end we pulled over to celebrate our son Weston’s birthday with leftover pizza and a shared watered down beer. We were only at 9,000 feet here but it reminded of celebrating Deby’s birthday seven years ago at 14,000 feet along the road in Peru with Michael. Happy birthday Weston!

After nearly five hours of such fun, we hit pavement and headed for a place called Laguna de la Cocha. We met an American guy named Andy at the eco lodge and he recommend a hotel on the lake. We didn’t have cell service and there was no wifi at the hotel so I noted the location on my GPS and we decided to check it out. It started to rain as we rode down the long gravel road towards the lake and the hotel. We arrived and it looked like a really nice location and hotel. It also looked very busy, not a good sign for a weekend and as we found out a holiday weekend. Carnival. Nope, no rooms at the inn.

Deby was watching the bikes in the rain while I was inside trying to sweet talk ourselves into a room. Nope, not this time. I could tell she knew when I walked towards her in the busy parking lot. A lot of people were milling around and as usual, the motorcycles were attracting a lot of attention. Not knowing what to do we did the thing that is usually best to do in these types of situations… nothing.

The rain paused for a bit when these people came over with some other friends. We chatted and let one of the kids sit on Deby’s bike.

The woman spoke decent English and from somewhere pulled out a brochure for another hotel only a few hundred yards away. What? The Chalet Guamuez, ohh, sounded fancy and the brochure was beautiful.  We hung out for a while, exchanging stories and WhatsApp info before venturing on. When we arrived it looked nice enough and I walked into the reception hoping this place wouldn’t be full. Yes, they had a room. The price?? 400,000 pesos. Wow, that sounded like a lot, I mean getting towards a half million for one night? Quick conversion…. about $100 USD. Ok, we were in.

The lodge was beautiful, situated near the lake at an elevation of about 9,000 feet. It would be cool at night be we were told not to worry because someone would come in and light a fire. Awesome. Could we possibly dry out some things that have been damp for the past three days????

Probably not, as it turned out. It was a beautiful facility clearly setup of for weddings and other events.

Nice restaurant and good food, what else could we ask for.

The hotel wifi didn’t reach our room but there was a big common area with good wifi and a big TV. Hey — it was Superbowl Sunday! Could I??? Just then a group of three couples from Oregon arrived who were on a birdwatching trip and we managed to find the game on the big screen in Spanish. I brought out my iPad and was able to bring it up in English with about a one minute delay. Cool, we watched the game in Spanish and for the good parts listened a minute later to the play calling in English. It worked. We had our own little Superbowl party. We were in the eastern time zone so when the game went into overtime it was well past 10:00 and the whole group decided to call it a night. Good call.

We had a good nights sleep, before I returned to the room someone had brought hot water bottles and placed them under the thick blankets on the bed. We were toasty toasty warm all night. The dampness never went away and our riding gear and most of our clothes were still damp and I suspected were starting to grow mold, or at least smelled like it.

Ok, I’m going to stop here because as usual I rambled on too long as it is. In the next post we attempt yet another border crossing. This time into Ecuador. Did Hans do the trick entering us into the system? Would they let us in? How long would it take? Would our clothes ever get dry and stop stinking??? These are the big questions of the day.

Thanks for following!

Donn and Deby