Today, we cross into Ecuador! I can’t believe that I’m actually writing those words! We’re both very excited at entering country number two, and officially making this a multi-country trip, but also a bit sad to be leaving Colombia. Over the past nearly two months, we’ve really grown quite fond of it; its people, its landscape, its biodiversity and shear variety. I won’t say too much more as we’re planning to do a Colombia wrap-up post, but safe to say we’ve both fallen a bit in love with this country.
Our route from Pasto to the border was one I’d got very excited about in the planning stages. Eschewing the usual blast along the Pan-Am, we would detour off in search of volcanoes and crater lakes, and arrive into Ipiales via the unpaved backdoor.
After a couple of days off in Pasto to sort some bike stuff (new chains for both of us and fresh grease in my rear hub bearings), receive a package with some spares/replacements and generally just chill out, we set off to the south on a minor track paralleling the Pan-Am. Despite being at around 2500m above sea level, Pasto sits in a bowl of sorts, so the only way out is up!
After a short dirt downhill, we joined back up with the 2 lane dual carriageways of the Pan-Am, for what was one of the most ridiculous descents I’ve ever experienced. 20km without having to pedal or brake a single time! If only all the miles were this easy. We stopped for a rather good almuerzo in the trucker town just past the very bottom of the canyon, pulling out our phones to check how much further to Tuquerres, our intended stop for the night. Oh dear…30km and 1500m of climbing were required to get there. Gulp. Who planned this route? Oh, me!
After 3 hours of uphill grinding, we finally topped out on a plateau of rolling fields at 3000m. The clouds had cleared at this point and been replaced by the most amazing evening light. Two volcanoes could be seen sitting proud to the south: Volcan Chiles, which sits right on the Ecuadorean border, and the slightly higher Volcan Cumbal with its smoking top. This latter we would be seeing up close very soon.
Our initial plan whilst in Tuquerres had been to spend a day climbing up the nearby Volcan Azufral and visiting the famous Laguna Verde in its crater. However, it turned out that this had been shut for a number of years due to excessive erosion (or some such), so that was now off the cards. Instead, we spent the following day cruising south on rolling tarmac and one very straight road to the town of Cumbal. After another trout almuerzo, we slowly pedalled up the hill to Laguna de la Bolsa, which sits right on the edge of the paramo.
After eating a mango on a wall overlooking the lake, we dropped back down the hill, did a u-turn, then pedalled straight back up a parallel-ish cobbled track, winching our way to 3500m.
From the initial planning stages of this trip, I’d eyed up an ascent of Volcan Cumbal as a fun little side project for myself. It was satisfyingly high enough (4736m) to be a proper challenge and would be my lifetime high point by a good 1000m, but not too high as to be totally unrealistic and importantly, all the information I could find suggested it was a walk up, no technical mountaineering skills or kit required. Whilst researching ascent routes, I’d come across this place on google maps – Refugio El Frailejone – that looked to be the de-facto base camp. This was why we were grinding up this ridiculously steep cobbled track. It wasn’t without some uncertainty though – we’d messaged both contact numbers for the place and number of times in the days previous and heard nothing back (N.B. Turns out their electricity was cut off so they probably didn’t have working phones).
Luckily, the place was exactly where it said on google maps (not a given in Colombia) and after a knock on the door, we were ushered in and given 2 steaming cups of agua panela and some sweet fried breads. Gotta love Colombian hospitality! Richard Tapie and his family run this refugio as a sort of add-on to their main farm (he also guides on the volcano). We saw sheep, guinea pigs, various vegetables, and the following day, watched as they transferred fish between various ponds on their trout farm. As the name suggests, the property sits right in paramo, with a commanding view of the patchwork quilt of fields that is southern Narino. It really is an idyllic place. The family were also extremely welcoming and generous, keeping us fed during our stay with lots of trout and chips.
But the absolute best thing about the Refugio, well, if you’re El anyway, was a tiny little kitten. She loved the attention and climbing up bikes, humans…you name it. Their puppy was cut too, although a bit jumpy if we’re being picky!
The following morning, I (Liam) went and did my (silly) ascent and descent of Volcan Cumbal as fast as I could. I very optimistically ran the first mile, but after feeling like I was about to have a hear attack, fast hiked the rest. Things hit different at 4000m! 10 minutes in, I was joined by a little furry friend who followed we all the way up and down the volcano, all for some measly morsels of boccadillo I fed him every time I had some myself. I subsequently learned that he was the younger family’s dog and often does laps of the volcano with visitors. What a champ! We nicknamed him Kilian in tribute. After a quad busting descent, I was back at the refugio in 2hrs 53 minutes, absolutely pooped after not having properly run for two years, but satisfied to have ticked one volcano off the list. Hopefully, a few more of these to come on this trip.
El’s experience of the volcano was a little more leisurely and mindful pace. I (El) had previously lost full use of my legs at 3,000m and was feeling quite breathless at 3,500m above sea level. However, we’ve previously been up in the paramo and hadn’t had much time to explore this unique Andean ecosystem. The Venezuelan, Colombian and Northern Ecuadorean paramo is characterised by the frailejones (“big monks” according to Wikipedia). These perennial shrubs are from the Asteraceae family, which is the same family of flowering plants as the daisy and sunflower. These hairy not-so-little numbers are endangered as their habitat is cleared to make space for potato farming and we certainly saw evidence of this. They’re also incredibly important for collecting water vapour from the clouds, the sound of the paramo is the sound fast running water cascading down the mountain side. Just as I was turning around a little dog came to say hello, then a few seconds later a very exhausted but pleased with himself Liam appeared.
With both of us back down at the refugio, we lingered around, not wanting to leave this stunning place, and ended up staying for lunch (you guessed it, trout and chips). With heavy hearts, we did eventually have to get back on our bikes and face the bumpy, if flattish, ride to Ipiales, from where this blog post is written. Next stop: Ecuador!
Enjoying the blog guys it’s much better than Instagram 👍