Nowadays it takes a little extra planning to execute a multiple day hike. Mostly the challenge lies in where we can safely store our motorcycle. We were specifically interested in doing a loop into Parque Nacional Los Nevados. A hike that would take us through many different landscapes and up to the Colombian highlands of the Andes (a different part of the Andes from the El Cocuy National Park hike we did). An added bonus, we wouldn’t have to hike with camping gear or food because there are three family farms that hikers can eat and sleep at. The small town of Salento at the base of the park was ideal to store our bike. So, we made our way there, stored the bike, and caught a jeep to Valle de Cocora to start the walking.

These farms are accustomed to hosting hikers, but to be safe we tracked down the number of our intended destination (Finca La Primavera) and phoned to inform them of our plans. It was 19kms to this farm, and we thought with a steady pace this should be no problem. However, we underestimated the challenge ahead.

The hike started off fairly easy, along a river, crossing back and forth on bridges made of fallen logs. A couple kilometres into the hike the switchbacks began. We knew we had a 1,500m elevation gain top to bottom, no big deal. That was until a few kilometres later we started going down again.

By this point we had already had two snack breaks. At the bottom of the first descent we stopped by a river to fill our water bottles and eat lunch, then make our way up switchbacks again. Much to Bren’s delight, there were berries lining most of the trail, and so he continued to slowly eat his way up the mountain. Looking back, I think we were a little too distracted by food that day.

We continued on, admiring plants and birds, and stopping for far too many breaks. And then we went down hill again, not as far this time, but devastating nonetheless. The rest of the trail that day continued on the same, up and down over mountains. Six hours later, I was only pretending to admire the plants and animals, as I moved at a snail pace. I VERY reluctantly told Bren that I didn’t know if I could make it all the way. It took us 6 hours to hike 13kms, and we still had 6kms left. Not only was I fading, but with such a slow progress I was worried we wouldn’t make it by dark. We knew there was another farm (Finca La Argentina) in the next kilometre or so. Maybe we could stay there. Fortunately, our decision was made for us. The farmer told us that it was still another 5 hours and advised us to stay there the night and continue in the morning. Neither of us were too disappointed.

The sunset that night was so stunning that we took our dinners out into the cold to watch it. I had noted to Bren the previous day that we hadn’t seen an epic sunset in awhile – something you notice when you live outside 80% of the time. I asked and received, in a very grandiose way.

We got back on the trail at 7am the following day, after a night of wild, high altitude dreams. The hike started off difficult, but I think it was mostly because of my mindset. My legs were still tired and I was frustrated with how quickly I was getting winded. Bren reminded me that we were at 4,000 meters. It was a long 6kms to Finca La Primavera, but we had incredible views to keep us company.

The last push was a steep and slippery descent down to the farm. As we approached the front door we smiled at each other, relieved and proud to have made it. However, the cheerful atmosphere didn’t last long. We greeted the young man who walked out the front door with big smiles and an “Hola!” He didn’t acknowledge us and we thought maybe he didn’t hear us. Bren walked after him and explained to him that we needed a room. He rudely told us there wasn’t any and walked away. Wait….what? We had phoned ahead and booked two nights. Okay, yeah, we were a day late but there was clearly dozens of beds here. Bren explained to him why we weren’t able to show up the day before. It was still just a no. *For the record, this is the one and ONLY time we experienced terrible hospitality or rudeness of any kind from a Colombian.

After the initial shock of the situation wore off we remembered there was one other farm (Finca La Playa) 1.5kms away. This was a much better option than hiking the 6kms back from where we had just come. Within minutes of walking onto the property we had a hot cup of Aguapanela in our hands, and all was well again. Later that afternoon we met a couple from the Netherlands who explained to us that the people at La Primavera aren’t friendly to tourists who don’t have a guide, even though it is not mandatory.

We had originally hoped that we would be able to summit Nevado del Tolima, but we had only prepared for 3 days and seeing as we misgauged how long it would take to get here, we would have to save this peak for another time. We were disappointed about this until we woke up the next morning to a storm rolling in. We couldn’t have summited it that day, even if we wanted to.

At 7am we began our (what we thought was) 19km hike back to Valle de Cocora. We were taking a different way out, even after being warned that the trail was really muddy. The first couple kilometres brought us up and out of the valley and the next couple after that was hiking along a high ridge. This is where the trail got worse, but still manageable. It is also when the clouds rolled in, completely boxing us in. The wind was so strong that when I took my phone out to take pictures I had to hold on tight with both hands.

Things went to complete shit when we started the descent down the ridge into another valley. It was downhill from this point on (another 15kms), which on it’s own is taxing on the body. But now the trail had gotten increasingly more muddy and there were no longer options to get off the trail and find solid ground. Both of us were proud that neither had bailed yet, but that didn’t last long. My feet decided to go airborne and for a brief second I hung horizontal in the air, before plunging into the mud. This trail continued on like this for hours, but eventually it did get better and we came across a river where we could clean ourselves up. With the end surely around the next corner, we ended up getting lost and adding a few extra kilometres to the day. Which was very disheartening after already hiking 17kms. I started singing, “this is the hike that never ends,” to try and bring up the mood. We finally did make it out, 26kms later.

*I posted this photo on social media back when we did the hike and a few people asked us if this was a staged photo. It wasn’t. Bren didn’t know I was taking this picture, and it’s a perfect depiction of how we were feeling by the end of the hike.*

We wanted to remember this gruelling experience as something positive. So, to fool ourselves into wanting to do something like this again, I made a happy video. Enjoy!