Month: January 2021

Giblets 1

With only two full-time writers here at ExhaustNotes.us, it’s a real challenge to churn out the quantity of content a website demands. Luckily we have Joe Berk on staff. One Berk equals like seven normal writers. Coming up with topics is easy but some of the ideas don’t rise to the level of an actual ExhaustNotes.us story. I’ve swept the floor at the luxurious ExhaustNotes.us office plaza and tossed all the bits into this blog post.

Reaching in through the bottom of the chicken we find that the 1975 Kawasaki Zed has been having a few problems as of late. The far right-side carburetor was spewing gasoline sporadically so I purchased 4, generic carb repair kits online. I really only needed the float needle and seat but at $14 a kit it was cheaper to buy the whole shebang rather than just the seats.

The carburetors sit relatively high off the crankcase on a Kawasaki Z1 so most carb circuits can be accessed from the bottom or top without removing the whole bank of 4 carbs. You can get to the idle jet, the main jet, the needle and seat and even the slide needle and emulsion tube if you’re willing to struggle a bit. When I say access theses parts I don’t mean to imply that it’s easy to do. I have the cuts on my hands to show for it.

After 3000 miles of running I was surprised by the lack of debris in the Kawasaki’s float bowls. If you followed Zed’s resurrection you’ll know how rusty Zed’s tank was. I expected the main-jet sump to be full of fine red dust. Installing the new needles and seats was a fiddly job but I managed to get them in and replaced the pilot jets just because I had them. I left the original main jets in place.

Before turning on the fuel I checked the fuel filter on the petcock and found it clean. I bought new inline filters but seeing how clean everything was I left the old inline filters alone. Don’t fix it if it isn’t broken is a good motto to live by with aging motorcycles.

As soon as I turned the petcock on fuel started pouring out of Carb Number 3 (from the ignition side). Of course this is the hardest one to work on. I pulled the float bowl back off and removed the float and the needle. Everything looked ok. Figuring a piece of dirt must be in there I blew carb cleaner into the seat and reassembled the carb. Back together with the petcock on, the fuel leaked as bad as it ever did.

I took the float bowl back off and removed the float. Holding the needle in place with my finger I turned on the petcock and gas poured down my hand, onto my wrist and up the sleeve of my shirt. This led me to believe there was a problem with Number 3’s new needle/seat.

Upon further examination I found some unexplainable marking on the inside of the seat where the needle valve would normally seal. I’m not sure what is going on. Are the stampings some kind of size identifier? Did the punch that marks the seat miss and stamp the inside of the seat?

It became obvious to me that this particular needle/seat combination was never going to seal so I picked the best looking needle/seat from the old parts and installed them into Carb Number 3. No more leaking.

For the real mechanics: I know I should reset the floats but the bowl drain screws are very tight; removing them may break something I don’t want broken. My rationale is that the replacement needles/seats are the same overall length so the float levels wouldn’t have changed much, if at all. One day I’ll get the drain screws out and set the float levels using the clear tube system.

The upshot is that Zed is running much better. I took a quick, 140-mile, 60-degree-January-day jaunt and stopped several times leaving the fuel petcock on: no leaks. Spinning 5000-5500 RPM in top gear the Zed returned 41 miles per gallon not including the amount of fuel that I spilled while working on the carbs. In addition, I had to turn the airscrews in almost one whole turn after installing the new needles/seats and pilot jets.

Moving on from the carburetor woes, there are a few disappointing rubber-issues with some parts on Zed. The rubber fork wipers have split in just a little over a year. I really expected them to last a bit longer than that. The rubber vacuum plugs that cover the ports used for balancing the carbs have also rotted and split. These were new about the same time as the fork wipers. Not only are the vacuum plugs rotted, but one of the brass nozzles cast into the new rubber intake manifolds came adrift when I tried to push the vacuum plug into position. Luckily it didn’t go all the way into the intake port and I managed to pull it out and get the plug onto the thing.

When I was resurrecting Zed I sourced parts from all over. I’m going to try and dig around to see if I have any receipts that will tell me where I got the various rubber bits. If they are EBay sellers I won’t bother but I’m sure the more reputable companies will work on making it right. One factor that may have caused the rubber failure is the fact that Tinfiny’s shed gets very hot in the summertime. With the doors closed it’s not unusual to hit 130 degrees inside. 130 degrees isn’t that hot for an air-cooled motorcycle engine but New Mexico’s dry air combined with long term exposure might affect the rubber. None of my other bikes stored in the same conditions have had rubber failures.

