Day 91 - Marko Round The World

Day 91 1/25/2022

Odometer 33,119 – 33,255 —– 136 Miles (10,555 Miles Total)

Mocoa, Colombia – Ipiales, Colombia

I woke up excited for this ride I’ve been hearing about for months. I packed up my stuff since I didn’t get to do so last night. It was already hot and humid in the hostel and I couldn’t wait to get up in the mountains to cool off. I paid for my last night, loaded up my bike and went into town for breakfast. The bike always feels so heavy with my gear after riding it for a bit without anything on it. I had the same breakfast as yesterday but doubled up my eggs since I was starving along with a huge cup of fresh squeezed OJ. I opened up google and typed in a small town right after the death road. Once I got close to the beginning of the road it said 70 KM’s which is about 40 miles. So 40 miles of dirt roads climbing to 11,000′ sounds like fun.

I filled up with about 3 gallons of fuel so it was enough to get me over the mountain. I didn’t want to fill up and carry all that unnecessary weight of fuel with me. Once I got near the start of the dirt road I hit reset on the odometer. About 3 minutes into the ride up the dirt road I had to stop for some construction workers clearing out a pile of dirt next to the road. We waited about 30 minutes for them to play their games. I was covered In sweat already and I could feel sweat dripping down my stomach and legs. Finally they gave us the thumbs up to continue. I took a small video a minute later of the clouds and mountains I’d soon be driving up. I went through a huge deep water crossing on the road since there was a huge waterfall right there on the road. Wow I thought to myself. This ride is going to be beautiful and wild. 1 minute. 1 fucking minute later the ride was paused again.

So since I got to Colombia I can’t believe the bullshit I’ve seen these drivers do. A week into being here I was convinced these people are the worst drivers I’ve ever been around in my entire life. And no Americans aren’t the best. Germans. These guys win 100%. Anyway the road was obviously dirt so no one was speeding. The road is also narrow where two cars can’t pass each other. But somehow these two fucking morons somehow hit each other head on. No, the road wasn’t on a curve. These idiots had about a 500′ stretch of straight road in front of each other before they hit each other. Everyone was stopped, there was a long line of traffic waiting. Another guy on a bike started chatting with me in Spanish. I asked him what they were waiting for. He said the police are 15 minutes away. I know what a Colombian 15 minutes means.

These guys didn’t want to move their cars until the cops showed up so they could take pictures. So great, now we all have to suffer because these clowns don’t want to move their cars before the cops come. A few guys were pretty interested in my bike. I took some photos of them. They wanted some photos with me. We kept each other occupied for the next 70 minutes while the cops came and wrote down a few things and then made them move their cars. While we waited the clouds rolled in and it was pretty thick. It brought a light drizzle with it. I was just praying I could go down this road without rain. It would make me very happy. My tires have nearly 10k miles on them by now and they’re getting really low. I’m trying to not replace them until I come back in November to finish the trip. And no one down here carries the tire I want so I’m not going to spend $450 on tires that won’t make it to Argentina when I get back.

Anyway I started out the ride. My GPS said 70 Kilometers. It was now 11:15 or so and I burned nearly two hours so far. The road wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Pretty bumpy but after riding the last dirt road for two hours this was much better and I feel more comfortable taking my bike down these dirt roads from hell. Not because I’m scared for myself, but because I’m terrified that my bike will break or the panniers will fall off or some crazy shit! I kept passing the other guys that left on the ride with me when the accident cleared. I would stop for photos, they would pass me, a few minutes later I would pass them since they were riding slower. We were all beeping and laughing when we passed each other.

I stopped at one point about halfway through the ride. I had a lovely view of the road wrapping around the side of the mountain with the clouds just rolling off the side of the mountains nearby. The peace and quiet up there was beautiful. I was 11,000′ above the sea and I couldn’t see the ground. How the hell did humans carve this into the side of the mountain this high up so many years ago. Juan passed me on the scooter beeping at me with his wife on the back. She was holding her phone up recording the view as well even though they have driven this road countless times so far on their little Chinese 150cc motorcycle.

I got back on the bike and passed them a few minutes later beeping giving them a thumbs up! I started ripping through turns now. On one side was no guardrail and a drop a few hundred feet down, a few seconds later a waterfall on the side of the road. I was beeping coming around corners so trucks would know I’m coming and getting scared when one would pop around the corner locking up my back wheel. I stopped for another picture of my bike as I walked up the side of the mountain to get a better angle. I take a few shots and sit there taking it in. I’m doing it. I’m up here on the Trampoline Del Muerte by myself 10,500 miles from home. This is wild. A few seconds later Juan passes me with his wife beeping the horn. I drop the camera and snap a few pictures of them riding past. I’m having such a great time.

