Heliconia & Ebejico

(A day trip from Medellin)


On one of my later days in Medellin, Paul and I went for a day ride off the beaten path. Neither words, nor photographs can help me share the experience and the beauty of this land. Nevertheless, here is the photo essay.




Our landing was without incident, and we appeared to be the only intelligent life(!) in close proximity.






Welcome to Heliconia.








I love this shot. Thanks Paul!










Ebejico




We have a lot of washing up to do.

Medellin - III

(DAY189 : Los Angeles - Medellin : another 11 hours with zero legroom)
(DAY190 - now : Medellin)


After wasting another eleven hours of my life running around in ugly airports, waiting in lines among stressed out people, and cramped in dinky airplane seats eating crap for food, I was back in Medellin. My previous journey here may have taken three months, but I wouldn't call an hour of it "wasted". What exactly is it we call efficiency?

Following the hugs and hellos at Casa Kiwi, I was up in the same room, same Medellin. But I wasn't quite the same. I don't think I will be until I'm back on the road.

Had I returned to Colombia a few days later, Katirga would have become the property of the Colombian government. So it wasn't until extending her permit that it was finally time to see her. Was she ok?

Neither Kawasaki USA, nor the dealership I purchased from had responded to my emails regarding the oil-burning issue. No matter how you look at it, having to add a quart (~ a liter) of oil every 500 miles (~ 800 km) can not be normal, especially not on a brand new bike. A recent poll on KLR650.net currently indicates that 20% of the participants have the problem with their 2008 KLRs. But tough luck for us, as the one year warranty is valid only in the US.

The way things work here, a friend mentioned my problem to his friend, and before I knew it I was invited to Auteco, Kawasaki's Colombia distributor. After a tour of the impressive assembly plant, I explained my problem, and received an offer more generous than anyone could expect. I was already familiar with Colombian generosity and kindness, but this also involved a true dedication to the brands they represent.

In my absence, Auteco not only provided safe storage, but took the engine apart to diagnose and fix the problem. They found the culprit to be the piston rings, and replaced them with a new set. But they didn't stop there, and while at it checked everything, replaced the fork oil, lubricated and repacked the entire swingarm and suspension linkage, replaced the brake pads, and equipped the rear brake calipers with heat-shields. I didn't even know there was a fix for my rear brake which quickly boiled its fluid. Then, they put the finishing touch with an incredible detailing job.

I picked her up shiny like new, unsatisfied with the number of "thank you"s I said. After having ridden Hoover a few times, I also wondered whether if they might have forgotten to put the engine back on.


Katirga waiting to be interviewed on TV.

Still there was work to be done. I had to take apart the Fisher-Price instrument panel and fix the odometer reset button once again. Then, all critical bolts that had been removed and reinstalled at Auteco needed to be re-marked with red paint. This allows me to visually identify and tighten any loosening bits before they cause any major trouble.

Unfortunately, not everything can be checked visually, and the rear rack top bolts that Arie had fixed for me in Bocas had broken again. As many times before, I ran to the Suzuki superstore in El Poblado for advice. Not having spent a penny at his store (partly because they have refused to accept payment for the bits and bolts they have generously provided), I don't even count as one of Daniel's clients; yet, him and his team have always been there to help. Surely enough, Daniel made a call to a friend and I was on my way to Mastech within a few minutes.

Mastech are manufacturers of motorcycle accessories like crash-bars, luggage racks, etc., operating in a handsomely equipped shop close to El Poblado. (Their products are truly top-shelf, and honestly appear much better than anything I could find in the US while I was shopping around to dress Katirga.) There, I met Marco, the main man at Mastech, whom supervised the whole operation on Katirga's tail section. In the end, she was sporting 2mm wider bolts (that still screw into Arie's single piece receptor). It took a bunch of work and time. It required specialty tools. It was a job very well done. But... Marco wouldn't let me pay! Once again, I found myself leaving a place mumbling "thank you, thank you, thank you,.." repeatedly.

I can not thank enough to all the wonderful people who have helped me throughout this trip. I am still mumbling...

Partying dialed down several notches, and thanks to the emails from you guys wondering what's been going on, I finally managed to get back on the reporting. Thanks for staying tuned. Soon, I'll get back on the wheels as well.

Oh, and as for your most popular question... Yes, they are.

[ Los Angeles ]

(DAY160 : Medellin - Los Angeles : 11 hours with zero legroom)
(DAY161 - 187 : Los Angeles)




My unexpected visit to California was simply disorienting. In about eleven hours, I was yanked back to LA as if out of a dream. The INS officer had said "Welcome home" but I could not have felt more out of place. This is home?