Well, what do you know, I had more ground to cover but this carb story ended up running on for so long it’ll make a standalone ExhaustNotes.us blog! I’ll post up Giblets 2 soon.

Read all about Zed’s resurrection here!

Whoa!  You’ve won a free subscription to ExhaustNotes!

Whale Sharks in Baja!

Good buddy and former fellow paratrooper Mike is a regular contributor to the ExhaustNotes blog.  Mike is in Baja and he recently did something I’ve never attempted.   He and his good buddie Bobbie went swimming with the whale sharks.  Mike sent this dispatch to us and we’re happy to share it with you.

Joe frequently posts of the magical experiences in Baja and one he focuses on heavily (for good reason) are the tours in Guerrero Negro to see the gray whales and their babies. Having experienced that twice I concur with Joe’s description of this fabulous encounter, however, the tour operators for the gray whales won’t let you disembark the panga to swim with these giant mammals. I know this because I have asked to jump overboard to swim with the whales during both tours I was on. This to me (with my ever-questionable judgment) seemed like the next logical step in being able to enhance the experience.

Two weeks ago, as I entered La Paz I instantly was drawn to the many advertisements for tour companies offering opportunities to SWIM WITH WHALE SHARKS! This was what I was yearning for! A tour boat will bring you out to a marine preserve, provide you with a safety briefing, a wet suit, flippers, a mask, and snorkel and you are ready to swim with whale sharks. The boat will approach these fish (they are the largest fish in the world growing to upwards of 40 ft).  We were ready to go with legs hanging over the panga as it slowed down near a whale shark and one by one we jumped off the boat into the warm waters of the Sea of Cortez. It was very much like exiting an aircraft as a paratrooper.

Once in the water the guide, who is also in the water with you will point out the whale sharks (in case you cannot spot a 40-ft fish).  You can see these magnificent sharks swimming and grazing on krill. We were fortunate enough to have several surround us, which got a bit harrowing as they were almost vertical in the water spinning like some type of aquatic ballerina while drawing in water filled with krill. As we began to close in on them we can feel ourselves being pulled into their mouth like a whirlpool.  I instantly instantly became aware of their size and power.

It was at this moment I am certain the people topside heard some colorful Bostonian language being funneled up through my snorkel when I was too close for my own comfort. The whale sharks are peaceful and aware you are there and not a threat to them, but they are also aware they are bigger, better swimmers, and you are in THEIR habitat. One thing to keep in mind is that they will not move for you and if you get in their path, they may push you or run you over. This was an incident we all clearly wanted to avoid.

There were only four of us on the tour and we performed four dives over about 2 hours.   Their overwhelming size and our proximity to the whale sharks never got old, and our adrenaline never died down. We used Red Travel Tours out of La Paz.  Our guides Siyad and Mario were well informed and they had a passion for ensuring we had a once-in-a-lifetime experience while respecting nature. They were both genuinely as excited as we were when swimming with the whale sharks and educating us on the ocean they live in. For anyone traveling in Baja this is an experience and a tour company you want to go with to see whale sharks.

Awesome, Mike, and it’s something to put on the bucket list.  Your adventure sounds like something we’ll have to do.  Thanks very much for sharing the wonder with us!

ExNotes excitement on a regular basis!  Sign up here:

Headed into Baja?  Make sure you insure with BajaBound Insurance!

Sam Manicom: Master Story Teller

When I rode to the Overland Expo in Arizona a few years ago with good buddies Duane and Paul on CSC RX3 motorcycles, I met a bunch of interesting people.   One man I saw at that event but didn’t meet was Sam Manicom.   When this quiet and friendly-looking guy stopped by the CSC booth and left a flyer, I stuck the flyer in my pocket, from there it went into my saddlebag for the freeway blast back to California, and a week or so later I read it.

My first reaction when I read the flyer was that I had missed an opportunity.    Had I known who Sam was back then I would not have let him slip by without a conversation.   Just a few lines into the flyer I knew I wanted to read his books.  I did (I bought and read all of them) and they were great.  In fact, I’m wondering now why I didn’t include them in the Five Best Moto Books blog I recently wrote (they were that good).  I should have, and I’m making up for that oversight with this blog.

Fast forward a few years, and I was at another adventure touring motorcycle event (the Horizons Unlimited gathering in Mariposa), and Sam was there as a speaker.  I wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.  I met Sam, we had a great conversation, and I attended his presentation later that evening.  The guy is a mesmerizing story teller, and Sue and I enjoyed his travel descriptions.  He has a voice and a manner of speaking that made us feel like kids listening to stories around a campfire.  The word “hypnotic” comes to mind.  Trust me on this, folks:  Don’t miss an opportunity to listen to one of Sam’s talks or read his books.   The guy is a master.

