Becoming a biker

Saturday, November 13th, 2010

A new... twist..

I never felt that I was like other people, and this is probably the biggest proof I have of that being the truth. My heart was so open to everything, ready to jump into every adventure crossing my path. I was already high on life. My decision brought me deep down at times, but also sky high. I will never regret it.

As we came to Salento, we checked in at La Serrana, which was nothing like my simple life finca, but it had parking and it had an absolutely lovely country house feel, and an included breakfast. Victor met some friends from the Panama boat: a couple that was travelling by push bike, and we went out with them to eat. Right after we arrived, we also met a polish couple that had two bikes for sale: a red Honda 225 xl, and the bike that swoomed me: a black Honda 250 Tornado. They say girls fall for guys that are tall, dark and bad for you. Now I can join that club.
The next morning, after talking a lot about practical stuff, we went for a test run up Valle de Cocora's muddy slopes. I rode the red bike up there, and I probably should have ridden the Tornado to realize how tall he was for me. Just how that would effect my riding, I would painfully discover later on.
Our original idea was that we'd find me a bike in Ecuador, but here two bikes were, bought in Argentina, with all the papers ready to be transferred into my name, without spending days arranging a local purchase where I wouldn't know what I'd be getting. The red bike was considerably cheaper, but this if I'm gonna risk my life, then I'm not risking it for something that's second best. It's also a popular bike that shouldn't be too difficult to sell, with contacts, and it's easy to find and fix parts here. South americans are also fantastic at coming up with creative solutions. Bikes and bikers are popular in Colombia. We luckily don't have to pay or stop at checkpoints, which would have made traffic much slower.

On the way down from the Valley, I got to try the Tornado. It immediately felt amazing. To see how it felt, I was in the lead, riding a bit faster than I had, as there was no traffic. But too many things going on in my head, in addition to the surprise of seing a truck on my side of the road after exiting a turn, kept me from being cautious for wet leaves, and on the wet ground I tried to turn slowly. But it was too slow, and I slipped, terrified that I had just smashed Tornado. I could feel that I was alright, even though my knee had taken a hit. No one had thought to lend me knee protectors... I couldn't walk in the beginning, and for the first few seconds, I thought: that was it. No more riding for me. But they were all nice about it, and I realized that no, it wasn't over. We all fall, again and again. I've fallen several times since, but standing still, and learning from it every time. One time was when we all stopped in a hill, one time was just my knee being too weak to stop the tall bike from tipping, and the last time was crawling through the slow rush hour, taking a chance by following others onto the a bit too muddy side road and then driving too slow when going back up on the curve. For that and rough terrain, I´ve learned that you should stand up on the bike, which will make things a whole new deal. It's been tough and it hurts my confidence more than me. Unfortunatly, the one time I just tipped over was right after I had bought the bike, and it was directly on my wounded knee, causing it too swoll up like hell. I had to walk a lot around on it, comparing prices and buying protection, though I couldn't bend it. That, being tired, the fear of not being able to protect my bike and myself from falling, the question if I had just made a huge mistake buying an expensive bike that I have to take responsibility for and sell for less than I bought it for, the fact that I was under a lot of pressure to learn a lot of precautions and technical stuff at once, as Victor is in a hurry to get far down south, made things really hard. All of those things, how much time it took to arrange my stuff, how the red Honda tipped over his KLR, and broke the expensive wind shield, how one of his his specialized luggage straps that he had lent to me got caught in the wheel to cut it into two, and how he worried and felt responsible for me, as he was the experienced one that introduced me to the whole idea, for made our relationship pretty strained. I have learned so much in an extremely short time, and there is still a lot to learn. So many precautions! You never know whats around the next corner: gravel, water, a car, tree, a cow... and riding in the city is serious. You can't drop your bike there. But people do. Its just for the others around you to stop as well and make signal for people that they need to avoid you. Scary as hell, though.

The scenery is great, as it is Colombia. We didn´t take the Panamericana, but a more scenic road. I heard great things about the state of the Panamericanan highway. The roads in Colombia are pretty alright compared to what I´ll have to expect further south. But there are also highlights that I´m looking forward too, such as stretches in Peru, Salar de Uyuni, Argentina, crazy Bolivian roads, etc. We´re also going up in the highlands more and more now. It should be interesting. Before you reach Cali, you have the lush ground fields and a sudden mountain range, framing in the horizon ahead of you. We entered the city before dark, in rush hour, as I mentioned. Sticking together, finding someone to show us the way, and reaching the Casa Blanca hostel, was Hot in the new geer. The first people we met were a family that were all travelling on motorcycles from Canada to the southern tip of Argentina. Its awesome. The mother rides a big bike and it inspires me. I have lowered the bike and when we went touring today, we found me some trekking shoes for 1/3 the price of back home, to make me taller and dryer. Cali isn't bad. I was surprised today when I found out that it was a saturday, though. I should be out salsadancing right now. Things changed drastically again: After getting to know this great family, the circumstances changed to me travelling along with them down south and on the eastern side of Ecuador, which I was bummed out for missing if we'd go straight to Montanita. I´m going to be functioning as the spanish speaker and teacher, which will be nice. Hopefully I can get the recipe on how to become a travelling family one day. So far I got the tip: start early.
After our little downtown tour, I was invited to dinner with some locals, and I walked some more. Tired now. So... yeah. Now there's a totally new travelling! And I guess I kind of said screw modelling, for now. They called me two days after I left, saying that Chevignon wanted to meet me the next day, and went "what, have you left??", even though I had told them repeatedly. After that, she said she'd call. This time I'm not surprised that she still hasn't. The company is probably bancrupt or was never a real one from the start. Just puzzles me that the girl from Laura's school was one of their models. The agency's website is shut down, now. Strange...