2 Gringos drive the PanAmerican Highway in a 1987 4Runner

Everybody settle in for a little BACK-STORY TIME. AKA Blah, blah, blah... Where are stinkin pictures?

The 4Runner has been acting up since around Lago Ometepe back in Nicaragua. For some reason she seems to have no gusto any more. I can't seem to rev her past 3000 RPM while driving down the highway. While cruising along I could pin the pedal and the motor would bog out and run like crap. If I geared down and slowly creeped the pedal up above 3000K it seemed fine. To me and my research this sounded like a TPS (Throttle Position Sensor). We decided to go on a parts hunt in San Jose. This turned out to be a waste of time. We jump from used auto parts, to the dealer, to a new auto parts house. I found a generic O2 sensor but they had no specific 22RE parts that I could find. Oh well, She still runs, Don't she? I'll worry about it later.

With Laurens Mom and sister arriving to Costa Rica soon our plan was to hunker down and stay a few nights near the San Jose Airport.

We found a cheap motel in Heredia and went inside to pay for the room.

We came back outside and see some old man walking towards us with our fridge in his hands. I am runnin over yelling at him wondering how I can justify punching a Grandpa in the face when all of the sudden the owner of the motel comes out yelling that this old guy is actually his friend.

It turns out some young punk tried to run off with our fridge while we were inside paying for the room. Luckily these two old
timers saw it all go down and karate-kicked the kid who then dropped our fridge and ran off. +1 for Old Man Strength and +2 for
not having to fight a senior citizen. He probably would have kicked my ass anyway...

All that said and done we moved everything of value inside the motel room just in case. We got on facebook and sent out some feelers to see who was in the area.

Turns out one of our blog followers and a fellow <a href="http://expeditionportal.com[/img]expeditionportal.com</a> member, Erick, lived right there in Heredia about 10 minutes from our motel. We met up later that night for some beers. We got to practice our spanish (which gets better and better with each drink) and listen to some awesomely horrible spanish karaoke. I considering singing those Tico's a rendition of "The Gambler" they would never forget. Even if they wanted to...

Erick and his sweet Nissan pickup.


Instead we stuck to planning a 4x4 overlanding trip together out on the Osa Peninsula in a few weeks. We had both heard that the roads out there were very bad AKA fun. Erick also gave me a lead on his mechanic who may be able to track down a new TPS and take a look at my issue. He graciously agreed to drive us out there the next morning.

His mechanic checked it out, agreed it may be the TPS but would need more time to be sure. We decided to come back later once we had picked up Laurens Mom and her rental car.

During our facebook blast we learned that fellow overlanders Brad and Sheena from http://DriveNachoDrive.comwere in the San Jose area as well. Word on the street was they were setup in some giant palace looking out over the mountains. They had bedrooms to spare, beer in the fridge, and meat on the grill. We said Adios to our motel in Heredia and headed for the hills!

We rolled up to the bad and simultaneously said "UPGRADE!!!"



When we came inside we met Brad and Sheena already hard at work whipping up some amazing dinner in their baller ass house. The place was a friend of a friends vacation home. Berry nice... Berry berry nice.



Dinner was delecious and many beers and storys were shared. As with every overlander we meet we became fast friends. We all have similar (Read: slighty insane) mindsets and outlooks on life. The community doesnt exactly discourage grandious ideas, going BIG is kinda our thing. As Brad and Sheena told us of their plans to ship their 1984 Volkswagon Vanagon to Asia to continue the journey once they hit Ushuaia, We started getting ideas of our own....

Brad also mentioned a neighbor who recommended an english-speaking mechanic in town. He had taken his VW Van there a day or two before. I figured it would be easy to just drop the 4Runner off for repair with this guy while we ran around Costa Rica in Lauren's Moms rental car... More on this later.

View from the Kitchen Window


Next morning I woke up and strolled around the "grounds". Thats what rich folk call a backyard. The house is set on a beautiful coffee farm with boatloads of beautiful plants and animals.



Aside from Coffee and Mangos, they had a "Cashew Tree" as well. I never realized cashews grew on trees, nor that each Cashew grows out of an individual fruit on said tree. The more you know...

Here you can see the "Cashew apple" just barely starting to form and the nut beneath.




Lauren and Sheena had left for a hike at 7 in morning that day. We had talked the night before about leaving at 10:30AM to pick up her Mom from the airport. When the girls weren't back by 9:30 I started thinking hmmm...

I started loading the truck, casually glancing over my shoulder from time to time wondering where the hell these ladies were at. Lauren is known to wander off for hours at a time on her morning hikes but she usually pops up eventually. I assumed she <em>did</em> in fact want to pick her Mom up from the airport...

At 10AM Brad and I considered them officially lost. We jumped in the 4Runner and searched the hills surrounding the house searching for our lost sheeps.

They couldn't have gotten to far... Or could they? There is a lot of land out there...


After 30 minutes of futile search and rescue I had to drop Brad off at the house and hightail it to the airport solo. It was a stressful ride as I racked my brain trying wondering how in the hell I was going to explain that Lauren was hopelessly lost somewhere in the Costa Rican mountainside to her mother.

Racing like a madman I made record time to the airport. I actually beat the plane by 45 minutes.

I found a payphone and called Brad's house.

"Are they there?"
"Yep, they just showed up"
"GOOD!"
*click*

I could work on the details later, all I needed to know was that she was alive.

I met Laurens Mom and sister, grabbed their bags and started walking them towards the Rental car pickup. I could see the confused looks on their faces wondering where their kin was hiding.

"Wheres Lauren?"
"Its a long story... but shes OK"

We headed back to the house and reunited. Everything worked out in the end as it always seems to do. Everyone was alive, Mom and sister were here.


Brad and Sheena from DriveNachoDrive, Carly, Lauren, Laurens Momma, and yours truly. Safe and sound!



You can read Brad's much more thorough and well-written account of our ladies MIA report on his blog here.
http://www.drivenachodrive.com/2012/05/missing-persons-case
Time to see some sights!

Now that Laurens Mom and sister have arrived we had some exploring to do! We loaded up the rental Toyota Rav4 with all our gear and hit the road. Our first destination was the Monteverde cloud forest up in the mountains. We waved goodbye to Brad and Sheena, plugged the coords into the GPS and away we went.

It was a beautiful paved highway drive back towards the northern side of Costa Rica. After about an hour we turned off the highway and started down some smaller paved roads, which gave way to a potholed road, which eventually gave way to straight dirt track. Ahhh... GPS how I love the adventures you take us on.

The dirt track took us up into the mountains through some fairly decent offroading action for a rental Toyota Rav4. I had to use 4x4 twice to get up some steep skree track. Banging up this rough and rugged road we successfully scared the crap out of Lauren's Mom who kept mumbling something about a "deposit"...


Lauren assured her this kind of driving was quite normal in Central America and away we went. The scenery was beautiful and as long as I kept the RAV4 a decent distance away from the sheer cliff drop off everyone was happy.


View from top of the pass. You can see the Nicoya peninsula and Golf of Nicoya off in the distance


View towards Monteverde, You can see all the clouds hovering over the "cloud forest"


We eventually arrived in Santa Elena, where Carly had booked us a cool little apartment complete with kitchen so we could cook most of our meals. We settled in and got to eatin' and drinking.

View from the apartment


Next morning we were up early to see the sights. First thing first. Coffee.


The coffee is served in traditional Costa Rican style. The device is called a "Chorreador" and consists of a cotton bag which is filled with grounds and hot water is poured through.

As you can see, Carly is very excited about the coffee. Yes... Yess!


Finished product. Delicious


After getting our caffeine boost we headed to the "Butterfly Garden". I was thinking... Ohhh great. Butterflies. This is going to be lame. Suprisingly enough it turned out to be very interesting. We got to see and interact with some cool butterflies and bugs.

Lauren's Momma with a Blue Morpho


The girls got to release some freshly hatched? butterflies into the garden.


More pics, vids, and the rest of the story on the blog at http://homeonthehighway.com/mommaverde-and-puerto-viejo-costa-rica/

We were up with the roosters in Puerto Viejo. We had to truck it from the Caribbean coast back to the interior of Costa Rica to pick up Lauren's dad from San Jose airport.

We waved goodbye to the Atlantic knowing soon enough we would be seeing the waters of the Pacific. One of my favorite parts about Central America is you can drive from ocean to ocean in one day. Bored of the Caribbean? Let's check out the Pacific!

After we grabbed Lauren's dad we headed out to the Pacific. First order of business, Lunch and drinks!




Lunch visitor


After fueling up we headed to Playa Bejuco, Costa Rica. A small little beachside community south of Jaco and north of Manuel Antonio. A perfect basecamp for relaxing on the beach and taking in the sights. This time Carly found a nice little beachhouse for us to stay in while Laurens dad visited.


We unloaded our junk and hit the beach!




We spent the next week exploring the area and eating/drinking our faces off! My favorite kind of activity.

Ed working the grill. These Central American coals take finesse!


Poolside c-cktails


Many an Imperial were drank. The official beer of Costa Rica.


Every night was spent beachside watching the amazing sunsets.


We were there for the "Super Moon" as well.



View from the El Avion restaurant.


It was nice to take life in the slow lane and enjoy some family time.




After a week of hanging out in Playa Bejuco it was back to the airport once again to drop off Lauren's folks and prepare to pick my Mom up the next day.

I am getting to know the San Jose Airport pretty intimately....

[Edited on 6-19-2012 by defrag4]

ENJOY !!

I drove a 23 c/class with a small cat down there and back !! good times and some aftermath !! are you going to drive back north ?? so far..I'm the only fool that anybody has ever heard of doing so!! but I lived !!thank ya lord !! K&T

I am now following a "spin-off" group called Drive Nacho Drive.





I love the drama!

After dropping off Lauren's Dad and Sister we prepped for my Mom's arrival.

Originally the plan was to take her around in the 4Runner but after a hell-raising few days of dealing with a mentally unstable mechanic who will further be referred to as "Bill the Butcher". We threw in the towel and got another rental car. More on that later...

We grabbed Mom and headed out to Dominical, Costa Rica. I have a long-lost Uncle who has been running the Bella Vista Lodge out here in the jungle since the mid-70's. However, none of us had ever been.

We learned that he recently leased it out to another ex-pat named Bert. We arrived not knowing exactly what to expect.

What we found was a wonderful blend of the mountains, jungle, and the ocean. Basically, We found paradise.


Every sunset was matched with "Sundowners" of course.


Toucan's would wake us up each morning with their distinct call. In the background, you could hear the howler monkeys hooting a response.


We spent a few days at Berts, relaxing, taking in the nearby beaches and doing some horseback riding through the mountains with my long lost cousin.

Some of the gorgeous Costa Rican countryside and jungle we rode through.




We parked the horses and started hiking out to a secret waterfall

We crossed the river via this crazy trolley my Uncle rigged up years ago


Mama enjoying the wild ride


Our reward for our hike. We swam in the crystal clear and COLD waters of the falls. It was a refreshing dip after a long ride and hike


On the way bike we found this beautiful Strawberry poison dart frog. It was about the size of a dime and BRIGHT red. Don't touch!


More of the story and the rest of the pics on the blog at http://homeonthehighway.com/mamadukes-visits-costa-rica/

hola

hi,on the toyota its easy to pull the codes witha paper clip and will tell you if your TPS is bad or not..but scrolling down I see pics of a volkswagonI drove down to panama and back and as a mech know what its like to find parts..can we say "NIGHTMARE" if you need help with the toyota your can u2u me..if its a volkswagon throw it away and get a real car...K&T

LOL...ya.I sometimes hate being right!!