I wrote about Sam when I was doing the CSC blog, and the thought occurred to me I might post an updated blog here on ExNotes.  I wrote to Sam to make sure he was okay with that, and he is.  Sam sent materials and links to me for inclusion here on the ExNotes blog, and I’m sharing them with you today.

So who is Sam Manicom?  Well, this is a man who went out and did what many have always wanted to do. Chuck it all in and set off on an epic motorcycle adventure.

A senior manager in retail, but wanting to do something completely different, Sam learned to ride a motorcycle and set off to ride the length of Africa on a 1991 BMW R80GS. He’d been riding a bike for just three months the day he arrived at the Sahara. This one-year trip turned into an 8-year, 55-country, 6-continent adventure (Europe, Africa, Asia, the Middle East, Eastern Europe, Africa again, South, Central and North America).

But there’s a twist. Sam now has four books published about the journey, and he never intended to write a thing. The point for him was to hunt out new adventures, but along the way other travellers encouraged him to write magazine articles.

He did this successfully over the latter four years of the ride, but he’s quick to point out, “Writing never took over as being the point of the journey. I was out there to learn, to have fun and to enjoy the freedom travelling by motorcycle was giving me. But sometimes you find yourself in places for longer periods of time. It might be because you are on a visa hunt that takes longer than anticipated, or that you have simply found yourself in a place that you really don’t want to leave in a hurry. I wrote all of my articles in times such as these. The journey is what really matters.”

Sam’s first book, Into Africa, was written as a result of readers’ letters to editors.  His other books include Under Asian Skies, Distant Suns, and Tortillas to Totems.  He’s been described as being one of the foremost and most readable adventure motorcyclists writing about their adventures on two wheels, and I will tell you that description is accurate.

Why attempt to write the books?  As Sam tells it, “I guess it was a new challenge and I’d spent time during the last year or so on the road, wondering what I could do with all that I’d learnt. Not only would trying to write a book be a new adventure for me but I had another thought in mind. In part my books are aimed at those fortunate enough to know that they actually can go out and live the dream, with the hope that they might encourage them to just do it. But also for those who love the sound of travelling but are quite happy with adventure from the pages. I’ve also consciously written them for those who live in circumstances that may never allow them to ride into adventure.”

Sam writes for ADVMoto Magazine, Overland Magazine, Motorcycle Sport and Leisure, Adventure Bike Rider, Motorcycle Monthly and various other motorcycle magazines and newspapers around the world. He is a regular presenter at BMW dealerships, and Horizons Unlimited, Overland Expo, and Adventure Bike Rider Festival events. Sam is also a co-host of the Adventure Rider Radio RAW show.

Sam has a fairly unusual background in that he was born in the Belgian Congo in Central West Africa. His parents worked and lived through the two rebellions that preceded the change of the country’s name to Zaire. They brought the family home to England when he was ten years old. For the first few years at school in the UK he was known as “Jungle Boy.”

Sam’s first solo journey was by bicycle age 16. His next big trip was a backpacking, seat-of-the-pants voyage of discovery across Europe, India and Australia, which often saw him down to his last $10. On arrival in Australia, no one asked him if he had any money and a return ticket. He had neither. What was needed, he earned along the way and this he says was a great learning experience.

Though not looking for a girlfriend, Sam met his partner Birgit Schuenemann in New Zealand during year two of his 8-year motorcycle trip. After riding pillion with him for 3 months through Nepal and India she joined him for the latter four years across Africa and the Americas. She was travelling by bicycle when they met but transferred steeds to ride her own motorcycle, a 1971 BMW R60/5. She started her ride in Africa with just 600 miles experience on a motorcycle.  Sam’s BMW R80GS, at the time of writing, has 278,000 miles under its wheels and is still his only means of transport in the UK where he is based. He also owns an F800GS which he keeps in the USA for his regular trips to the States.

For more information about Sam and his books check out www.sam-manicom.com.  Sam’s books are available from Amazon and The Book Depository with free delivery.  All four of Sam’s books are available as Kindles (and you can find them at the links provided above), and also as as Audiobooks and on iTunes.  You can get free audio sample chapters from each of Sam’s books (Into Africa, Under Asian Skies, Distant Suns, and Tortillas to Totems).  And if that’s not enough to pique your interest, you should watch Sam’s Adventure Bike TV Under the Visor interview on Youtube, as well as a Youtube conversation between Sam and Ted Simon.