I recognized the headlights when Gizem took the corner. Big hug. More like home now, but not enough to disperse the strangeness. Then, we got in her 2-door Accord and left. Wow! What a fancy car! Shortly afterwards on 405, it was "Wow! Check out this road!". This went on for a while to later include variations; "Wow! I have this many clothes?", "Why do I own this much junk?", etc. Which life is mine? Will I ever have a home?

The first few days in LA, I could faintly feel the presence of my powers. During my last couple of weeks in Medellin, I could already feel them subsiding but I was having too good a time to worry about it. Or perhaps it worked the other way around; the awareness drove me to partying till I could numb it down. In any case, sooner or later I would don my transformer-jacket, fire-up my transporter, and hit the road. That, I knew would in minutes revive the powers that quietly fade when exposed to static mortals for extended periods. It never crossed my mind that I could get exposed to LA.

You have no idea what I'm mumbling about. (If you do, skip a paragraph)

Ask any guy riding far about his super-powers and he'll just laugh. Of course! Do you see me going around yapping about it? So strictly between us; once all you have becomes your motorcycle, whatever you carry on it, and an endless road, you gain a long list of extraordinary yet fragile traits. To summarize the more important, you possess ten times more luck than normal, unlimited optimism and appreciation, advanced patience, evolved vision, hightened awareness of now, and even the capability to achieve stillness of mind. You get to see what everyone else is too busy to see, you perceive all things old and tired as fresh and new, you are rid of the worry of tomorrow. Kids wave at you, people offer their support and friendship. You get transformed.

So, like I was saying, the first few days in LA I still felt some of my super-liveliness. Untimely smiles for no reason are some of the most common physical manifestations of their presence, so other people feel and respond to them as well. Only if they could survive here a bit longer. Maybe if I took Hoover out for a ride everyday!..

Tired of sitting in the dark garage, she first gave me some attitude, but nothing a shiny battery couldn't fix. Then... "EEEEKK!!!" Omigod, she is a monster! How did I ride this thing the way I used to? I took her back in before I got myself killed or arrested, with an intention to work at it everyday. Ofcourse, who has time to do that in "real" life.


Before getting cozy with Katirga, I could handle Hoover's 130 ponies.

With each day of to-dos, my other life felt more and more like a dream I woke up from. The things I could not care less for only a month ago eventually started to make sense again. What has been my daily life started to look like a crazy adventure. How easily we get used to the routine and the comfort. How quickly the powers abandon. They may be addictive, but if you let go of them long enough... Like a long distance love affair, you end up with just the memory.

When my LA time was up, I had already dissolved my then-new business and torn apart all strings and plans, yet still had so much to be done. When did everything ever get done? I might have almost forgotten about the trip, but I did remember how much I hated living the blind life of to-dos among machinery, whether it be man made or made of men.

How wonderful to know my capricious old girl is awaiting my return.

Medellin - II

(DAY117 - 159 : Medellin)


Medellin beautifully blends European and Latin American flavors while offering everything a modern city should. For a city of this size, it's surprisingly cozy and can effortlessly hide its "citiness". During the day, it's tall brick buildings are handsomely juxtaposed against the green hills and a blue sky full of fluffy clouds. In the evenings, if you look down on it's flickering lights from Las Palmas, you think liquid gold simmering between mountains. It's climate is always pleasant, even now in the rainy season. And should you wish to be "remote", a half hour scenic ride can get you among the most beautiful hills and valleys, sparsely dotted with farms. But if that were all, I would've taken a bunch of photos and moved on a while ago. Its real gem is its people, the paisas.








Santa Fe de Antioqia is only an hour and a half away.


San Antonio close to Rio Negro is a must visit destination on Sundays.


The lake side in Guatape gets packed on weekends.




On the way to Guatape, you'll also visit El Penol.




After a month in Medellin, I'd gotten to know more people than my eight years in LA, and by this I don't mean just handshakes. Friends aside, how can you not feel at home when every stranger is willing to help with whatever you may need? How do you leave this place???

You get on American Airlines flight 910.

Medellin - I

(DAY116 : Cartagena - Medellin : 420 miles)
(DAY117 - 159 : Medellin)

Let's see if months later I can still remember...

Before I left Cartagena, I gave Katirga a full service in the courtyard of the hostel. With the routine replenishments I doubt she needed an oil change, but for sake of changing the oil-filter, she got one anyway along with a new spark plug and cleaned air-filter. Still, she wasn't ready.

