A quick trip to Pablo Escobar's old stomping grounds in Medellin, Colombia

Medellin, Colombia: Host to the 2018 American Continental Championships (BMX)

This, my fourth, trip to South America this year had not been in the planning until maybe a month ago when I was approached to fill in at a race for a colleague of mine. Well, that decision was not a difficult one to make!

Approaching Medellin after many delays

Of course, flying across the equator for what amounts to a mere five days (including travel time) is not as leisurely as loafing around the house for the same span. As a matter of fact, I know numerous people who'd bristle at the idea. But I enjoy traveling and usually have a grand old time, starting from my first flight until I finally get back home. With my LBB to DFW and DFW to MIA upgrade requests clearing at the 100-hour mark it seemed as if this was going to be one smooth trip: Leave Lubbock on Wednesday morning with the 8:00 a.m. flight, have some hangtime in the Admiral's Clubs, enjoy domestic First Class and a decent Economy seat for the three-and-a-half hour hop to Colombia, and get picked up by a driver at 8:30 p.m. Easy as pie and at least as much fun.

Rerouted on Avianca after AA's mechanical issues I finally made it to Medellin

That was the plan. The reality was that I didn't get to Medellin until about noon on Thursday, and my luggage would take an extra day to arrive, being delivered to my hotel just shortly before my main work began. What happened was that after an almost hour-long mechanical inspection delay on the ground our 777 signaled an open baggage hatch about 10 minutes into our flight from Dallas to Miami, and we had to turn around. As appears to be standard in situations like this, nobody knew whether the plane might be fixed, whether there'd be another plane, whether we'd have to be put on a different routing, etc. Long story short: I missed my international flight and was re-booked onto an Avianca flight that left Miami at the ungodly hour of 3:10 a.m. on Thursday, and not directly for Medellin but to Bogota, from where I had to catch another Avianca flight that, in turn, was also delayed by almost an hour. Well, when it rains, it usually pours.

Artsy murals are de rigueur in Medellin

But, in the grand scheme of things, all this barely registered as it was just an annoying hick-up. Once I was in Medellin and exited the baggage area sin equipaje I was met by Hernan Diario Munoz, a 45-year-old former professional racer who not only has had numerous podium appearances and wins at tough stage races such as the Tour of the Gila, the Vuelta de Bisbee, and the national tours of numerous central American countries but who also rode the Giro d'Italia several times and even won the Tour de Lankawi back in 2002. And he still weighs only 60 kilo! Despite his racing in the international peloton he never picked up any English, but that was a good excuse to reactivate mi Espanol.

Hernan and I sharing one of many pints at Cerveceria Libre

Our driving really was quite limited since the American Continental Championships (BMX) were taking place at one of two very nice tracks that Medellin has; as a matter of fact, just a few years ago the World Championships were contested here. I arrived in time for the obligatory Team Managers Meeting, where I was reunited with my old Canadian friend Loyal Ma who was the UCI President of the Commissaires Panel for this event. The last time we had worked together was at a BMX World Cup in Quito, Ecuador.

Loyal Ma, aka Yoda, and I at the BMX track

On Friday morning, my colleague and good friend Carol Siqueira, who had been instrumental in getting me to the Olympics in Rio, arrived coming from Buenos Aires where she is busy with preparations for the upcoming Youth Olympics. And a few hours later I was reunited with my luggage so that the lack of equipment did not force us into a Plan B scenario. The world was back in order, and Carol and I did the job we had to do on Friday evening during the finals of these PanAmerican championships. Everything went well, and we were efficient enough to be able to have a welcome/goodbye beer after midnight--because Carol left a few hours later at 6:00 a.m. to go back to Argentina. Yeah, and you thought our life was glorious!

First there is work ...

... and then comes the well-deserved midnight perro caliente hot-dog snack

I wrapped up our paperwork and other details this morning (Saturday), and by about 2 p.m. I was free of all obligations. I used the time to explore Medellin a bit more than I had been able to during my first trip down here a few years back during the Vuelta a Colombia road race or since my arrival Thursday. Medellin, which most people will forever associate with drug lord Pablo Escobar, is a sprawling city of about two-and-a-half million inhabitants, located in a long valley and slowly growing up the slopes of the surrounding mountains. Really, the location is very scenic, and despite all those high-rise apartments and sprawling neighborhoods it is rather attractive, I think.

