Venezuela - Sierra Navada

I rode out early for me – 8am – and headed into the twisty mountain roads. It was a chilly morning but the scenery started feasting my senses immediately with the greenery as the road twisted between the towering roadside and a meandering river. 

The mountains became stark pointed knives piercing the sky as I travelled higher in this northernmost section of Los Andes. 

Little towns – pueblos – nestled into nooks and crannies of spectacular vistas, showcasing traditional Catholic life with the church and square as the centrepoint and inhabitants in traditional woollen ponchos and bowler hats.

My baby hit 80,000kms! In this massive continent I can see 100,000 on the horizon before too long.

I stopped at a monument to dogs used in the revolution – Monumento Al Perro Navado – where a traditional handler posed for photos for a small donation. 

The green meandering valleys and stark mountainsides provided constant postcards making me smile. This is the beauty of travelling, finding these places that literally take your breath away. 

The town of Mucuchies (Moo-koo-CHEE-es) was a collection of unique buildings with a huge monastery imposing on the horizon. 

The colourful houses continued in small pueblos, all named Mucuchies something and peppering the landscape with colour and humanity. 

San Rafael de Mucuchies had a quaint and interesting stone church 

and gave me my first taste of Criolla Comida with shredded beef (carne mechada) black beans (caraota), fresh raspberry juice and coffee. A delicious and filling $2 meal!!

Walter had recommended seeing the observatory that sat in the escarpment above San Rafael de Mucuchies. The turnoff was blocked with a police car stopping a driver in a ute who had come flying past me earlier and almost pushed a car coming the other way off the cliff as this guy overtook on a blind corner. First time I had seen the police being effective.

The road to the observatory was narrow and hugged the side of one of the mountains, winding around several peaks before opening up ahead of me at the highest point; the backdrop of Andean proportions. 

I rode up the the entrance gate. Shut. For a month. No 80 Bolivares tour today unfortunately.

The road continued on through a few small indigenous towns and single buildings, each bend with a view more spectacular than the last. 

Eventually winding back down to San Rafael de Mucuchies, I came around a bend to see a magnificent stringy-bark!

These Aussie native trees that have their leaves ravished by insects at home are perfect specimens here. Long thick leaves, tall hardy trunks and lush canopy.

I was enjoying my day so much I decided I would find a place to stay locally here in the mountains, a night at 3500metres, an impossibility in Australia. First though a quick look at the Laguna Mucubaji. That is until the booth operator pointed to a sign saying that no motorcycles are allowed past the gate. I explained that I was loaded with my gear and I didn’t want to leave it unattended at the gate.

'No entry.'

'I will pay 200Bs instead of the 80Bs charged to cars.'

'No entry.'

'Just let me drive forward to turn around.'

'No. Back up here and return down the road.'

'But it is such a big heavy bike with no reverse and very difficult to manouvre.'

'Ok but turn straight around.'

As it happened, the afternoon cloud was rolling in and about to obscure any view I would have had. A couple of quick snaps 

and I turned around and rode back to San Rafael de Mucuchies, where I found a perfect little cabin nestled in the valley.