The battery had crapped out again, and after quite a few moto-taxi rides with it on my lap, it became clear that this time servicing wouldn't help. I didn't want to buy the same low-life battery, and a sealed type was not available. "Medellin", everyone said. As for the rear tyre, there was a Pirelli for $75 but if I wanted anything else, "Medellin", they again said.

Getting the Pirelli and the battery, then heading north-east to visit the spectacular Tyrona Park and Santa Marta would have been the wise thing to do. So, I left Cartagena at 7 am with a nearly dead battery and bald tyre, heading south to Medellin. When I stopped to fill-up, the odometer reset button gave up again as well.

The road out of Cartagena was full of trucks and busses, and not much of a pleasant ride at first. But it gradually got better, and eventually became gorgeous. Along the way, I went through several military check points with friendly nods, and once got stopped by the police. They checked my paperwork and realized I didn't have the mandatory liability insurance. I promised to get it at the next town, and they let me off with a "Suerte!". Had I known the insurance cost $125, I wouldn't have promised.

The ride through the mountains was spectacular, but I barely had a chance to take in the scenery while I was hauling heinie. When I entered Medellin, I had been riding non-stop for 11 hours, and it was getting dark fast. Shortly after I pulled over on the main road, completely clueless about where I am and where I should be heading, a bicyclist in full race gear showed up and guided me all the way through the city, to a centrally located nice hotel. (Thanks a lot June!) Without help, I have no idea where I'd end up in this giant field of lights. But then, knowing Colombianos, it's quite unlikely that one can end up help-less here.


Medellin from Pueblito Paisa.


The public library.


Botero Park and the Culture Palace.


Botero's sculptures with the metro line in the background.


A replica of a typical Antioquian village, Pueblito Paisa is located on a hill top in the middle of Medellin.

My room at Hotel Nutibara's secondary wing cost $30 including breakfast. Located right across from the Botero Park and Culture Palace, the hotel was also close to the area that hosts a majority of the motorcycle parts & accessories shops. The radial profile dual-purpose Kenda once again proved impossible to find despite the wide selection available, so Katirga is now wearing a $70 Michelin at the rear. As for a sealed battery, I was out of luck here as well, and ended up with the same type of junk for $60. We'll see how long this one will last.

Daniel works long hours at the motorcycle shop while he studies towards an engineering degree. On one of the 2 nights I stayed downtown, he invited me over to his barrio for a few drinks with a couple of his friends. We took the metro south almost all the way to Itagui, and walked around on the dark but lively streets of the barrio, in areas my guide book would probably advise staying away from. After we picked up a couple of his amigas we found ourselves a cheap bar and ordered beer by the meter, served in a tall vertical tube with a tap at the bottom. It didn't last too long.

Quite a contrast from the barrios, Parque Lleras in El Poblado district hosts an important portion of Medellin's more flamboyant nightlife. Cafes, bars, and restaurants are clumped together in a piece of Europe with a better attitude. This is where many travellers end up, and err, stop traveling ;)

Paul too was one such traveller about 3 years ago. Ultimately he did continue his travels, also on a KLR, but not before founding the now well known Hostel Casa Kiwi. With a secure garage for motorcycles, a close proximity to where it all happens, a stylish decor, and a rumba-non-stop atmosphere, Casa Kiwi easily got my business. My private room with a window overlooking the patio and the dense greenery cost $18 after the "biker discount", and included Wi-Fi internet.


El Poblado. A ten minute walk towards those hills will get you to Parque Lleras.


A Parque Lleras corner.


Chilling at Casa Kiwi. (Carrera 36, No: 7-10, Medellin. Phone: (57-4) 268 2668)

Within the first week of my arrival to Medellin, I started taking private Spanish lessons from an excellent teacher, got some Salsa classes going, and met quite a few great people whom I now call friends. Then, the concept of time slipped away. Had I studied as hard as I partied, I probably would have been fluent in Spanish by now. But then, there is no light-partying around here. Especially if Aguardiente* is involved! (*A strong Colombian spirit more suitable for cleaning tough stains than drinking)








Oz at Parque Lleras


Circus at Las Palmas.


Aguardiente and the proper serving etiquette.


Jorge is the national skate-boarding champion, so he is constantly surrounded by hot babes.


Serdar is, well, probably just dreaming all this. Exhibit A - Unforeseen circumstances causing major delays in expedition schedule.