Transportation is an obvious issue here, and Medellin was one of the first South American cities to adopt a bike share program, the Encicla. Before coming down here I had done a bit of research and had planned to obtain a card to use the system, but then the delays and some related issues simply took away too much time--and the helmet I had brought didn't show up until yesterday afternoon anyhow, Maybe next time. But to stay with transportation, Medellin has a modern metro system (from what I saw and used it is not a subway but rather an above-ground train), that is well tied-in with a modern tram as well as a gazillion busses. The real kicker in this transportation plan, however, are the various cables, a ski-resort-like gondola network that is being run in various areas to access the steep hillsides and the residential areas up there. So, for the equivalent of a dollar you can ride the metro and connect to one of those gondolas and go for a very scenic ride up into the hills, sharing the ride with the locals. Unfortunately, it was rather cloudy today so that the views (and photos) were not as spectacular as they undoubtedly would be with a dash of sun.

After walking through one of the hillside barrios I returned to the valley floor and spent the rest of the evening walking around the streets of Plaza Botero, the center of "Old Town." As it was Saturday, the place was teeming with street vendors and hawkers of anything imaginable. Plaza Botero itself features something like three dozen bronze sculptures that were donated by Colombian artist Fernando Botero.

Once my feet started to protest I found myself a bar with a terrace that overlooked the square. Afternoon had turned to evening, but life kept pulsating all around me. Truly intriguing were the fruit monger's carts, which feature a car battery to drive the large rear wheels while the smaller front wheels are connected via a chain to a steering wheel that the operator uses to direct his cart slowly around the streets and sidewalks. Car battery? How fortuitous, as that also provides the power to the loudspeaker! You need to hear the emanating cacophony!

I slowly drifted back toward my hotel, taking in the sights and sounds of a pulsating South American city that has seen so much violence over the years but that has become an attractive destination for many foreigners. By 11 p.m. I was in bed, and at 4:30 a.m. Loyal and I were picked up by another driver, Tulio, who got us to the airport in time for a glorious sunrise. Fourteen hours later I was back home in Lubbock. What a cool five days!

Jürgen

My best-EVER trip to California!

In Dry Creek Valley, on a hot 98-degree day

Wow, what an absolutely stunningly great week this has been! This one has to rank at the top of my visits to California, be it for work or vacation.When it all clicks, boy, does it ever click!

As seen in the Carneros, which straddles Sonoma and Napa counties

Guess which county has more disposable money?

It was a week ago Sunday that I flew out to San Francisco and picked up my rental Nissan Versa to drive the 65 miles up to Rohnert Park, where I was going to be the house guest of my longtime friends Pete and Lynn. For years, Pete had been Judy's motorcycle driver when we worked the Vineman triathlon, and after her death, he carted me around for another year or two. That's how friendships are born.

Apropos way marker in Napa

Russian River close to Korbel and Guerneville

Rohnert Park is just off the 101 about 15 miles before you get to Santa Rosa, and as I found out it is perfectly situated to explore all the various areas of the California wine country. Of course, I had packed the good old Ritchey and together we covered about 300 miles of Sonoma and Napa counties' bike-friendly roads, going as far southwest as Point Reyes Station on Tomales Bay and as far northeast as Calistoga in the Napa Valley. Every day I'd map out a different ride (using the indispensable Locus map app), discuss it with Pete who knows all of those roads like his back pocket, and then embarked on gorgeous rides of around 45 miles. Some of them were round trips, others were one-ways.

Tomales Bay at low tide

See what happens if you have too many Hop Stoopids?

$20 for half a dozen--they have no shame here

The tide's moved in on Tomales Bay

I wasn't making up that Hop Stoopid!

In a lucky stroke of fate, my (now former) neighborette, Janet, was out in Napa to house-sit for her niece, and we got a chance to meet up on a few occasions and share good libations. For example, one day I took the back route to the Russian River Valley where I met up with her for a happy reunion at Korbel, just outside of Guerneville (where, of course, the Vineman tri has started year after year). Not only did we go on the (free) tour of the cellars, but after an appropriate beer lunch at Stumptown Brewing I got to show Janet the redwood forests of the Armstrong preserve, a place that Judy loved so much and where some of her ashes are scattered. Then Janet dropped me off in Rohnert Park, after we both enjoyed the ride in her niece's convertible VW bug. Dang, life is good!

This one wouldn't fit into my Eurocave

The former neighbors at Korbel

That's called a root halo. Okay, I made that up, but it's still good!

Why does this remind me of an upside down woman with very straight legs?

Another day I drove the car up to Healdsburg and rode on West Dry Valley Road all the way up to Cloverdale from where I returned on the east side of the Dry Creek and Alexander valleys (all this is part of the Russian River Valley wine appellation) to my car. That one was a hot day--it was 98 F when I got back to Healdsburg, and I was so glad that I had parked just 100 meters from Bear Republic Brewing where a pint or two of Hop Shovel IPA helped me rehydrate.