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I have sat down to write this post 3 different times. It is such a convoluted story and I am so peeed off every time I write it that I just end up mashing the keyboard with intelligible nonsense. Here goes Round #4

A few blog posts back I had mentioned we were having problems with the 4Runner running properly. It did not have much power above 3K RPMS. The Check Engine Light was on and throwing an O2 sensor and a TPS sensor code. Simple enough I thought? Ill throw a new O2 and TPS on there and see how she runs.

Well it turned out finding parts in Costa Rica was harder than I expected.

Luckily our friends from DriveNachoDrive whom we were staying with were recently recommended an ex-pat mechanic in Atenas, Costa Rica. They had just left their van with him to get some work done. I figured it would be easy to have him track down and install the parts of my truck as well.

We ended up meeting Bill up at Brad's house. Seemed like a nice enough guy and we discussed what needed to be done and my hard date of 2 weeks when I would need the truck back to make airport runs and take my Mom around Costa Rica in the 4Runner.

No problem! Have her done in just a few days.

Sounds good! We left our baby in his hands and tooled around Costa Rica via rental car with Laurens parents for the next few weeks.

So far so good right?

Well... Brad would walk/hitch a ride down to Bill's shop every few days to check on the progress of our vehicle repairs. Despite much pleading and prodding he was sorry to report that after the first week nothing had been accomplished on either one of our trucks.

OK, I guess he does have another week to get the job done...

Unfortunately after having our truck for almost 2 entire weeks Brad reports that practically nothing at all had been done to it. He said they managed to finally pop the hood and start wrenching on random things but had no luck in tracking down a new TPS.

Fed up and in need of my truck to make an airport run the next day, I phoned Bill from Playa Bejuco and asked him to return the truck to Brad's house in Atenas and forget about the whole thing. After all, the truck still ran decent enough to get us around for the past month or so.

Bill assured me that he would have all the parts that day and have it up to Brad's early the next morning before we arrived to head to the airport. I reluctantly agreed to this...

Next morning we pull up to Brad's house in the rental expecting to see the truck. It's not there.

We call Bill. He doesn't answer.

WHERE THE HELL IS MY TRUCK?

I go into panic mode. We had less than an hour to put Laurens Dad and sister on a plane. The only car we had is the rental which needed to be returned. We would end up stranded down there without the 4Runner.

Brad felt bad but with his truck stuck in the same situation he couldn't offer a ride. I call in a favor from our buddies over at <a href="http://www.liferemotely.com" target="_blank[/img]LifeRemotely.com</a> who graciously agree to cancel their plans for the day and scoop us up from the airport after we drop the rental and put the family on the plane.

OK mild crisis adverted. It's good to have friends.

We get back from the airport, wave goodbye to Life Remotely, and start blowing up Bill's phone. No answer.

WHERE THE HELL IS MY TRUCK!?

Brad and I hatch a plan to walk down to his shop, about 5 miles away and start busting skulls and steal our trucks back.

The phone suddenly rings. It's Bill.



"Oh hey! My partner Rick is on a parts run, We should have it all done this afternoon."

BILL, WHAT THE HELL!? I NEEDED THE CAR THIS MORNING! WHAT HAPPENED!?

Oh, It wasn't running right so we couldn't bring it.

NO PHONE CALL BILL!?

We'll have it done this afternoon.

BILL! FORGET IT! JUST BRING ME MY TRUCK

OK OK I'll bring it up to you this afternoon as soon as Rick gets back.

BILL I AM BEGGING YOU I NEED MY DAMN TRUCK TODAY. MY MOM WILL BE AT THE AIRPORT AT 10AM TOMORROW AND I NEED TO PICK HER UP!

No problem, No problem, I'll have it for you this afternoon.

FINE!



I drink a few beers to calm down. We head over to LifeRemotely's pad for some dinner and await Bill's call that the truck is on its way to the house.

4PM. No call
5PM. No call
6PM. No call
7PM. No call. I start calling Bill.

Phone rings 3 times, then goes to voicemail.
I call back. Straight to voicemail!

BILL IS HIDING FROM ME, WHAT IN THE F!

I ring back 3-5 more times, still straight to voicemail.

WHERE THE HELL IS MY TRUCK!!!?

I start frantically pacing the floor imagine my truck being chopped to bits and shipped off to various parts of the globe. What is this man doing to my poor baby? What in the hell is going on!?

Brad mentions he has this "partner Rick's" phone number and maybe we should call him and see if he knows what is going on since he supposedly went on the parts run today.

I phone Rick.



Hey Rick, This is James with the 4Runner. You heard from Bill or know anything about my truck?
WHY THE F ARE YOU CALLING ME!? I DONT EVEN KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THIS TRUCK. I DONT EVEN KNOW WHO THE F YOU ARE.
Uh... Ok calm down buddy
MY SISTER JUST DIED AND I JUST FLEW BACK FROM FLORIDA. I HAVE NEVER EVEN SEEN YOUR F'N TRUCK
Uh... Bill said you were getting parts for it today
F YOU CALLING ME UP HERE WHEN MY SISTER DIED I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR F'N TRUCK
Uh....
F YOU!
*CLICK*



I stare wide-eyed back at Brad who was listening to the manic screaming on the other end...

I tell Brad what just went down on the phone. Brad tells me he has personally seen Rick working on my truck twice. So his story makes no sense....

WHERE THE HELL IS MY TRUCK!?

We again start hatching a plan to break into the orphanage (I did mention Bill butcher "shop" is actually just a covered garage area next to an children orphanage?) and steal my truck back that night.

Thoughts of a rapey Costa Rican jailhouse and 2 lanky gringos caught busting into an orphanage full of little kids quickly squelch that idea from our mind.

OK NEW PLAN, TOMORROW MORNING WE GO DOWN THERE AND STEAL MY TRUCK BACK AND GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE!
YA!!!

We all rally around and continue drinking, plotting the battle versus "BILL THE BUTCHER" and his sidekick "Rick".
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We wake up at 6AM the next morning, Dress in all black (Looking back dressing in black doesn't help much during daytime capers...) We grab 2 crowbars, a lance, and a rabbit pelt from the garage and head towards the door. Prepared for battle.
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Phone rings. It's Bill.

Hey guys! Going to come by the house and pick you up to take you to the shop.

No apology, No explanation, No recognition of anything being wrong whatsoever. I start to think this man may just have severe mental problems.

We decided to play it cool, let's catch the ride down to the shop and I will just drive my truck away. We put away our spears and lances.

About 30 minutess later, Bill pulls up cheery as can be as if nothing was amiss. I say nothing to him, fuming in the backseat just hoping I can get quickly get my truck as far away from this madman as possible.

We pull up to the orphanage, little kids running around happily playing. Not realizing there is a group of lunatic mechanics working just feet from their paradise.

My truck comes into view. I run up to her with my toolbag.

Are you OK!? My poor baby! My poor baby! Daddys here. Daddys here. Everything is going to be alright.

I start the truck. More to say. I try to start the truck. It barely turns over and when it does it is running HORRIBLE. Barely able to stay running unless I work the throttle like a madman. The RPMs swaying frantically from 100RPM to 5000RPM in a state of utter confusion.

WHAT HAS HE DONE TO YOU!!!?

I jump out and examine the carnage under the hood. Oily paw prints all over every sensor, hose, and clamp. Nothing properly tightened. I can tell every sensor has been messed with, the TPS is limply dangling from its screws, the sealed AirFlowMeter has been pried open and fondled. Vacuum hoses hacked, slashed, and lying unplugged across the engine bay.

Oh god, Oh god. My poor baby. I just want to get you out of here. Tell me where the bad man touched you...


I start trying to repair her as best I can to at least limp it out of this house of horrors.

A few minutes into me repairing the truck... Guess who shows up. Crazy ass Rick!

He makes no recognition of my presence. I make none of his. Just focus diligently putting my baby back together.

About 10 minutes later I hear Bill talking to Rick about something. Rick starts cursing at Bill saying

WHAT THE F IS THAT GUY DOING HERE!?
IS HE PAYING US TO USE OUR GARAGE!?
TELL HIM TO PAY US OR GET THE F OUT OF HERE!

I grip the heavy socket wrench in my hand tightly, visions of swinging it down on Rick's face like the hammer of Thor run through my mind.

No James, focus. focus. You gotta get outta here.

I tighten the last bolt, jump in and start the truck.

Oh man she is still running absolutely horrible. But she is running enough to move now. I pop her in reverse and pull out of the bay lurching and bucking like a wild bronco.

I'm sorry baby, It's for your own good. We gotta get you away from these butchers.

I walk up to Brad, whisper to him I am getting the HELL outta dodge. He nods in reply but says nothing not wanting to set off any alarms with these two madman.

I say to Bill, "Going for a testrun!"

Then I lurch and buck the truck up the hill and out of the orphanage. The truck is running so poorly that I have to keep it in 4LO to get enough gearing to climb even the most docile of hills.

I throw the CAUTION lights on and limp my poor girl the 5 miles back to Brad's house. It takes me 45 minutes of stalling, clutch slipping, and basically raping my truck to get her home. She screams in protest but I assure its for her own good.

When I finally make it home Lauren is waiting in the driveway, She runs out and hugs the truck. I open the door and collapse in a heap on the ground.

What a friggin day. It's not even 9AM yet.... and we have to be at the airport in less than an hour...

welcome to costa rico !!!

sorry bout your night mare...do you know where the ALDL/diagnostic connector is ??? facing the engine compartment and on your left is a small black box that may or may not have a cover...its about a foot or so forward of the fire wall.and is fastened next to the hood runner and a inch long & 3/4 wide..get a tooth brush and some diesel/karasine and clean the electrical connectors good and let dry..The toys left the plant with a lith grease on the contacts and needs to be cleaned up first..if yours ,still has the lid.look under the lid and see the pin map ??? If you dont see it.let me know and I will try and post a pic of it so you can pull the codes..Really simple..P.S. love thoses TICAS K & T PS..you also need a regular paper clip!! find one asap!!

[Edited on 6-27-2012 by captkw]

[Edited on 6-27-2012 by captkw]

[Edited on 6-27-2012 by captkw]

SI claro

HOLA, when you get a code.that means the ecm is reading a bad value.not that the parts is bad..aka.bad connections,frayed wire.a.. host of things and drum roll please !! yes and a bad part/sensor . usally on a toy those two items wont make the truck run as bad as you descibe and both of those parts are easy to test with a DVM.. K&T " toyota speciel service tool"

[Edited on 6-27-2012 by captkw]

"roger" staying tuned..lol

hey ,maybe you can run over to tamarindo and see if any of the kids resemble me !! nevermind !!

[Edited on 6-28-2012 by captkw]

[Edited on 6-28-2012 by captkw]

Ain't it the truth!!

Oh, what a feeling!

toys

Costa Rica is a beautiful country, jammed full of amazing wildlife and breathtaking scenery. It is a safe, well-developed country, with fine infrastructure. It has become the #1 tourism destination in Central America for good reason. That being said, We were getting tired of running the "gringo circuit" and having every place we show up be overrun with tourists, price gouging tour operators, eco-tour this, eco-tour that. Where was the REAL Costa Rica? Someplace that hasn't yet been bombarded by ex-pats looking to make a buck off of milk-faced tourists coming down on holiday. We were hunting for someplace where the smooth pavement ends and the true Costa Rican jungle takes back over.

