We got up early so we could get moving. Then Dan said his phone charger was not working so we started working on it. After taking it apart we found that the wires had broken inside the connector that attaches to the phone. We busted out the tools and set about fixing it. We have a pretty good set of tools and an electrical kit that includes a 12volt soldering iron that hooks up to the bike. After about an hour Dan stated, “this thing will work for the rest of the trip”. We packed up the tools and got ready to roll.
After fixing the cell fone charger – we had a bit of an audience watching us – we put all our gear on and started to roll out. Well… we were parked up by the front desk and had to maneuver a little bit to get out and as Dan goes to pull out of the reception area he is turning and his bike stalls – dead – he puts his foot down and his foot lands on sand/gravel that is on top of the tile/cement (damn it, where are the sweeping/cleaning crew when you need them?) – anyway – he quickly realizes the bike is going down and probably best to not fight it so he lets it go down. It lands on it’s right side and rolls up onto the right side bag and crushes the front turn signal… Dan is actually off the bike when it is rolling and is talking on the intercom to John telling him that it’s going down etc… he stands there for a bit and then as other people are moving to the bike he goes over and stands it up – straddles it, starts it up, and rides off… The altitude was probably 8,500 feet or something like that and the bikes run very poorly when they are first started or cold – of course a “discussion” ensued between Dan and John because Dan didn’t wait long enough to allow John to take a picture etc… but the basic fact of the matter is that the bike was down and the turn signal is broken… bummer, but finally the pressure is off – the score is even and we’ve both dropped the bikes.
As we headed up and over a 10,000 foot pass the scenery was just amazing. It’s really too bad Columbia is so screwed up politically as it’s easily the most beautiful area we have rode through so far. I mean this place is unbelievable, with vista after vista for seemingly forever. We were talking on the mic and said. “Once we get out of Columbia, I’ll be really glad we rode through it”. Traffic was pretty heavy up and over the pass, With many switch backs, buses and trucks to keep us on our game. You either have to “work” the traffic or crawl up the hill with the trucks/buses. We choose to work the traffic. The bikes were weezing once we passed 8,000 feet, but we kept spanking them to get them to get around the traffic. After we got to the top we had our first stop with the “Law” in Columbia. These guys were regular military. Big guns and all. They were wondering where our orange vests were. In Columbia motorcyclists are required to wear orange vests with their license plate number on the back. Well, we read as tourists you didn’t need them (and our buddy at Girag – Marlio told us we didn’t need them!). We debated whether to get them to blend in or just skip ‘em. After a short delay and them checking our papers, John saying “touristo” over and over when the cop pointed at his vest and then asking where were ours…. we were released.
We ripped down the other side of the pass and started towards Sevilla. This started out as a good two lane road through a bunch of coffee plantations. It went right along a ridge top with vistas on both sides. The road quickly turn bad however with pot holes everywhere and we began wondering if we made the right choice of roads… After about 30 miles we were stopped again, this time by some regular cops in white uniforms. They checked our documents, they were super nice. Shook our hands and sent us on our way. We made the last 15 or so miles into Seville. Right as we rolled into town these two cops come running across the street flailing their arms for us to stop. We produced all of our documents and he spent what seemed 20 minutes conferring on the radio with his “commander”.
He then informed us that we needed to follow him to the police station to “meet” his commander. John didn’t understand what he was saying and Dan played dumb – making him work harder to explain it over and over. Dan was hoping he would just get bored and tired of repeating himself … but it didn’t work and we had to follow them to the police station. On the way we chatted about just bolting – after all it was him and his buddy on a 250 dirt bike. We could easily out run them. Where would we go? I guess we’ll go see what they want.
We weave thru a fairly nice town and come into the town square where the police station is located – we pull in and S-L-O-W-L-Y we stop the bikes, pull them in, back them into place, take off our helmets, take off our gloves, lock things up, take off the tank bags and we stand there waiting while our two “buddies” are inside conferring with “El Jefe” (The boss!)… we don’t have a lot of daylight left to reach Cali and we’re both wondering what the f*ck is going on here…
So they wave us over to the office and direct us in and basically tell us to sit. At this point I “John” am getting pretty nervous. We are sitting in a scumy one room office. We walked past about 10 heavily armed cops outside and in the entry way. We meet a few guys who are all “friendly” in a cop-ish sort of way – Then El Jefe starts asking us questions and I do not understand anything. Dan is trying to figure out what he is saying – answering some of the questions and El Jefe seems to be satisfied - somewhat. About this time I look down and my leg is shaking. I had know Idea it was shaking till I looked at it.
El Jefe brings in a couple more guys – and I (Dan) am now thinking – “oh, the good cop/bad cop routine” – and I think well, I will just act stupid and speak no spanish… oh, shit, one of the guys speaks some English… he starts asking us questions while another guy is banging stuff into a computer. The usual questions like: name, address, where are you going, where are you staying etc… then they get a little personal – like: are you married? – what are your parents name? how come you both have the same last name? what is your wife’s name? why don’t you have kids? how much money are you carrying? where can we put some cocaine on your bikes? and how much cocaine can you carry for us??? –
After they have typed in every scrap of info you can think of, the dude says he wants to take our picture. He shoves a piece of paper in front of me (John) and says “please sign, it’s permission for us to take your picture.” I look at it and of course its all in Spanish. I said “No I will not sign it, I do not know what it says..” He repeats that it’s permission to take my photo. I repeat “no I will not sign it..You have permission to take my photo, but I will not sign anything”. At this same time I notice they are setting up a fingerprinting kit… I look at Dan and he is shaking his head “no”. About this time I am wondering where this is REALLY going. The dude says we are strangers in his town and that is why we are being checked out. “its for our own safety”. Dan reads the document – or at least tries to – and he tells the guy “No Firma – we are not signing anything” – He is surprised and goes to get “El Jefe” – who tells him (basically) – “we don’t need their picture – let them go” – but then Starsky (or was it Hutch??? or maybe Beretta??) keeps the pressure on us and keeps asking more questions – and Dan says “what is the problem here?” – Starsky says there is no problem, you are just strangers in our town… well… shit, if this is how you treat strangers, no wonder nobody comes here !!!!
Starsky then asked us if we needed an “escort” to Cali – Dan asked him if we needed one??? – he said “No, it’s safe” – and Dan said – “why would we need an escort then?” – well, Starsky didn’t seem to appreciate the humor here – and after a few dozen more questions they decided it was time to cut us loose…But first they needed to inspect our motorcycles. “what?! – is that all you got for us???” – On the way outside we noticed that one of the dweeby lackey dudes was using a digital camera to take pictures of our passports – … I guess they “really” needed our pictures… When we got out to our bikes they were surrounded by half the damn town. After checking most of our bags we were given an “escort” out of town. The escort stopped at the edge of town and pointed down the road and said, “how do you feel?” Dan said fine! But we were saying on the intercom how we felt like kicking him in the balls….
We headed out out of town checking the clock to see if we could still make it to Cali before dark. The chatter on the intercom was about how the dude called his buddies to ambush us in the mountains outside of town….. but the road they put us on was a very nice 2 lane road with NO trucks that went along the ridge of an incredible valley and the scenery was spectacular with a number of very nice homes and ranchos along the way.
We made it to Cali without further incident and checked into the Casblanca Hostel. We both agreed it was time for a drink… we hit the showers and headed out to find dinner and some booze…
Cheers!
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