I get back on the bike again and I’m driving on the dirt roads even faster. It reminds me of when I took my bike up in the mountains to my grandparents house in Serbia having a blast until I went down. I slowed down a bit and calmed down. I thought about grandpa Yak who did this trip 5 years ago. I remember sitting with him at the carpentry shop I was a foreman at before I left and he told me to ride this road. I took out my phone and typed in Trampolina Del Muerte on google maps and hit save. And here I am now riding it. He took this road late at night because he’s getting old and delusional and had to camp at the top of the mountain sleeping inches from the road where trucks drove past him all night. I thought about how crazy it is that he was here by himself 5 years ago riding on this same dirt road in the middle of nowhere and here I am as well 10,500 miles from home. Such a wild thought that were both here so far away from home.

I was nearly out of the valley when I was thinking about this. I was pulled over by a cow grazing some grass on the side of the road and took out my phone to send Yak a message. I just started to record a video with my emotions and thoughts for about a minute and sent it to him. I’m pretty sure it made his day when he got it. He said he remembers the same emotions and feelings when he was almost out of the road looking down over the small city under the death road where I was at. We became stronger as people during this trip. Nothing can stop us and we can figure out how to get around so many obstacles. It’s a great feeling. Life at home will be so bland after this trip. No more stress at home since it will be too easy.

I got back on the bike and rode into town. Well that ride was too easy after all the stories I heard about it. What a letdown. I pulled over at the first place I saw for food. I got a delicious meal with some fruit juice. It was very fairly priced. I left a generous tip since I was so happy. A few people I passed on the road pulled in when I was leaving and I said goodbye! I typed in Ipiales which is near the Ecuador border on my GPS. 5 Hours. Eh. I switch over to Waze and it says 3:30. Waze knows how I like to ride. Maybe a minute later it starts to rain and we’re pretty high up in elevation. I pull over and take out my winter gloves along with my balaclava. Bring on the rain.

Well fuck the rain did come bring the heat. It was down pouring and the road had more turns than I could ever imagine for the next 100 miles. I would be in heaven if it was dry out but no it was one of the most slippery roads i’ve ever ridden in the rain. I figured out a boot test now. If it’s raining I drop my boot on the concrete and see how slippery it is. It’s been working out really well for me. The road was almost like black ice in spots. My backend kicked out a few times around turns but I kept it under control. The views on this road were insane. I wish I could have stopped to take some pictures but not with the rain I wasn’t.

Some more bad news. My Rukka gear I bought two years ago is starting to lose its waterproofing. This is the second set of pants and jacket I bought from them that’s losing its waterproofing. I sent the last one back and I got a full refund 4 years later. Hope they hook it up again this time. So now my arms and crotch are wet. I’m not happy. Anyway I kept riding and stopped for some pictures when the rain let up a little bit. I passed two bikes from the US on Harleys going the other way. I made my way to Santuario de las Lajas. It’s a church built as a bridge in a huge valley with a river under it. I pulled into the parking lot taking my wet gloves off and I saw an Africa twin with Mosko Moto bags. He pulls up to me and he looks familiar. He only knows Spanish. He was with the group I saw in Panama and Cali. I was so tired when I pulled into the parking lot that I passed the whole group and didn’t even see them. Wow.

I walked over to them and told them I just booked an Airbnb and it can sleep 8. I gave them the number from the owner and they would call him since they were staying in Iaipales as well for the night. I told them I’m gonna walk down to the church and they can go check in at the airbnb.

I went for my walk down the hill and this church was insane. I have to come look at it again in the daytime when it’s not raining and at night time. It looked fake to me. Yak called me on my walk back up the hill and I was huffing and puffing. I checked my watch and I was at 9K feet. The altitude was really taking a toll on me. I talked to Yak for a bit and then made my way back to the city to meet the guys. Long story short the Airbnb owner picked up and then never called us back for 90 minutes. We gave up on him and got a hotel for $12 each in our private rooms. We parked our bikes and cleaned up. We all went out for some food. While at the hotel checking in the owner told us there’s a place across the street that does PCR tests for the border crossings. BUT, of course there’s always a but. The results take 38 hours exactly. Well fuck that’s not going to work. We all started scrambling to get fake tests done. Next thing I know it’s 11pm and their guy wasn’t making any progress so I got in touch with a friend of a friend and boom I was set with mine. I just had to print it out. I worked on my blog for a bit and the anxiety kicked in hard for the border crossing. I haven’t done one in over a month and I forgot how stressful it is. The bed I was in was rock solid with literally plastic pillows. I found a place to get my PCR test printed before going to bed on Google maps and was praying I’ll get across the border with everything.

The church, I have to go back and get better shots.