When we last met up with our Costa Rican friend Erick, we were planning a 4x4 trip out to the "Osa Peninsula". Dubbed Costa Rica's last wilderness frontier, The Osa is rich in wildlife, sparsely populated and, until recently, very difficult to access. Much of this densely forested area is conserved in national parks and private reserves. Here, towering rainforests line undeveloped beaches and untouched coves, making this region one of the most beautiful anywhere on Earth.

Osa as seen from space



We loaded up the 4Runner and Erick loaded up his Nissan and we headed out from San Jose towards the jungle.


We are humming along when all of the sudden a huge thunderstorm hits us. It is coming down in sheets, we can barely see the road in front of us. I am losing sight of Erick who I am following out to the Osa, when all of the sudden the 4Runner bucks and then completely dies. Try to turn it back over and it just cranks and cranks but never turns over. Great.... broke down in a thunderstorm.

Luckily Erick's truck is equipped with a HAM radio setup and he had given me a Walkie, So I radio up to him that I am having some issues and he circles back.

We jump out in the rainstorm and pop the hood trying to figure out what the hell is going out. Getting soaked to the bone in the process...

After some fiddling I realize that while driving down the bumpy and rutted roads the MAF sensor plug has wiggled itself free. Plug it back in and hit with a few zipties and we are back in action! I think 90% of our truck is held together by zipties at this point...

We cruise along the Osa peninsula with no real destination in mind. We eventually decide to head out to "Bahia Drake".

We arrived in Drake and find a small fishing village with a beautiful rainforest lined sandy cove.


We drive right out onto the beach and setup camp for the night.



We share some beers and celebrate our arrival on the peninsula. We are honored with a beautiful sunset over the bay.


The Osa peninsula is one of the wettest places on earth, getting hit with an average of 360 inches of rain per year. It doesn't take long till she starts dumping once again and cuts our celebration short. We both retreat into our individual homes for the night.

Next morning we are up early eager to explore more of the Osa. Erick talks to a local fellow who gives him the scoop on a beautiful beach that we need to go check out. He says the road out there is pretty rough with lots of river crossings. Excellent!!









We make it to our secret beach. A beautiful palm lined beach with not a soul to be seen.


More pics and the rest of the story on the blog at http://homeonthehighway.com/headed-to-the-osa-peninusula/

It had been far to long since we did some backpacking and Lauren and I were getting very excited to visit Costa Rica's Corcovado National park. Corcavado is located on the isolated and undeveloped Osa peninsula. It is considered the crown jewel of the Costa Rican park system. Corcovado contains the largest primary rainforest on the entire Pacific coastline and the largest lowland tropical rainforest in the world. National Geographic called it "the most biologically intense place on EARTH". We were stoked.

We signed up for a 2-day permit at the park office located in Puerto Jimenez and picked up a trail-map. The cost was $10 per person/per day plus $3 per day for camping. There are also meals available at the Sirena Ranger station. However, meals must be scheduled far in advance and are very costly due to the necessity of all supplies to be packed/flown/boated into the remote ranger station.

The next morning we loaded up our backpacks with food and gear, parked our truck at a crotchety old ex-pats tienda near the trailhead and started off down the beach.



The ranger informed us when we signed up for the hike that it was around 20KM (12.5 miles) or so total to the Sirena ranger station where we would be camping. The hike is a mix of beach hiking and rain forest trail. Trudging along through the wet sand, Lauren and I were immediately reminded of our backpacking trip on California's Lost Coast


The scenery was breath-taking. Tropical rainforest butted right up to the pristine beach. Similar to the Lost Coast, we had to be wary of the tides. There are 2 stretches of beach that could only be crossed during low-tide. Get stuck in the middle when the ocean comes up and you are shark food.



Within 2-minutes of hitting the trail we started to see our first wildlife.

A Coati(sort of like a tropical raccoon) is feeding on the beach.


They say hermit crabs are signs of a healthy beach. I would say this one is in pretty good shape...


Continuing along the beach we crossed a few small rivers and streams leading out of the jungle into the ocean.





We continued hiking through the sand and made it to our first beach pass. Tide coming up on us already? We are going to have to boogie if we want to get through the second pass before the tide is too high.


Making it through our first stretch of beach hiking we cut up into the rain forest. Immediately the temperature drops 15F and the intense sounds of jungle replace the sound of waves crashing the shore.






The forest is full of thousands of "Halloween Crabs" who make their burrows in the soft soils of the rainforest. They scatter as we approach filling the forest with the noise of claws scratching on the trees, branches, and deadfall of the woods.


We are deep in gigantic old growth rainforest.




We are peacefully walking along taking in the sights and smells of the woods when suddenly Lauren screams and stops dead in her tracks.

I run up to see what the hell is going on, She stops me and whispers. "I think I just saw a jaguar" Nonsense, I think. Jaguars are extremely rare and a nocturnal creature.

She points through the trees. Sure enough I see a black cat with long tail and piercing eyes staring back at us. DAMN! It is a jaguar!

The cat stares back at us nonchalantly then takes a few steps into a clearing. I see now that it is certainly not big enough to be a jaguar but definitely some sort of large black feline. Lauren steps back to safety behind a tree. I on the other hand grab the camera and inch closer as she whispers "What the hell are you doing!?"

The cat is just sitting there staring back at us... in perfect view for a picture. I ready the camera, aim, focus, fire. *BEEP BEEP BEEP*. The serine silence of the forest is broken by a mysterious foreign sound. The cat bolts into the jungle. I look down at the camera which reads MEMORY CARD FULL. The forested mountainside echos with the sounds of me cursing at the top of my lungs.

We later learn that what we encountered was not a jaguar but actually a "Jaguarundi". Someone with a larger memory card than us snapped this photo of one.


We have encountered small bobcats before in the wild but certainly nothing as strange, exotic, and possibly man-eating as this. Our senses are on high-alert now. I grab a stick for protection, Lauren huddles behind me, and we press further into the jungle. The fact that we are the strangers in a strange land fully sinks in. This part of the world is still extremely wild and we are the intruders. We suddenly get the feeling we are being watched as we traipse through the woods.

*CRASH* The sound of breaking limbs, branches fall from the sky, and the forest fills with screeches and screams. We jump 5ft backwards then stare into the tree-tops. We find an entire troop of 15 white-faced capuchin monkeys swinging and playing around. We spot one lazily munching on bananas. My mind was blown as we stared at the stereotypical "monkey eating a banana" scene play out in front of us. I thought this stuff only happened in cartoons!




Eventually we break out of the woods and back onto the beach. The beaming sun was a warm-welcome after our harrowing time in the dark jungle. Unfortunately, We had taken far to long lollygagging around getting attacked by Jaguarundis and staring at monkeys in the rainforest. The tides had risen quite a bit and we found ourselves at the beginning of the second stretch of beach that was impassable during high-tide. By the looks of it we had maybe 30-minutes before high-tide was in full swing.



We had 2 choices.
Number one. Make a run for it and hope to cross the mile-long strech of beach before the tides reach the cliff-walls and drag us out to sea.
Number Two. Wait out the tide for hours and possibly end up spending the night in the man-eating jaguar infested jungle.

We looked at the beach, We looked at the jungle. We looked at each other. Then started running.

We sprinted as fast as we could with our 30Lb backpacks down the beach as the waves crashed inches from our heels. As we advanced we were pressed further and further towards the cliff-wall. Eventually the ocean was too high, we could not go any further. To our right was a semi-dried up waterfall to the left was the ocean bearing down on us. We scrambed up the dry waterfall and bushwacked it through the jungle.

Eventually we found a faint trail. Exhausted we through down our backpacks and enjoyed a victory meal of crackers and tuna fish. We had made it through the second pass.

The trail wound through the woods a bit then came right back down the beach but further in the trees away from the tide.




Palm tree being born from a coconut


We continued our trek until we come to our third and final obstacle. The Rio Claro.

The ranger had mentioned the river contained crocodiles and BULL sharks. But what he failed to mention was that it was over waist-deep and over 50ft wide during high-tide which was of course... when we got there.




We walked up and down the river bank trying to determine the best area to cross. Further into the forest the river was slow but very deep and wide. We figured our chances were high to be eaten by crocs or sharks before we made it to the other side.

Closer towards the ocean, the river was not as deep or wide, however when the ocean tide crashed into the river mouth it ripped the current so fast the banks were eroding and we watched 400LB fallen trees trunks being drug out into the ocean.

We knew the Sirena ranger station was less than 1/2 mile past this damn river. If we did not make it across we would have to sleep in the jungle, which at this point was not an option.

I threw down my pack, grabbed a stick, and stood on the river bank watching the tide come into the river mouth. If we timed it right we would be able to cross when the river was low, the tide was slow, and the crossing would be simple. If we timed it wrong and the tide crashed into the mouth while we were crossing there was a high probability we would be pulled out to sea.

I waited for the tide to slow and stepped off the bank into the river, I slowly picked my way across the river with the water coming up about waist-high. As I was half-way across I looked up and yelled to Lauren "Hey, A crocodile!" and pointed towards a large croc resting about 40ft in front of me near the river bank. No big deal...

I made it safely across with no drama aside from the croc sighting. OK, Well now we know its possible. I waited for the tide to recede again and crossed back.

We hitched our packs up as high as possible on our backs, waited for the tide to calm, looked around for the croc who had since vanished, and stepped in.

We were slowly picking our way across when all of the sudden, ROUGE WAVE. The river mouth started to flood with ocean water and the current began ripping the sandy river bottom from beneath our feet. I abandoned my crossing stick and turned to see Lauren stumbling and about to go face first into the ripping river. I grabbed her by the pack as she fell forward and drug her along as we clamored up the opposite river bank.

We made it! We sat on the bank for a while catching our breath and checking out our packs. The bottoms had gotten wet a bit but overall were suprisngly fairly dry. Luckily Lauren fell forward instead of backwards, she got her clothes soaked but her bag stayed dry.

I took this moment to remindLauren this is the 2nd time I have saved her from dying in a river. She was almost swept away once before while hiking the Rae Lakes loop back in the Sierra mountains of California. Yes, I am a pretty awesome boyfriend.

We collected ourselves and trudged on as the sun was setting, 1/2 a mile later we came upon a clearing in the woods.

We had never been so happy to see a clap-boarded weathered station! Sirena Station, How we loved you!




We sat for a while taking in the whole experience and resting our bones in the old reclining chairs on the front porch of the station.


Set up our tent on the elevated covered platforms, stripped out of our wet and stinky clothes, and had one of the best sleeps of the entire trip.

The sounds of howler monkeys and squawking macaws woke us in the morning. We made some coffee and suited up to trek around the various trails found around the station.



Lauren and I are avid hikers and backpackers. We have visited tons of parks, reserves, wildlife areas, etc. Never in our life have we seen anywhere close to the amount of wildlife that we saw in Corcavado. It is literal zoo without cages out here. You are constantly stumbling across natures creatures just going about their business in the wild. It is an amazing place.

Spider monkeys crawling in the trees.




More Coatis running across the trail.


And my favorite sighting of the trip. A wild Tapir munching away in the jungle. We were less than 5ft away from him. He did not have a care in the world and just kept on grazing as we snapped photos.



That night we were visited by all kinds of weird, giant and interesting bugs I have never seen before.

A gigantic grasshopper.



This crazy flying leaf looking bug


HUGE flying c-ckroach


Unfortunately all good things must come to an end and the next morning we packed up from the platform as we prepared to set off.