So there you have it:  My thoughts on one of the best adventure motorcycle story tellers ever.  Take advantage of the links we’ve provided above.  You can thank me later.

Hasty Conclusions: Garmin Zumo XT GPS

Hunter usually does the navigating for us. I don’t tax my little brain over it. We’ve ridden motorcycles thousands of miles on unmarked dirt roads never failing to arrive at the correct spot in the end. Every now and then I’ll ask hunter where the hell we are and he’ll point to his GPS screen and say, “Right there, on the trail.” I didn’t want to appear damaged, it gets rough on the trail once they know you’re compromised so I’d nod my head and mumble something about waypoints, acting like I saw something on Hunter’s GPS other than a featureless grey screen. Thing is, you can’t always have Hunter with you all the time or even most times.

I’ve bought several GPS navigators over the years and all of them suffer from the same deficiencies: they are too small and the monochromatic, grey-on-grey screens are too difficult for my terrible eyes to see. This Christmas CT bought me a Garmin Zumo XT. The XT is a motorcycle-specific GPS that is supposed to be rain tight and the touch screen will work using a gloved finger, they say. It’s not a cheap unit but if you added up all the useless, invisible GPS receivers I’ve bought over the years I coulda bought two of them.

The XT has a ton of features. It will Bluetooth to your phone and give you traffic and road conditions. I guess you can get spoken directions over your intercom thingy. None of that is important to me or is the main thing the XT does best. This Zumo is bright. Garmin’s TFT screen has fantastic contrast and color. I can see the thing in direct sunlight at 80% brightness setting. It’s brighter than my iPhone 11 by several hundred lumens. (Note: I made that up. I didn’t actually measure the lumen output.)

The Garmin Zumo came with a nice handle bar mounting bracket, the kind with the two ball joints and the center tensioning cups. While a good system for street bikes, I had issues mounting the XT to my 2008 Husqvarna. The Husky has ¾-inch to 1-inch tapered handlebars and on the 1-inch diameter section the supplied U-bolt was not quite long enough for the provided lock nuts to actually screw on far enough to lock. Not a big problem as I hacksawed a thin baloney-slice off of the ball mount part and while still not right at least the plastic locking part got a few threads on the U-bolt.

Once I had the bracket mounted on the right side I decided I didn’t like the GPS sticking out in the breeze waiting for a hole to be busted in the housing by one of the many loose rocks Hunter kicks up into my shins, headlight, face shield and fingers. I would pass him if I knew where I was going.

I moved the Zumo to the left side of the handle bar and tucked it behind an accessory LED headlight I installed earlier. Turns out the new position used a narrower section of the handlebar so I didn’t need to hacksaw the bracket after all. Those of you who turn wrenches for a living or sport will be able to predict what happened next.

I was snugging the U-bolt down a little each side-to-side when the bracket broke in two. Rats. With the bracket now useless I had to dig deep into my long history of crappy motorcycle repair. I ended up sawing off the rest of the busted bracket leaving only the ball joint and a chunk of pot metal to serve as a base. Then I through-drilled the ball joint remnant with a ¼-inch drill bit. Once I had the thing weakened beyond all hope I through-bolted the ball Joint to an existing angle aluminum piece. The squared off base contacts the top handlebar clamp, I’m hoping this stops the whole GPS from rotating on the ¼-inch bolt.

It seems to be fairly secure but I’m going to add a small cable with a quick release clip to help keep the Garmin Zumo XT attached to the bike in case something comes loose on the trail. I don’t have a lot of faith in Garmin’s snap-in mounting plate. A couple small tabs of plastic are all that hold the XT to the handlebar bracket.

The wiring is easy on the Garmin Zumo XT, a positive and a negative to 12VDC. I incorporated a power switch so that I can turn the Garmin on or off without using the ignition key. I like to stop and study the screen once and a while and it’s nice to be able to do that with the rest of the bike off. I’ll have to remember to shut the thing down though, hopefully the big red indicator light on the switch will remind me. Another note: If you want to move the Garmin from bike to bike or to your car you’ll need to buy more installation kits. It’s too much trouble to disconnect all the wiring and broken bits of mounting hardware.

It all made for fairly clean installation and I can’t wait to try out that super bright screen on the trail. I’ll do a follow up story on actually using the Garmin Zumo later. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to find where Hunter stashes his used tires.

Read our Product Reviews!

