Ram.pa
riding gravel bikes through the Andean region of Colombia. Self Supported.
“I look down at my computer, and the little number indicating the incline has crossed into the 10’s. I look up and figure it must level out after this upcoming turn. But it doesn’t. Instead, the little number is in the 20’s now. Another turn that must lead to flatter road. The number climbs into the 30’s. 31% incline! I can’t do that for very long. Not on a bike loaded with three bags and my gearing. It must flatten out; it must! Is this the queen of all Rampas?!”
“Every day, there is a moment of complete bliss. The type of feeling when everything is in alignment, no resistance. Legs moving on a mechanically perfect bike. The temperature just exquisite. A combination of birdsong and gravel crunching, vibrating my inner ear. All the outside elements perceived in their most beautiful version, driven by the mind hovering in its most blissful state. And this happens for a couple of minutes every day.”