We made some new friends at the station and we all decided to set off back to Carina together.


Back down the beach we go. This time we timed it perfectly and all the beach/river crossings were easy.






Not done with the wildlife yet! We saw an ant-eater plodding along through the forest.


Stopped for some beach-side fresh coconuts.


Not a bad view for a break.


Also spotted some poison dart frogs along the trail




We passed the final ranger station on the way back to Carina where we stopped for a break.


While resting we spotted a weird bird. Upon closer inspection, it was actually not a bird but a GIGANTIC moth. This moth is called the "White Witch Moth" and has the largest wing-span of any insect in the world.




We hiked the last stretch of beach in silence. Taking in the jungle, the beach, and the last few days experience. If you are a biology/nature lover you need to get your butt down to Corcovado National Park. I guarantee you will not come away disappointed. The hike out to Sirena station is challenging but worth every step.

Back to the truck, we loaded our stinky gear and headed to Puerto Jimenez where we got a cheap motel and enjoyed a long hot shower.

The next day we hit the road, Destination: PANAMA.

We booked it south from the Osa and were soon at the border of Costa Rica-Panama.

Within an hour or so we had gotten all our paperwork squared away, changed some Costa Rican colones into U.S. dollars (the official currency of Panama) and drove on in. Country #9. Our friends at fromatob.org have a nice writeup on"How to cross the Costa Rica-Panama border with a truck".

BIENVENIDOS!


A few friends of ours had crossed the border a few days earlier and told us of a town called Boquete nestled high up in the mountains. After spending the last few weeks in sweltering jungle temps we were looking forward to a few days of cool weather. We bee-lined it for Boquete.

Boquete is a small town in the highlands of Panama. It's cool weather makes it very popular with Panama tourists and ex-pats alike. The dormant and normally cloud-covered Volcan Baru dominates the skyline above Boquete. It is the highest point in all of Panama.



Our guidebook mentioned that most of Volcan Baru was protected national park land. It also mentioned a 4x4 road to the Volcano peak, elusive Quetzal bird sightings, and camping possibilities. We were sold. I guided the truck through the town and started snaking up through some small fincas and houses towards the volcano.

We arrived at the ranger shack around 5PM, jumped out and told the guard we were going to drive the 4x4 to the top. He started laughing. I pointed out the window to the 4runner and he said "Oh. We'll you can try" and wrote us up some permits. I wondered just how bad this road was going to be...

We drove up the gravel road which quickly turned to dirt then to straight up rocks and boulders. Maybe the ranger wasn't so crazy after all. We were less than 1/4 mile past the guard station when I first had to engage 4x4.



Example of the road-bed


The scenery was beautiful though. Mountainous cloud forest surrounded us. We inched along up the road navigated around and over gigantic boulders. At one point we took a shortcut through a farmers land to avoid a treacherous looking section of the trail.





After about an hour of driving the sun started to set. We had only driven about 1 mile and had not found any campsites. However, we also had not seen another soul and by the conditions of the road I doubted any joyriders would be making their way up the mountain. We pulled over and setup camp on the side of the trail.



View from our campsite. We are deep in pristine cloud forest, perfect Resplendent Quetzal country.



Made a nice meal and went to sleep in downright chilly weather. It was 45F according to our thermometer. Coldest weather we have been in for quite some time. Had to brush the dust off the sleeping bags and thermal underwear!

I woke in the morning with one thing in mind. QUETZALS.



Those of you following the blog know that we have been trying to see this damn elusive bird for months now. We have traveled through 6 countries that claim to have Quetzals but have yet to see one. We did catch a glimpse of a female back in Costa Rica but the male is what everyone is after. Volcan Baru was our last chance. The rest of Panama was lowlands and they do not exist in South America. It was basically now or NEVER.

I am sitting on the tailgate sippin come coffee when all of the sudden I hear a familar bird call way off in the trees. Could it be!? Back in Costa Rica we were on a quetzal hunting tour with a guide who was making the call himself. I sneakily recorded it on my phone for later use. I jumped in the front seat and played the recording. AN EXACT MATCH! Solid proof that Quetzals do exist out here.



I sat back on the tailgate listening, hearing nothing for a while. Disheartened I started playing the call on my own phone, hoping to lure in some horny males searching for a morning piece. After 10 minutes of messing with my phone and getting no where an idea strikes me.

I get back in the truck, turn on the radio and hook the AUX cable up to my phone. Now I am cranking the call out with 750Watts of goodness. The forest fills with the sound of my female call.

Female Quetzal Call Recording
Quetzal Call

I play it about 5 times and wait. All of the sudden, I hear a strange call I have never heard before. I scan the trees. I hear the call again, this time directly above me. I look up. A iridescent green bird with a blood-red breast, yellow beak and gorgeous 3ft long tail looks curiously down at me. <strong>I crap my pants.</strong>

I whisper/yell for Lauren to get out of the truck. She looks up and can't believe her eyes. It is a damn male Quetzal hanging out directly above our home.

I fumble for the camera and pop off a few shots for proof. I knew none of our overlanding friends were going to believe us if we didn't have solid proof. After all they have been on their own quests to see the bird for months. By this point most of them had decided that the bird is a myth and does not really exist.

Unfortunately our camera has a crappy zoom and it was pretty dark under the forest canopy. Its not winning any NatGeo photo contest but there is no doubt, MALE QUETZAL, IN YO FACE.





Excited as 2 kids in a candy shop we watched the male Quetzal as he made desperate calls trying to find this She-Beast of a giant female quetzal. After all what other birds voice is backed by a 750Watt amp?

Eventually he grew bored and flew off in search of a good time somewhere else.

We started up the calls again, this time even louder. You had to be able to hear the call for at least 1/2 mile in the mountain.

We waited, soon enough we saw another, then another, then another. At one point we had 3 male Quetzals above our heads BATTLING each other to claim this sexy silver Toyota Quetzal/4Runner.

Truly amazing, after searching for months and months we finally had more male quetzals than we knew what to do with. We sat there for 2 hours just messing with the poor males as they flew in from miles around to see what was up with the new lady in the neighborhood.

Eventually they wised up and word spread quick that it was just 2 jack-ass gringos messing around in the forest and they stopped showing up. We decided to try to drive up to the top of the Volcano.

We drove about 1/4 mile further when the road degraded to straight up 4x4 rock crawling expedition. Being out in the middle of nowhere, alone, and with no ability to get ourselves back out if we were to break the truck we decided to stop and hoof it on foot. If we had a partner we would have gone further, I think the 4Runner coulda made it.



I prefer driving, but walkings OK. I guess....


The cloud forest was full of life and we saw tons of other birds, even a few more male quetzals.




Later that night we are lying in the truck watching some scary movie. A big lightning storm is raging outside. Thunder shaking the truck like a tin-can. I start to get concerned about a damn tree falling on the truck...

Back to watching the movie when *BAM* something crashes into the truck so damn loud and strong Lauren and I jump and hit our heads on the roof. It scared the crap outta us. I roll down the rear-window in the rain and shine around with my flashlight. Sure enough, a big chunk of branch had broken off the tree above and came crashing into the roof of the 4Runner.

Not having anywhere to go or much we could to about it, We hoped for the best and went to sleep, the storm stopped soon after.

A pic of the branch in the morning.


New speed dents in the cab over the driverside


We spent 3 nights up in the forest parked right on the side of the road. We saw no other people and only 1 truck, a gigantic old school Ford with 40 inch tires and chains slowly crawling up with a bunch of forest workers in the back. They gave us a thumbs-up for making it this far up and kept on crawling.

If male quetzals are what you seek. Take the recording I posted on this blog and get your butt out to Volcan Baru. They are there waiting for you!

We packed up and hit the road. Destination: Panama City.

We are meeting some new friends and preparing to ship the truck across the "Darien Gap" via container ship from Panama to Colombia.

KEN

ken

Here in the US of A, you can also have problems from good 'ole boys with a chip on their shoulders - that sort of thing seems universal, at least. I do have a few different Lonely Planet books - my 'Colombia' features the writings of Thomas Kohnstamm - the author who claimed that Lonely Planet sanctioned his "Authors desk" updates - http://www.thomaskohnstamm.com/. When there is plenty of time and money flows, I'll outfit the Rubicon with a new set of mud tires, some comfy Master Craft seats, Satellite radio and a new MP3 player and just go for it.

ROGER!! GOOD COPY ON ALL!!

BEFORE YOU GO LET ME KNOW AND I'LL U2U MY LL# AND SHARE MY 11 MONTH TRIP DOWN THERE!!! BTW,, TICA'S ROCK !!! K & T

Quote:

Originally posted by captkw BEFORE YOU GO LET ME KNOW AND I'LL U2U MY LL# AND SHARE MY 11 MONTH TRIP DOWN THERE!!! BTW,, TICA'S ROCK !!! K & T

Thanks, K&T! Yes, I was bit by the bug and am married to a Colombiana.

KEN

HOLA,,GOOD ON YA MATE !! THE GALS DOWN THERE ARE "MUY LINDA" AND ARE REAL!! I WOULD SUGGEST A LONGER WHEEL BASE THAN A CJ-5 AND I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT A RUBE...BUT ITS A LONG TRIP TO THE ITHIMUS AND I CAN OFFER SOME ROAD TRICKS IF NEEDED BEFORE YOU GO!! K & T

It definitely sounds like an adventure. I'll keep you posted...another 20 years from now, at least...

The Pan-American Highway, a series of roads linking the great white North of Prudhoe Bay, Alaska all the way down to the southern-most reaches of Ushuaia, Argentina. At a total length of just under 30,000 miles, Guinness Book of World Records marks it the "World Longest Motor-able" road. Yes-siree, 30,000 miles of awesomeness all navigable with nothing but 4 wheels, a tank of gas, and a sense of adventure.

Except... Except.... Except 54 damn miles of impenetrable jungle full of beasts, FARC rebels, impassable mountain terrain, and native tribes who are rumored to still dabble in cannibalism. I am of course talking about the "Darien Gap". The little stretch of jungle that separates Panama from Colombia. The little stretch of jungle that has created much headache for all overlanders headed south.

Panama City is where overlanders must arrange shipping around this swath of rainforest. I would say it tops the list of all overland PanAm travelers fears (the ones that have gotten over the whole kidnapping/beheading nonsense at least). Imagine loading your baby into a dark box, hoisting her high into the air, placing her among thousands of strangers, and setting her off to sea... Not to mention travelers have been stuck without their vehicles for months, forced to pay exorbitant fees, and there have been some whose trucks never showed up at all! Lauren and I approached the city with trepidation knowing what lies in store.

As we came upon the sprawling metropolis full of gigantic skyscrapers, super highways, and malls I was instantly reminded of my home city of Miami, Florida. Mix in everybody speaking Spanish and driving like crap and I really felt like I was back home!




We had a few goals for the big city of Panama. #1 See the Panama Canal. #2 Arrange shipping from Panama to Colombia.

We made some friends off the internet who had been traveling south as well. <a href="http://www.adventuretheamericas.com/[/img]Adventure the Americas</a> is a group of 3 friends who set off in a 4runner from Colorado and are now in Panama City. Pretty cool.. even cooler when you think only 3 weeks ago they were still in Colorado. Yes you read that right. In 3 weeks they managed to drive all the way from Colorado to Panama. A process that took Lauren and I over 7 months to complete! We told them they were crazy. They told us their plan is to circumnavigate the entire continent of South America and return home to Colorado in only 6 months! Then we told them they were just F'n nuts.