Never miss an ExNotes blog.   Sign up for free!

Favorite Baja Stops: Santa Rosalia’s Hotel Frances

A hidden treasure and one of Mexico’s national historic monuments, you might blow through Santa Rosalia on a trip through Baja and miss the Hotel Frances.  That would be a bad thing.  A stay in the Frances is one of Baja’s great pleasures, and Santa Rosalia is a fun town to explore.

Santa Rosalia is the first town you ride into after crossing from the Pacific side of Baja to the Sea of Cortez side.

Santa Rosalia is the first town on the Transpeninsular Highway along the Sea of Cortez after you cross the peninsula.  The highway drops sharply as you descend Baja’s eastern seaboard through a series of dramatic and delightful twisties.  The stretch is called La Cuesta del Infierno, and I could make the case that this road, all by itself, is worth a Baja visit.  After that, it’s a short ride along the Sea of Cortez, and then you enter Santa Rosalia.  There’s a main street that cuts due west (Alvaro Obregon) into Santa Rosalia, and the Hotel Frances sits high on a mesa to the right as you enter the downtown area.

The central part of Santa Rosalia runs roughly east and west, and the Hotel Frances is on the right as you enter town.

The Hotel Frances is constructed entirely of wood in a colonial style, as is most of Santa Rosalia.   It was built in 1886 when the French Boleo company mined copper in this region.   I started to say I could write a book about all this, but I guess I already did.  Two, in fact.  But I’ll give you the commercial at the end of this blog.

The gorgeous Hotel Frances wood lobby. It’s like stepping back a century, but in a good way.
Fabulous balconies run all around the hotel. I like to savor a cup of hot coffee and watch the sun rise from that balcony.  In the evening I do the same, but with a Tecate.
An early evening photo.  The Frances has a nice pool in the courtyard. After a couple of days riding through Baja (it’s at least a two-day ride from the border), it feels great.
The view from the balcony, watching northern Santa Rosalia wake up.  I can smell the coffee just looking at this photo.
Spacious, luxurious, and comfortable describe the Frances’ balconies, as seen in this early morning photo.

I’ve taken more than a few photos in and around the Frances, but as I looked through them to write this blog, I only found one inside any of the hotel rooms.  The rooms are wood, too, and they really are unique.

The floors, the walls, the ceiling…everything is wood and it’s more than a century old. It all creaks when you walk.

I shot that photo above as I was packing my Triumph Tiger’s panniers, and I guess I probably should have grabbed a shot with the bed made the night before.  But that’s okay.  It gives me a reason to return.  Not that I need a reason beyond simply wanting to tour Baja again.  In my book, that’s reason enough.

You might be wondering about security and safety.  You know, if you read the papers, Mexico is a dangerous place.  But not these small towns in Baja.  One time when I stayed at the Frances, I noticed an older Mexican fellow in the parking lot.  He was a security guard, the first I had ever seen in the area.

A well-armed graduate of the Barney Fife School of Hotel and Restaurant Security, and a charismatic Smith and Wesson Model 10.

The security guard didn’t speak English and I don’t speak much Spanish, but we had a nice conversation.  Being a gun nut, I asked him about his Smith and Wesson.  He took it out of his holster and handed it to me. I was shocked, but I quickly saw that his well worn revolver was unloaded.  I asked about that and he smiled a knowing smile.  My new friend reached in his shirt pocket, withdrew a single crusty old .38 cartridge, and held it up to show he was strapped and ready for action. What do you know…I was having a conversation with the real deal:  Baja’s very own Barney Fife!

The mesa the Frances sits on is an interesting part of town.  There’s a mining museum there, an old steam locomotive, and other mining things.  Santa Rosalia, you see, used to be a mining town until the copper played out.  But then the price of copper went up sharply, and now it’s being mined again.

Santa Rosalia grew up as a company mining town, and Boleo was the French company that owned it.
Tools on display in the Santa Rosalia mining museum. It’s across the street from the Frances.

I’ve always liked Santa Rosalia. There are good restaurants in town, the place has a nice feel to it, and there’s the Iglesia de Santa Bárbara, an old all-metal church unlike any I’ve ever seen in Mexico (or anywhere else, for that matter).  I first heard it was designed by Gustav Eiffel (the same guy who designed the Eiffel Tower); more recently, I’ve read that story wasn’t true.  Whatever version you subscribe to, it’s a beautiful church that was built in 1897 and it’s right at the bottom of the hill from the Frances.