How will this year's crop turn out?

Cycling does not get much better--West Dry Valley Road

An honestly poured IPA at one of my favorite breweries

Speaking of cerveza: OK, so they call it the "wine country," but you could just as easily label it "beer nirvana." The number of quality brewpubs just floors you. Obviously, I revisited some of my old favorites (most memorable one night with Pete when we almost cleaned Russian River Brewing out Pliny the Elder and pizza), but I think I added another six or seven new ones to the growing list of hoppy places I have visited.

With inland temps hitting the high nineties (and fires flaring up once again up in Lake County) I decided on Saturday to go down to the coast. I drove the 20 miles out to the tiny hamlet of Tomales, parked the car, and went for a 40+ mile out and back along Tomales Bay. Temperatures were about 20 degrees lower than inland, the sun was as happy as always, and I rewarded myself with fresh oysters from the bay and a bomber of Lagunitas Hop Stoopid IPA. And then again the eternal question reared its ugly head: WTF do I live in Lubbock?

Tomales to Tomales Bay: about 3 miles along this estuary

When I grow up I'll be a fit biker, I mean cycler, oh well, cyclist

Those tiny dots are kayakers heading to check out the fauna of Tomales Bay

Maybe he's the reason the oysters are so dear?

Well, as always the answer was: Unless you've lived and worked all your life out here (and even that is no ticket or guarantee) you simply can't afford it! I didn't know about Proposition 13 or Prop 60, which have frozen (and allowed portability for) some property taxes for lucky folks--without these measures, people would have to flee this place because even if you own your home you can't pay for the taxes! Pete and I had, with lots of thoughtful interjections from Lynn, discussed these matters over numerous bottles of fine red wine in the evening. Yes, I love to visit out here, but there's no way to afford to live out here and have anything left over to do things. You hear this refrain from pretty much everyone who calls this place home. Seriously.

Yeah, I'd like to live here, too (Castello di Amorosa)

Or here (Donum)

Two days ago, Sunday, was my last day here, and I rode from Napa up to Calistoga, on the old Sterling Highway that cuts through all those appellations of Napa county that wine lovers will recognize as the best of the best: Rutherford, Yountville, Santa Helena, Stag's Leap. And to the east was Howell Mountain. When I set off, the skies were obscured by dark clouds of smoke that were the result of new fires up in Lake County, but the smoke moved out and the dark memories were replaced by happy thoughts. Still, for those literally thousands and thousands of people who lost their homes, this must be incredibly traumatic. PST is real here.

Smoke obscuring the sun. Scary.

Ever hear of Stag's Leap? The sign was well placed.

Up in Calistoga I met up with Pete and Lynn, Janet, and her two friends Martin and Celine, who are locals. Their daughter, Ashley, works for Tedeschi winery, and we were treated to the most informative and enjoyable wine tasting that I have enjoyed in a long time. Imagine a winery that produces a mere 2,000 cases of high quality Pinot (and a few others) a year, set on the outskirts of insanely historic Calistoga, tasting and learning (more) about wine while standing feet away from the vineyard. Now, that's special.

Ashley giving us the low-down on Tedeschi winery

Pete entertaining the crowd with some caddie tale, or something

Medieval torture instruments (in my imagination and that of the ladies in our group). Naughty ladies, indeed.

From right, Martin, Janet, Pete, Lynn, Celine, and Ashley

After our picnic (Martin and Celine, you should go into the catering business and not work in a lab or school like you do!) we went to our last stop, the unique Castello di Amorosa estate just three miles south of town. I don't use the word unique very often, because it hardly ever applies. But here it fits: Crazy old Dario Sattui, m(b?)illionaire by birth, decided to follow his dreams and spent a good part of his money rebuilding a European medieval castle in California, buying several castle ruins in the old world and then importing the stones and all kind of other stuff to Napa and rebuilding it all, piece by piece! The dude hired entire ships to bring the stuff over! Martin has met the old codger in person and attests to his flair for the nut-bally, dressing up in armor in the middle of the night and flighting imaginary fiends or dressing up as the Ruler and addressing his guests at lavish parties. Fucking crazy! And fucking incredible! Thanks to all the industry and local discounts among most of us we ended up with an actually affordable reserve tasting--$25 instead of something like $75 a pop. See for yourself:

It was quite the fitting ending to a dream-like vacation in California. Instead of just rebuilding old friendships I forged new ties, and I can't wait for another trip out here. Thanks to all of you, Pete and Lynn, Janetta, and Martin and Celine!


Jürgen