Aside from being crazy they turned out to be pretty cool dudes and we instantly hit it off. We spent the night sharing beers, swapping stories, and scheming our plan to ship around the gap together. It is cheaper to double-up and place 2 trucks inside 1 container. They had already laid some of the ground work for the process, found a shipping company, and begin the initial paperwork. These guys were fast.

Team Adventure the Americas and yours truly.


Since it was the weekend and we could not move forward with any of the process we decided to do some sightseeing.

First off we headed out to the walled-city of Casco Viejo. Panama City's historic district. It was built in 1673 after the old Panama City was completely destroyed by the dastardly pirate Henry Morgan (Yes of Captain Morgan rum fame) and his crew. Casco Viejo was declared a World Heritage Site in 1997. The area itself was getting quite run-down for a while and is now undergoing massive remodeling and restoration. It was crammed to the gills with beautiful colonial architectural, ornate churches, palaces, and now hip bars/restaurants. There is also a seedy side to the place which I can only imagine will get shoved out as real-estate values increase. Ahh progress.




After scoping out the city we headed up to a large forested area called Ancon Hill. Ancon Hill was under U.S. jurisdiction as part of the Panama Canal project and thus avoided urban development. It is an odd island of green surrounded by the urban sprawl of the city below.



We had read that the hill is home to monkeys, sloths, deers, and all kinds of wildlife cut off from any other jungle. Our friends from Adventure the Americas had seen a sloth up there just the other day, we hoped we would be so lucky.

As we climbed the hill we were greeted with sweeping views of the city between the jungle brush.
Panama City


Casco Viejo


CAUTION: GIANT BUTTS CROSSING


We made it to the top of the hill which had a gigantic Panamanian flag flying, viewable from all over the city.



Lauren looking off towards the Panama Canal off the distance.


We headed back down the hill still searching for wildlife. We head some screeches up in the trees and saw a small pack of Geoffrey's Tamarin monkeys roaming about.


A little further down the hill I am scanning the trees and spot a clump of fur. Looking closer... SLOTH!



Satisfied with our adventure tour we headed back into the city and grabbed some Dim Sum at <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g294480-d1309023-Reviews-Lung_Fung-Panama_City_Panama_Province.html[/img]Palacio Lung Fung</a>. Best Asian food we have had since leaving the states! That's not really saying much but this was as good as the stuff I could get in San Francisco. Highly recommended. I ate about 1000 trays.


Next morning we headed off to see Panama City's #1 attraction. The Panama Canal.

The Miraflores locks are located just outside of Panama City. They are one of 3 sets of locks used to traverse 51-miles between the Pacific and Atlantic. Looking at the locks in person and seeing them operate is mind-boggling. Add in the fact they are almost 100-years old is even crazier. A true engineering marvel. The history of the Panama Canal is very interesting as well. Did you know the French were actually the first to attempt digging the canal?




Tomorrow begins the shipping nightmare!

F-ing cool stuff

HOLA, great pics.. your living the good life !! If you return up this way.. Santa cruz ca. you have a open invite here !! but is there a possable chance you might find a gig down there you like better ?? It's not like the US of A is getting any better !!!! Hows the 4runner running ? K & T

We rose early on Monday morning and met the guys from Adventure the Americas downstairs in the hotel lobby for our gratis gourmet breakfast of a cup of coffee and piece of bread. We confirmed everything was a GO with Seaboard Marine, our chosen shipping company, and mapped out a plan for the day.

Today mission was to get the initial inspection of our trucks to confirm the VINs matched our import permits and to confirm we had no outstanding warrants/traffic tickets. With this clearance we would be able to move onto the next step of the process.

Keith from Adv the Americas had already loaded up the GPS with the coords of the inspection yard. We jumped in the trucks and hit the crazy streets of Panama City.

After battling our way a few miles through heavy morning rush hour traffic we pulled into a dirt lot in the middle of one of the roughest neighborhoods we have had the pleasure of entering thus-far. I would have thought we were lost if our buddies Brad and Sheena from DriveNachoDrive and 10 other trucks weren't already queued up waiting in the lot for inspections of their own.

View from the inspection lot.


Nacho sighting


Talking to Brad we learned that he has spent 3 days at this lot now. Apparently the inspection offices were closed the past 2 days for "meetings" of some sort. Of course in standard Central America practice no one bothered to inform the large number of people/cars waiting around outside...

When we arrived we met a long line of trucks hoping to finally make some progress. Lots of fellow overlanders from all over the world. Canadians, Swiss, Germans, Mexicans, and a few American gringos like ourselves. A regular United Nations of automobile travelers.



We were all waiting around in this sketchy parking lot confused and stressed, wondering if the inspector would actually show today.

Eventually a man in a white shirt with a clipboard came out of the inspection office. We all ran to our trucks, gathered our paperwork, and stood tall and straight trying our hardest to impress. After all, clipboard dude was the critical first step of the shipping process and if we managed to screw this up who knows how long it would be before we got another shot.

He went from truck to truck, inspecting paperwork, making notes and giving the royal thumbs up or thumbs down to the owners.


Brad passed his inspection, Adventure the Americas passed. I was up next. I was nervous as hell as "Clipboard" came my way. I locked eyes with the inspector who all of the sudden did a 180 and started marching back to the inspection office. WAIT! What about me!?

I ran around asking random people questions, Is he done for the day!? Is it lunch time!? Did I pee him off somehow!? How do I look?? No one had any answers.

30 stressful minutes passed waiting around in the parking lot, shady characters prowling the fence eyeballing our trucks like hyenas. I was just about to give up in defeat when the office door swings open and out trots Clipboard once again... 10AM coffee break I guess?

He comes over chatting on his cellphone and seems bothered by my presence. Maybe he thought I would disappear if he went away for a bit? He takes a quick cursory glance at my paperwork, makes a few grunts, and says everything looks good. We passed!




On to the next step. We need to wait for Clipboard to process the paperwork and send it across the street to the "Secretaria General" office. This complicated process of walking the papers across the street is estimated to take all morning/afternoon and we are all told to come back around 3PM.

We head back to the hotel to kill some time. Around 2:30 we head back to the inspection lot, park the trucks and then play a high-speed game of frogger across the 6-lane highway.




We receive little badges that say "Secretaria General" and enter a large office full of people waiting around. We ask the bubble-gum snappin'-cellphone chattin'-front desk girl where can find the Secretaria General. She instructs us to take a seat, so we do.

30 minutes pass, No one has moved. We start to get restless. We ask the lady what is going on. She just smiles and tells us to wait.

An hour passes. OK what the hell is going on! Its 4PM now. We assume the office closes at 5. There are 8 of us in here waiting for the same paperwork and we have made no progress past this initial waiting room.

We ask the gatekeeper again, What is going on? She laughs and tells us to wait with no further explanation. Seemingly perturbed that we were interrupting her game of "Angry Birds"

A fellow overlander emerges from behind the gatekeepers magic door. He explains that he was just with the Secretaria General, there is no one in there and he just walked by the front desk lady without saying anything to her about an hour ago.

Damnit! That's what we get for asking for permission...

We hatch a plan, Brad and Keith are going to cause a distraction and I am going to army-crawl past the desk, through the magic door, and into the office of the Secretaria General. We are just about to put the plan into action when our eyes catch the Camo-clad security officer fingering his pistol and licking his lips. He can sense the gringos are up to something. We put the plan on pause.

Finally the gatekeeper takes a break from texting her loverboy and says 2 of us can enter. Instantly, all 8 of us rise up and rush the door. She starts yelling at us. Only 2! Only 2!

"DON'T LOOK BACK!" I yell to Keith and Brad.

We all keep pushing past the door. We soon find ourselves running blindly through the hallways of the government building desperately seeking refuge. We find the door marked "Sec. Gen." We fall in and slam the door behind us fully expecting some crazed rifle-wielding Military dude to come kick our asses at any second.

We find the Secretary General pleasantly sitting all alone at her desk. She sweetly asks "Why were you guys waiting outside?...

Brad's paperwork is processed without a hitch. Everything matches up and he is given his clearance paper. His shipping partner was not so lucky and had to make a last minute mad-dash out of the building for copies.

Keith's turn came up. The SecGen got 90% through the process when she hit a snag. His import permit listed the truck as an "ALL-TERRAIN VEHICLE" but "Clipboard" had marked it down as a "CAMIONETA". This inconsistency was all that was needed to flunk the entire inspection process. Keith would be unable to get his clearance until we had the import permit changed at the customs office across town. FAIL.

My shot. I get up with my paperwork, 90% through. Snag. My VIN number was fine but where it asked for Motor VIN the import permit listed N/A. This would not do. DOUBLE FAIL.

We slunked out of the SecGen office defeated.



Next morning we were up early, headed to customs and got the proper changes to our paperwork. Drove back to SecGen office, bum rushed past the frontdesk airhead and went straight to the SecGen. Everything matched up perfectly this time. We received our clearance forms!

With our clearance forms in hand we headed to Panama City customs office to cancel our Vehicle Import permits so we could fly out of Panama without our cars.

Unfortunately no one at the Panama City customs office had any clue what in the hell we were trying to accomplish. They just couldn't understand why we would want to cancel our vehicle import permit.

We spent about 3 hours going from office to office explaining in vain what we were trying to do. We finally thought we were making some progress when they brought us to the main jefe (boss man) of the entire customs office. However, it turned out he was peeed off to be interrupted by a bunch of gringos and still did not understand what we wanted.

Oh well. Looks like we will have to cancel the permit in the port town of Colon where the customs office did this stuff daily. That's what we get for trying to be efficient!

Next morning we woke early. We took a few essentials out of the truck and packed our backpacks with some clothes. If everything went according to plan, by the end of the day, we would be loading the trucks into a container bound for Colombia.

We hit the road towards Colon, Panama. In Colon our mission was to cancel our import permit, find Seaboard Marine office, and load our trucks into the container.

Keith had loaded the GPS with the Port of Colons coords. We soon arrived in the gritty city and made our way to the port. Once we arrived there we found the customs office at the port entrance and explained what we were trying to do. They, of course, had no idea how to help us...

This in turn lead us on a wild goose chase all over the entire port of Colon. For about 2 hours we went from office to office explaining our situation to anyone who would listen. Everyone wanted to help but no one really knew what to do. We were sent off in a million different directions. At one point we went on a 30-minute joy-ride inside of one of the ports official vans which was actually pretty cool although completely unnecessary.





We eventually found ourselves at a building which everyone told us was Seaboard Marine office, but we could not find Seaboard Marine. We asked around for 30 minutes and finally someone told us the damn office is on the 2nd floor of the building we are in! DOH!



We walked upstairs and found Seaboard representatives smiling friendly from behind their counters...


We explained our situation to them. They in turn gave us directions to the REAL customs office who COULD actually cancel our import permits.

We jumped back in the trucks, drove all the way back across the city of Colon to find the Aduana agency we had been searching for all along.



Once inside we found the lovely Maria. She knew exactly what we were trying to do! We instantly gave her a huge hug. She told us she was really surprised to see a bunch of white people in her office, explaining that most folks hire a guide to help them through this process. Ahhh Guias? We don't need no stinkin' guias!



Maria is flyin' through the process almost done when *ZAP* all the computers go out. System is offline. No idea when it is coming back up again. Of course, Maria needs the system online to give us a print out of our newly canceled import permit.

Oh well, When in Rome... We went outside and joined the rest of the crew eating some questionable meat outta the streetside food carts. 2 hours later, systems came back online and we finally had the canceled permits we have been chasing for the past 2 days!