Santa Rosalia’s Iglesia de Santa Bárbara. This church, all by itself, is another reason for a trip to Santa Rosalia.
Stained glass in the Iglesia de Santa Bárbara.
Ah, the wonders of shooting RAW photos. The camera catches details way beyond what I could see when I grabbed this Iglesia de Santa Bárbara interior shot.  You can get photos like this, too, with the entry-level Nikon digital single lens reflex camera.

The El Muelle restaurant is catty-cornered one block away from the church, and the seafood there is excellent (El Muelle means “the dock” in Spanish).  There’s an old bakery a block or two west on Alvaro Obregon, the Boleo Panaderia, that offers outstanding pastries.  There’s a Chinese restaurant, the Comida China, about a half mile south of town on the Transpeninsular Highway that is surprisingly good.  And there are taco stands and other interesting spots throughout Santa Rosalia.  At night, Santa Rosalia is a hopping place.

A pleasnt young tortilla lady on Santa Rosalia’s Alvaro Obregon. To me, this photo defines Santa Rosalia’s friendly feel.
After dinner at the El Muelle, it’s a short walk for pastries to the Boleo Panaderia.  When I asked if I could take a photo, these ladies laughed and responded with a quick “Si.”

A walk through the downtown area is a rewarding experience.  Like I said earlier, all the architecture is wood, as is fitting for an old mining town of French ancestry.  It’s just a fun place, and it’s one of my favorites in Baja. Trust me on this: You’ll enjoy a stay in Santa Rosalia.

The phone number for the Frances Hotel is (011-52-115)-2-20-52. Last I checked, there’s no email address.  The lack of an email address notwithstanding, the Frances Hotel has great wi fi coverage and I’ve posted more than a few blogs from there during my several visits. I love the place and I think you will, too.

On that book commercial I promised above:  I’ve written two books in which Santa Rosalia figures prominently.  One is Moto Baja; the other is 5000 Miles at 8000 RPM.   You will enjoy both.

Subscribe to ExNotes for free here:

Want more info on riding in Baja?   We’ve got it on our Baja page and on our Epic Rides page.

Headed into Baja on your motorcycle or in your car?  Don’t leave home without insuring through BajaBound.com!

Telenova Review: Bolivar

You probably don’t see me as a TV junkie who could spend 60 hours in maybe three weeks watching all 60 episodes of a telenova, yet here I sit after doing exactly that.  And I’m not ashamed to admit I enjoyed it immensely.  The series is Bolivar, it is currently running on Netflix, and both Sue and I were hooked on it 10 minutes into the first episode.

Three different actors played Simon Bolivar at different stages in his life. It was confusing when they changed from one to another, but we caught on quickly.

I think what made it special for me were my two trips to Colombia, one about 15 years ago for work, and the other 5 years ago (Good Lord, has it been that long already?) for our Zongshen-mounted circumnavigation of the Andes Mountains.  Bolivar was filmed entirely on location in Colombia, and having been there myself, I recognized many of the places in the series.

When we stayed at Villa de Leyva in Colombia, Juan and Carlos explained that it was often used as a filming location.  While we we were there, a crew was filming a scene one evening.  Juan told me that one of the actors was well known in South America.  I didn’t know who she was at the time, but in watching Bolivar, I realized the woman I had seen that evening in Villa de Leyva was, in fact, the famous Colombian actress Andrea Gomez.

Andrea Gomez, who I saw in person in Villa de Leyva without realizing who she was.
On a movie set in Villa de Leyva. Andrea Gomez would emerge seconds later, but I did not get a photo of her.
An evening scene in Villa de Leyva. The Colombia ride was one of the great ones. I had a fabulous time.

The Colombia ride, as mentioned above, was not my first trip to Colombia.  I had been there about 10 years before on a business trip and we spent a day in Cartagena.  It was a fun trip, too.  Here are a few photos from my 2006 trip.

A street scene in Cartagena. The photos almost take themselves.
Colombia is known for its emeralds. The place is a photographer’s paradise.
One more street scene in Cartagena. One of the amazing things about this city was the parrots. You see them like you see pigeons in a US city. They were everywhere.  Cartegena is a city that explodes with color.

So there you have it.  Bolivar, Colombia, and more.  The Netflix series hit home for me, probably because I had visited Colombia, but even if you haven’t I think you’ll enjoy it.  I’m lucky because I’ve been there, and because I always travel with a Nikon, I captured a bunch of digital memories on both trips.

Want to see more of Colombia from the seat of a motorcycle?  Check out the Colombia adventure on our Epic Rides page!