Road to Mocoa km 102 to Mocoa: More 'trampoline of death', a broken rack (not mine), and a game of checkers


Map
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Statistics for today
Distance 44.99 kms 27.96 miles
Climbed 608 meters 1,995 feet
Ride time (hours) 3.48 -
Avg speed 12.9 kph -
Avg climb 5% -
Max grade 20% -
Statistics for trip to date
Distance 12,950.85 kms 8,047.38 miles
Climbed 155,230 meters 509,285 feet
Ride time (hours) 1,042.35 -
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Wednesday, July 24th, 2013

I was in the sleeping bag at 8pm and didn't get up until 8 the next morning, must have needed the rest. We were only a few kilometers into the day when Phil's back rack snapped at the base. He slapped a few cable ties on it and it held for the rest of the day in spite of the chaotic descent, he just had to take it real slow. We stopped for breakfast at a roadside restaurant, the first inhabited building we had seen for quite a while. The old man serving us only had one dish on offer: chicken with soup, rice, and french fries. We had been successfully avoiding chicken for a while, having eaten it to the point of sheer disgust in Peru. No choice today.

The restaurant owner gave us the lowdown on the ups and downs of the road for the rest of the day. He turned out to be accurate! The road topped out at about 2,400 meters then began a massive descent down to 500 meters at Mocoa. The road was pretty bumpy, with long stretches of mud and a few stream crossings. I got way ahead of Phil because he was going slow with the broken rack so I stopped at a restaurant around 900 meters for a drink. I ended up spending an hour with the owners' two kids; answering a barrage of questions, teaching them how to count to 10 in French, and playing games of checkers in a notebook. When Phil showed up we had a coffee which they were kind enough not to charge us for.

More mud and bumpiness brought us to a police checkpoint and some restaurants where we had a lunch of sausage, beans, and rice. Phil spilled half a shaker of salt onto his lunch so he had to go a bit hungry. It was hot down at this elevation: it's jungle. We got into Mocoa and found a hotel just before the heavens opened up for a good jungle soaking.

Everyone that we've told the story of Phil getting his camera stolen immediately knows what part of Pasto we are talking about. Robbery is apparently a very common occurrence there. You would think those cops at the checkpoint would start doing something about it?

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Climbing up the switchbacks.
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We are reaching the eastern limit of the Andes. Off in the distance are the plains of the Amazon, from here it looks almost like the ocean.
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There's something stuck on your head, mate.
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Starting the big descent.
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Fogged in for a bit.
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Spectacular scenery.
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My checkers buddy and his mom.
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Drying coffee
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My checkers buddies.
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Some heavily armed soldiers at the checkpoints here.