With permits in hand we knew we were closing in on the prize. We jetted back to Seaboard Marine, showed them the canceled permits, they gave us some more paperwork and sent us downstairs to the port office. Port office processed even more paperwork and sent us outside to "look for the guys in orange jackets" for inspection.

We got outside and realized everyone had a damn orange jacket on. Eventually I spot 2 guys hiding out in a little shack. I had to beg and plead for them to come out of the shack and do our inspection. They didn't want to get wet!



Once that was done we headed back into the office, paid some port fees and were finally ready to enter the actual port with our trucks. A final paperwork inspection and we were lead through the gates.





We wound around through the mile-high stacks of containers and eventually reached a large building. We drove up the ramp and parked our trucks inside.



Happy to finally be at the last step!


We searched around for the bossman, told him we were here to load. They gave us some BS about just leaving them the keys and they would do it for us. We pushed back and they agreed to let us drive the trucks into the containers ourselves.




Tight fit!


Adv the Americas loaded up their 4Runner and the port boys lashed em down. We were a bit nervous about the whole process.


Eventually we had to say "Adios". Our babies were in the hands of the port now. See ya on the other side!


Conveniently located right next the port was the Panama City Railway. We hopped a train back to Panama City. It was my real first train ride ever. Cross it off the bucket list!




Many $2 beers were drank in celebration. Part 1 of the shipping process was complete!


Next day we got our butts on a plane and flew to Cartagena, Colombia. Of course the process wouldn't be complete without another hiccup. I accidentally booked our flights on the wrong damn day. The lady took pity on us and squeezed us onto the right plane at the last minute. Thanks Avianca!


Stay tuned for Part 2. Getting our trucks backs!

WOW...

Really enjoying your writing and pics! Keep up the good work!

Ken - Do you realize your utube signature is too small to play?

And some people complain about immigration and the FM3 process ......

Quote:

Originally posted by willyAirstream Really enjoying your writing and pics! Keep up the good work! Ken - Do you realize your utube signature is too small to play?

Avianca

Quote:

Originally posted by defrag4 Next day we got our butts on a plane and flew to Cartagena, Colombia. Of course the process wouldn't be complete without another hiccup. I accidentally booked our flights on the wrong damn day. The lady took pity on us and squeezed us onto the right plane at the last minute. Thanks Avianca!

The urban sprawl of Panama City soon fades as we rise higher and higher into the clouds. Miles of housing developments, sky-scrapers, and asphalt soon give way to lush virgin jungle. We were flying over the Darien Gap. From the looks of it I think the 4Runner coulda made it... Of course its easy to talk crap from 30,000Ft.



After a quick flight our plane descends into the chilly mountain city of Bogota. A welcome change from the sweltering temps of Panama City. We were shivering as we climbed the steps onto the tarmac to head for our connecting flight to Cartagena.



Everything is running smoothly, We grab our packs, rush through customs and head to the connecting gate.




Our luck ran out when the "Shipping process Gods" realized it had been over an hour since our last grand disaster. We suddenly realize there is a sheep missing from our overlanding flock. 3 Americans and only 1 Australian stand at the flight gate.

"Where the hell is Daniel?"

2 of us run back to the customs, No sign. We check the bathrooms. No sign.

I speak with the customs agent, wondering if Daniel had been captured, his long run as a secret Australian drug runner finally catching up to him in Colombia. WAS HIS NAME EVEN DANIEL!?? I wonder.

Nope, replies the custom guy. No white guys today.

We finally find him, outside of the damn airport wandering confusedly around the Taxis. He mistakenly walked out the front glass sliding doors of the airport instead of swinging a right to the connecting flights gate. An easy mistake to make but unfortunately security would not let him re-enter the building. We discuss his options as the automatic sliding glass door continuously opens and shuts in our faces. Well, we sure as hell weren't coming out there! He would have to make his way all the way around the entire airport, go back through security and meet us on the other side at the connecting flight. He had 30 minutes before the plane left.

We wished him good luck and jumped on the bus which then took us 3/4 of a mile across the airport to our connecting flight which was located in an entirely different section of the airport in a brand-new concourse under construction.



Daniel was equipped with his only ticket and a spanish-phrase book. Chances of him finding the new concourse, clearing security, and then finding the gate in only 30 mins looked dim.

We all anxiously paced around the gate as they announced boarding. No sign of Daniel.

We had no phone or internet to communicate with him. I gave Lauren my bag and waited at security. Kevin gave me all his electronics and headed out of security in a last ditch effort to track him down. After 10 minutes of searching, we heard them announcing final boarding.

With no sign of Daniel, Kevin gave up and came back through security as we headed towards the plane.

Our buddy was lost somewhere in Colombia but we got planes to catch. Good luck Daniel!

As we board the plane and hand over our tickets we hear someone yell "WELL WHAT ARE YA WAITING FOR, WE GOT PLACES TO BE!"

We swing around to see Daniel, cheery as a chipmunk, walking up with ticket in hand.

Apparently he had been sitting at the wrong damn terminal the entire time thinking smugly he had beat us to the plane. Only realizing at the last minute that the "helpful" airport employee had mis-read the ticket and sent him to the wrong gate.

We were all relieved to see him, called him a damn bastard, and got on the plane.

We soon landed in Cartagena, found a taxi, and after a quick head count, made our way to a hotel.

Welcome to Colombia!

What a harrowing journey. You even lost your leg in the process.

Quote:

Originally posted by Skipjack Joe What a harrowing journey. You even lost your leg in the process.

He lost his leg but lucky for him it seems to be growing back, I can see toes growing out of his stump

Here's another one that will fool you:

Strange things happen in Panama, in only a few hours, he grew it back like a lobster.

Growing up in Miami, arguably one of the hottest/muggiest places in all of the United States, I thought I was familiar with stifling tropical heat. Cartagena, Colombia made the hottest summer in Miami seem like a visit to the North Pole. This place was downright hell on earth. The temperature in the shade would hover around 95F at 90% humidity. I think Sheena figured out the heat index came out to around 130F degrees. We spent most of our time huddled up in our air conditioned hotel room waiting for the cargo ship to arrive with the 4Runner.

The short excursions we did make out of the hotel showed us a beautiful city full of life and action. If I could get permission to strut around town in nothing but a thong and sandals this would be my kind of city. Ahhh ya, you got that vision in your head now and its NEVER coming out.





Our hotel had a rooftop area where we could hang out, drink beers, and watch the baseball games that took place all day in the street below. These guys were serious about baseball. We watched many fights and arguments break out over calls, score, turns, you name it, they loved to argue about it. I think they spent more time arguing about baseball than they actually did playing. Either way it was great entertainment as we sipped beers watching the sun go down.



Keith and I enjoying yet another heated argument in ladies street baseball.


We had a great view of the spanish fortress across the bay from our hotel. The "Castillo San Felipe de Barajas" was beautifully lit up at night.


Alongside our shipping partners Adventure the Americas, we were hanging out with our friends Drive Nacho Drive who found the hotel in Cartagena. Many nights were spent sweating it out on the roofdeck enjoying the view and talking about adventures we have had and many more to come.

Eventually our ship arrived at the port and it was time to do the dirty. Team Adventure the Americas and I studied up the best we could to get a general idea of the process and headed out.


NOTE: Unfortunately our camera battery died and the charger was locked up in the truck. We have no pics of this process. I apologize for the WALL OF TEXT

Our first step was to head to the Seaboard Marine office to receive our official "Bill of Lading", basically a sheet confirming all of our payment and container information. We grabbed a cab who took us right to the port about 15 minutes from the hotel. After asking a million questions to random people at the port we finally found a little window tucked behind some trees where they had our paperwork waiting and confirmed the container had arrived. YAY! Our trucks were in Colombia... Somewhere.

With our Bill of Lading in hand we hopped another cab back to the DIAN (Colombian customs) building where we needed to register for a mandatory container inspection. We would need this inspection of our container/vehicles before we could legally leave the port. At the customs office we were directed to an uninterested lady who took our paperwork, stamped a few things, and told us the inspection was scheduled for 8AM tomorrow. Alrighty then.

We decided to go back to the port that day and attempt to physically locate our container in order to be best prepared for inspection the following morning.

Back at the port we spent 2 hours hassling anyone and everyone that would listen. We knew the container was at the port, we even had a general idea of where, but no one would actually let us in to see the damn thing. Eventually these gaggle of gringos peeed off enough people that the head of Port Security was brought out to talk to us. Bossman said that we could not access our container today since we did not have proper footwear and we needed hardhats to enter the actual container area. When we balked and argued he promised that tomorrow he would personally escort us in his truck to the container to meet the inspector. Score!

With not much left to do for the day we headed back home.

Next morning we were up early, I squeezed into Lauren's baby-sized sneakers (I had only brought sandals and you need closed toe shoes to enter the port) and we headed back to the port.

Upon arrival, we asked around for our supposed escort from the Head of Port Security and were directed to his office.

We knocked on the office door, no one home. We asked around some more and were directed to another office where a lady got on a radio, relayed some unintelligible information, and told us to wait.

10 minutes... 20 minutes... 30 minutes... By now it was 8:15 and we were worried we were going to miss the inspector. We asked the lady what was going on and in typical Latin American process she told us to wait some more...

We were just about to get up and walk out when a giant Colombian in a hardhat came into the building and told us to come with him. We followed him through the port entrance, snaked around a bunch of guys ripping apart tons of pallets and bins whom I assume were searching for drugs, and eventually arrived at a parking lot with a bunch of containers.

Our giant directed us towards the end of the row where we recognized our container number. We ran over to it and found that the doors had already been opened (We had thought we needed to be present for this process) and the port guys were already removing all the lashings that held the trucks in place. Keith and I both jumped into the container and inspected the trucks. Everything seemed to be perfectly fine, nothing out of the ordinary, no damage, and nothing missing. By the time we turned around our giant friend had disappeared and we were standing in the middle of the port with our container, our trucks, and no idea what to do.

Soon the port guys started yelling at us to pull our trucks out of the container. Uhhh I think we need to wait for inspection?

NO! GET THEM OUT OF THERE!

OK OK, We pulled our trucks out of the container and parked them in the road. Now what?

We asked around if anyone had seen the inspector. Not surprisingly most people didn't know what the hell we were talking about and were yelling at us to get out of the way. The few that did understand believed that the inspector had already left for the day.

We sent Kevin off to run around and see if he could track someone down with more info while we waited by the truck. Eventually he came back and confirmed our fears that the inspector had indeed left for the day. Great! We missed him sitting around waiting for this damn head of security guy.

Eventually we make our way back to the Seaboard Marine office to try to get some answers. They too confirmed the inspector had left for the day. They told us we could park our trucks in front of their office, they would be safe there. But told us we would need to go back to DIAN and register for yet another inspection.

Sunnuvab... Well nobody said this was going to be easy.

Back in the taxi, Back to DIAN, Back to the uninterested lady. We were registering for a new inspection when an english bloke overheard us talking. He came over and started chatting with us, we relayed him the whole story of the day and how we missed our inspection. Apparently the bloke imports cars into Colombia for a living and knows the entire process, all the inspectors, and every loop hole in the book. He took us over to the very inspector we were supposed to meet this morning. He explains the situation to the inspector who barely even glances up at him before dismissing us and returning to his paperwork. Apparently the bloke is used this guy pee-poor attitude and keeps pestering him to help us out and just sign off our paperwork without seeing the cars. Unfortunately, Inspector guy will not budge and brushes us off yet again.

Bloke takes us off to the side and gives us some inside info. He explains that all the inspector cares about is seeing a picture of the car, the license plate, and a few pictures of the VIN. According to bloke, he goes to the port himself, takes the pics, and brings his camera to the inspector. He said if we brought pictures of the trucks to the inspector today then we might have a chance of moving on with the process. Only problem he said is the inspector leaves for the day at 1. We looked at the clock. 12:15.

We thanked the bloke for his info as we dashed out the front door of the DIAN. We start running down the street trying to hail a cab as we make our way back to the port. Cab scoops us up and we tell him to hightail it to the port. That cab driver driver seemed up for the challenge as we hauled balls through the crazy streets of Cartagena making it to the port in record time.

We blew through security, ran to our cars, and started snapping millions of pictures of the VIN, the plates, all sides of the car, whatever this guy could possible want. GO GO GO! Clocks ticking!

Once we were satisfied with our pictures we ran back to the street, hailed another cab and made it back to DIAN by 12:45. IMPRESSIVE!

Camera in hand we run to the inspectors desk. He's not there. Our hearts sink to the floor. Did we miss him??

We decide to take up residence at his desk hoping he would soon return. We noted that only in Latin America could a group of guys waltz into a government office and start hanging out at random desks.

After about 10 minutes he comes back, yells at us for sitting at his desk, and shuffles around some paperwork. We show him we have the pictures. He uninterestingly glances at only a single picture and decides its good enough. He starts filling out both of our inspection permits! We quietly sit there not wanting to pee the guy off anymore. Eventually he hands us some papers to sign and we are done. SUCCESS!!

With our official inspection clearance in hand we head back yet again to the port.

For those at home who are keeping track, this is our third visit of the day and our fifth cab ride of the day. Port security is starting to think we are insane as we check in yet again.

We line up in the main office, wait around for a while, show our clearance forms, pay our port fees, and receive an exit form that we have paid and are officially allowed to the leave the port. Or so we thought...

We excitedly jump in the trucks, head to the gate to leave, and are stopped. The gate-man is yelling something at me in Spanish. I can see sweet sweet freedom only a few feet away. I highly contemplate just running the gate and escaping this god-forsaken place. He tells me that I need one more inspection and to back up and wait.

Today's word of the day is: WAIT

We back up the trucks and sit... and sit... eventually a young kid comes up with some paperwork that we sign and he runs off.

We wait... and wait... 45 minutes later we are having a serious conversation about just bum-rushing the gates and leaving. We even hatch a plan and send Kevin to retrieve our passports from security in case anything goes wrong.

We get cold-feet at the last minute and abort mission. Opting to just go to lunch instead of ending up in a Colombian prison.

When we return we find the kid waiting around our vehicles wondering where the hell we have been. HA! HOWS IT FEEL!?

He hands us our final inspection documents and with nothing more than a wave goodbye, we drive our vehicles out onto the roads of Colombia. We honk our horns in a battle cry of victory up and down the boulevard in front of the port.

WE HAVE DONE IT! OUR TRUCKS ARE FREE AND CLEAR IN SOUTH AMERICA!

[Edited on 8-28-2012 by BajaNomad]

Yep definetly dropped a few pounds. Hiking everywhere and not eating all that pre-processed/junk food we get in the states will do that

Cartagena has two-sides. There is the pricey tourist side and then there is the local side. Often times they are found on the same street. For example you could spend $25 at fancy sushi resturant or go down the street and eat at the locals place for $2.50.

Needless to say we hung out with the locals

Colombian junk food (in Santa Marta del Rodadero)

In Cartagena de las Indias

Cartagena is very hot! Like sitting inside of a sauna. Here are a few photos I took of the area when I visited there.





Cartagena was very tourist-oriented, but the crazy party was north 2 hrs. in the city of Barranquilla during Carnival. It was exactly as I had imagined.

Cumbia Folkloric Musicians were out at night, in Downtown at the shopping centers, and even at the airport!
[img]https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-oS21u_X7R68/UDa9o6Y3tdI/AAAAAAAAAzU/AyipT1hqjJE/s615/7+Cumbia+Musicians.JPG[/img]



Mexican music is seen as exotic - Vicente Fernandez one of the leaders performing Musica Despecho/Mariachi.


Middle Eastern food can be found thanks to the healthy numbers of Immigrants from Syria, Lebanon, China, Europe...

My throwdown favorite - FARAH'S



[Edited on 8-23-2012 by Ken Cooke]

Spending the week sweating our butts off in Cartagena we were excited to finally have the truck back and we hit the road the next morning. Camping was #1 on our priority list. We considered cruising along the Colombian coastline but fearing the mercury would stick near 100F we decided to head for the hills instead.

We busted out the maps and started searching for the absolute highest point we could drive and camp in northern Colombia. Lucky for us Colombia contains the first section of the longest continental mountain range in the world, the legendary Andes. The Andes are massive, with over 50 peaks over 20,000 ft high. The average height along the 4,500 mile range is over 13,000Ft. Consider that the highest mountain peaks in the continental U.S. are just over 14K and you have an idea of what we are working with.

We battled traffic out of Cartagena and eventually popped out into the flatlands of Colombia that divide the coast from the mountains. It was still incredibly hot here but at least it was beautiful and free from the insane traffic of the city.


The road snaked along through farms and fields until finally climbing up into the mountains. The temperature and humidity faded away and was soon replaced by cool breezes working their way up the forested canyons. Ahhhh it's good to be back in the mountains, my friends.


We decided to take the scenic route and ended up in Cucuta, a frontier city on the border of Venezuela. Our guidebook warned us this was a sketchy place and we didn't bother to hang around much. We did however take advantage of the contraband gas that is illegally brought over from Venezuela and sold up and down the city streets.

$1/gallon! I considered having them just strap a few barrels to the roof.


Fueled up we were soon climbing once again higher and higher into the Andes. We were way out here now and did not see much traffic, just the occasional hacienda nestled in hills.


Eventually the pavement itself ran out as we found ourselves bouncing along abandoned dirt roads of the AltoPlano (High plains).


We bounced along for hours without seeing a soul. Eventually we decided to just pull over and setup camp for the night.

Not a bad spot.


Preppin' camp that night was a challenge, even getting out to take a pee was a chore as our lungs and bodies acclimated. We felt like 2 fat kids in dodgeball huffin' and puffin' doing the most basic tasks. We were sitting at 13,000FT. A new altitude record for both us and the truck! Our poor altimeter was freakin' out and stopped working around 12K. The temperatures dropped below freezing that night. Wild to think that just a 2 days ago we were dying of heat exhaustion and now I need to tuck my water bottle into my undies to keep it from freezing up.

I had hoped it would roll over!


We got up the next morning and continued bumping down the trail, eventually dropping into a beautiful little hamlet.




As the story always goes out here, every time we think we are Billy Badasses in our rugged 4x4 way off the beaten path, some old claptrapped Taxi crammed with 8 people comes roarin' past us making us look like chumps! These guys are hardcore.


Our final destination was "El Cocuy National Park". Nestled high in the Andes, this remote and rarely visited park has been described as the "lost secret above the Colombian clouds". Thoughts of camping in cold temperatures and unlimited hiking opportunities had us drooling over the pages of our Lonely Planet guidebook. While El Cocuy appeared fairly close on the map we were now entering our third day of driving and still were not even close! The scale of South America started to settle in as we inched along day by day on our map.

We finally found ourselves trudging up a small mountain road to the quaint colonial town of El Cocuy located just outside the national park itself.


A lonely soul was slowly making his way up the mountain road, he stuck out his thumb and we offered him a ride on the sliders of the truck. He thanked us for the ride as he hung on for dear life twisting through the wild mountain roads.


While El Cocuy is just a sleepy mountain town nowadays, our research showed that as little as 10 years ago the town was at the front lines of the Colombian F.A.R.C and E.L.N. rebel movement. Nowadays farmers and town folk go about their business trying to forget the hectic past. We found the town to be friendly, the people very warm and welcoming.





We posted up in a cheap hostel for a few days as we waited for our friends Brad and Sheena from <a href="http://drivenachodrive.com[/img]DriveNachoDrive</a> to catch up. Our plans were to head into the park and do some much-needed backpacking/camping together.

Eventually they arrived, we loaded up with supplies, acquired some permits for the park, and hit the dirt road to head deep inside El Cocuy Parque Nacional.









[Edited on 8-28-2012 by BajaNomad]

Now, on my bucket list!

I hope to one day drive my Rubicon down this desolate mountain dirt road.



[Edited on 8-28-2012 by BajaNomad]

The 4Runner led the charge tracing through the sinewy backroads of El Cocuy National Park. Due to the consistent rainfall around this time of year, the unpaved road had transformed from nicely packed dirt to slick snotty mud. I had to use 4x4 a few times to make it up the inclines.

Traveling with our good buddy Nacho is kinda like hiking with a fat girl. Sure, sometimes you gotta stop and help her up the hills but... she always has the best snacks!


We scoped out a flat spot of land in the mountainside and excitedly setup camp. Coming off weeks of insane paperwork, expensive hotels, flights, giant cities, and a general overload of "the real world". We all needed some time to decompress, reflect, and re-align our chakras in good ol' mother nature.

I do not think we could have picked a more beautiful place to do it. I stepped out of the truck into a fairytale scene. We were parked 2000 feet above an expansive deep green valley, dotted with ancient stone corrals, and bisected by a raging river cascading over giant boulders below.




Next door to our campsite was a small mountain cabin. Brad and I went over to investigate. It was there where we found the owners insanely cute daughter, Jenny, wandering around with her dolly "Nina"


Jenny introduced us to her mother who agreed to let us camp for the whopping price of $2/per day. The family piped spring water down from the mountain for the site and even had a nice little shower if someone felt brave enough. Only the set of icicles hanging off the showerhead to deter you.

We spent the next few days camping out, exploring, acclimating ourselves to the 13,000 foot altitude, eating like kings, and generally loving life. To steal a line from my friends Life Remotely, THIS IS WHY WE OVERLAND.


Jenny was very intrigued by these milk faces in their big trucks sleeping outside her cabin and came over to talk from time to time.


My poor attempt at child interaction. I am not good at kid.


I am good at scaring them off though, Jenny sneaks off under the barb wire fence to her cabin.



Rest of the story and pics on the blog at http://homeonthehighway.com/el-cocuy-parque-nacional-the-hid...

I love it!

Not ones to stay down, the next morning we regrouped and relocated the trucks to another trailhead.

We found a nice little hacienda where we could camp and the host would cook us dinner, all for ~$5 each. Not bad!


We spent most of the day relaxing and drying out our camping/hiking gear, preparing to hit the trail the next morning.

It got pretty chilly that first night. The four of us huddled into the hacienda kitchen while the owner cooked up dinner. Soon enough our bellies were warmed with delicious sopa de avena (oatmeal soup).

While we devoured our food the old man regaled us with stories from his mountain. He had lived up there his entire life. We all poured over his logbook that went back years and years, crammed to the gills listing travelers from around the world.

A quick cup of coffee and some bread in the morning and we hit the trail. The old man told of us a cave up on the mountain that was a popular spot for people to camp. Once Brad and I learned the caves name is actually "Cueva del hombres" literally translated as "THE MAN CAVE". Our destination was set in stone.

We set off through a valley of rolling green pastures.


We were sandwiched between beautiful set of mountainsides that jutted straight up out of the lush pasture into stark jagged rock.


Our hike took us down into another "Valley of Frailejones" and we stared in awe again at the Dr. Seuss-esque (yes thats a word) plant life.




After an easy stroll through the valley, the climbing finally began.


Looking back down into the valley.


We eventually reached a false-summit and turned further into the mountain. Some fellow trekkers built this giant cairn here to indicate the pass. I took a moment to add another rock to the pile. My mark on El Cocuy.


Read the rest of the story and lots more pics on the blog at http://homeonthehighway.com/el-cocuy-parque-nacional-the-hid...

Leaving El Cocuy was interesting...

Our truck was secured in a nearby parking lot. I went to go pick it up one Sunday morning around 7AM, hoping the garage owner would be awake.

As I approached the garage I heard a lot of singing and revelry taking place. I figured, maybe its church?

I round the corner to the garage and find 15 guys streaming out of the bar across the street. They are singing songs and taking shots of Aguardiente (The anise-flavored Colombian liquor of choice).



The man in the middle is signing loudest of all. The crowd parts and who do I see? Why, the owner of the parking garage!

"Hello good day sir, Could I get my car please?"

"MY FRIEND, MY FRIEND, MY WONDERFUL FRIEND, YES YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CAR, BUT FIRST YOU MUST TAKE A SHOT WITH ME!"

Well... It may be 7AM on a Sunday, and I may need to drive all day through crazy mountain roads but it would be rude to refuse. Yes, I tell myself.[I] It would be rude to refuse...[/I]

We all file back into the bar. The oldman barks at the bartender who brings him a bottle of Aguardiente, he grabs one of the random crumpled plastic shotglasses strewn about the bar and fills her up overflowing. He grabs one for himself and hands me some sort of little unpeeled fruit. (I later learned it was a "Lulo" fruit)

SALUD! He knocks it back and bites into the unpeeled fruit.

SALUD! I knock it back as well. MMMM... the taste of ether and licorice fills my throat as I bite into the fruit to dull the pain. The fruit tastes sort of like a semi-sweet miniature orange and surprisingly compliments the anise very well. [I]That was actually pretty damn good[/I], I think to myself.

"DO YOU LIKE IT?"
"Oh yes, very good. Thank you very much my friend. Could I get my truck please?"

"YES YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CAR BUT FIRST YOU MUST TAKE A DRINK WITH ME!"
"Haha well my friend, I have a long drive today!"

"YES BUT FIRST A DRINK!"
He lines up the crumpled glasses once more and fills them up, spilling 1/4 of the bottle in the process.

[I]Welp... when in El Cocuy.[/I]



SALUD!
SALUD!
SALUD!
SALUD!

One drink quickly escalates into Ten.

Eventually we are all back in the street, signing to the hills and swapping stories of our travels. My new friends want to learn American curse words. I teach them some. They in turn teach me some curse words in the ancient mountain dialect of their people. I now know how to say "buttcrack" in chibchan... They also asked if Mexico was safe. (Damn, the media even has Colombians scared haha!)

I have found there is a level of diminishing returns while drinking and speaking in a foreign languages. The more you drink, the easier the foreign words flow, in turn the better you communicate... However, if you keep drinking eventually you tip over the edge into rapid freefall and communication becomes impossible. Luckily by that point words are just details.

We are all friends and brothers under the glow of Aguardiente.



After an hour or so, I remember that Lauren was waiting at the hostel and probably wondering where the hell I am at, eventually I am able to convince the owner to release my truck. I stumble back to the hostel.

"Are you drunk!?"

"Maybe!"

"Its 8AM!"



"Ya well... I had to get the truck!"

I awake from a groggy nap in the back of the truck.

We hit the winding road. I honk at my bar friends still going hard. I wonder just how long they have been partying?

Nacho and crew are caravan'ng with us. We climb through hills and valleys. I keep ahead of Nacho a bit but always wait to make sure my underpowered brother is OK with these steep hills.



Eventually we are idling through a small town when Brad pulls over. He smells burning oil and is wondering if its me.

I get out to check. Nope, not me.

I hear a recognizable "Sigh"coming from Brad as he peers under his truck at a pool of unidentifiable fluid.

What is it?

Not sure, looks like motor oil. Its not leaking too bad though, you guys go ahead.

You sure?

Ya we will be fine! I have plenty of oil. We will see you in Villa De Leyva.

OK....

I reluctantly drive off. Good luck friend!

<em>We later learned that Nacho was in fact not fine after all. What we were examining that afternoon was Nacho's transmission grenade'ing itself. You can read more about that fun-filled adventure on his blog at http://drivenachodrive.com

Our day-long drive takes us way off into the countryside of Colombia. Some beautiful albeit desolate areas. I almost ran out of gas due to the lack of any towns out here. I killed the truck and coasted my way down the hills to save gas. Made it to the station with just under 1/4 of a gallon. I had my reserve 5-gallons but who wants to bother with all that.


The road eventually leads us to the colonial town of Villa De Leyva nestled up in the mountains. A place where Spanish tile roofs and cobble-stone streets are still king. In fact, the area was deemed a UNESCO World Heritage site to limit modifications of the town.



Villa De Leyva is a popular spot with both foreign and local tourists. After spending a few days in the town its easy to see why. We dined at some great restaurants and explored all the little alley and side-streets full of shops of all shapes and sizes.




We camped up at Hostel Renacer. One of the nicest hostels we have stayed on the trip thusfar. They had a great common spaces, a nice kitchen, and an honor-bar. What more could you ask for?



A bonus feature of the hostel was the drop-dead stop you in your tracks sunsets that occurred every night. Free of charge.




We checked out some of the sites in the town... such as

A COMPLETE KRONOSAURUS FOSSIL. Crazy Ocean beast.


AND THE WORLDS SMALLEST CHURCH... Well I don't know if its really the worlds smallest but it was pretty small.



As you can tell from our long-list of extracurricular activities most our time was doing what we do best, eating and drinking. And this town was great for that. Lots of wonderful bakeries and international cuisine.

We hit the road for Bogota after hanging around for a 5 days or so.

Cerveza Bruder

James - How did you like this brew??? I never heard of this one.

I'm shuffling through my pictures here for some of Bogota. Looks like we didn't actually take much.

Bogota is a huge city, full of history, and culture. It is one of the largest cities in all of South America. Needless to say, driving around in it is a stressful nightmare that does not lend well to snapping photos.

We eventually settled on a hostel somewhere up in the "La Candelaria" historic district for our first night. The next morning I pulled the truck out of the micro-machine garage and caught the tail-light on the garage door. A couple minutes with some ducttape and screws and we were back in business.

Our destination for the day was Bogotas famous Museo Del Oro, home to largest collection of Pre-Hispanic gold artifacts in the WORLD. I have really been looking forward to this museum since reading about it before we even started our trip.

A boss chief and his bling


Believe it or not this was a nose-ring! You can see 4 shamans sitting om top of some sort of bird. During their rituals, the birds supposedly carried the shamans up into the heavens where they could communicate with other shamans on the happenings of the world.




This mummy was found in great condition in a sacrificial burial chamber.


Meditation or just taking a crap? You decide!


Poporo Quimbaya, A famous piece of Pre-Colombian artifact. The Poporo was used to hold lime dust, which was added to the mouth while chewing Coco leaves to enhance their effect. This particular piece jumpstarted the Museo Del Oro in Colombia and is very famous/important in Colombia.


The Muisca raft of "El Dorado". Legend has it, the chief would cover his body with gold powder, raft out to the middle of the lake and chunk gold and emerald pieces into the water to please the Gods. Many people have dredged and scoured the lake in search of these valuable pieces but as of yet have found nothing much.


They have a trippy presentation at the end of the museum tour. You are placed in a circular room where they crank up some ancient chanting music and space out to a laser light show showcasing the gold artifacts.




The gold museum had a great audio tour (in english!) I suggest everyone check it out while they are in Bogota.

After the museum we jetted over to the Bogota Marriot. Lauren's dad had some points to share and was gracious enough to get us a room while in Bogota for my birthday! Thanks Ed!

We felt kinda like the Clampetts pulling up to this ritzy hotel in our muddy busted up truck with duct tape holding taillights together.


All our problems washed away when we got to the room and indulged in unlimited hot water showers, cable TV, and room service. Oh and a delicious pillow menu

ILL TAKE ONE OF EACH!



The next morning, we stretched that check-out time till they were breaking down the door.

Hopped in the truck and headed south.

We popped open our guidebook and searched for "What's Next" while we drove south from Bogota.

Lauren found a short blurb describing a strange geological area of Colombia. The Desierto Tatacoa (Tatacoa Desert) is described as one of the "most attractive natural settings" in Colombia.

The guidebook described large sand pillars painted with orange and yellow hues, 30 foot deep eroded gullies, and miles upon miles of open land. It also stated that the Tatacoa Desert is one of the best places in the world for star-gazing due to lack of light pollution and close proximity to the equator, making it possible to view both the Northern and Southern hemisphere constellations. Sounds good!

Volcanoes popping up on the horizon


I spy a thin snaking road on our map to the desert. Bored of the highway the 4Runner is happy to be back on dirtroads.


Some of the scenery along our winding dirt path





After a few hours of back-roads crossing through many small pueblos who probably wondered how the hell these gringos got out here, we finally arrived on the out-skirts of the desert.


Pushing further in, the grey and black sand gave way to some amazingly beautiful orange/yellow/red sandstone formations. It reminded me of similar formations we had seen back on the Colorado Plateau in the U.S



We also passed by an observatory out here, the stars must be pretty epic for them to build this thing out in the middle of nowhere.


We bounced along through the desert for a few hours searching for the perfect campspot. This being a desert and all it was friggin' hot and shade trees were practically non-existent. I spotted 1 lone tree way off in the distance, pulled off the road and did some 4x4 adventuring.

Read the rest of the story and more pics here!
http://homeonthehighway.com/desierto-tatacoa-the-tatacoa-desert-colombia

Somebody Hook These People Up

Water goes quick in the desert and after 4 days we had exhausted our supply. Regrettable we pulled up our roots and bounced out of the desert back onto the "highway".



We passed the Rio Magdalena, the most important river in all of Colombia. The river runs throughout Colombia. Its life-giving watershed is responsible for 86% of Colombia's GDP. Understandably, Colombians love this river.


We were headed to San Agustin. A small town in Southern Colombia, home to very important pre-Colombian artifacts. San Agustin and the surrounding areas are littered with tons of relics from various civilizations who lived in the Andes mountains from as early as 3300 B.C. all the way up to 17th century.

Not much is known about these ancient cultures. Researchers have found many large stone carvings, evidence of tool use, burial chambers, and religious artifacts. But no solid information as far as politics, social structure, trade, etc.

We found a great hostel up in the mountains who let us camp on there lawn for $5/day. Cold showers but fast internet!


And the worlds wussiest dog I have ever seen. Meet Fresa (Strawberry). Just in case your 10 gram dog was too intimidating, its a good idea to dress it in a pink apron.


The next morning we headed out to the main archeological site. Paid our entrance fee and started touring the grounds. The scientists found these large sculptures scattered all throughout the mountains and moved many of them to this site for further research/display. I like the little protective umbrellas they built for them.


With no signage or guide to tell us what these statues actually meant I went ahead and came up with my own ideas...


"The Skier"


"The Food Baby"


"Mr. Burns"


The Wanker


Ancient Valentines Day card


Read the rest of the story and tons more pics at http://homeonthehighway.com/san-agustin-archaeological-park-...