Riding extreme Colombian gravel on a bike named Shakira.
Three wild stages through the Andes, and me, a stubborn road cyclist, attempting my first gravel race in Colombia. With a custom-built Scarab Páramo, follow my journey at Transcordilleras 3 Etapas 2025.
Stepping into Colombia’s unknown | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
I expected to suffer, but not like this. Somewhere between the canyon heat, freezing páramo descents, and the surprising warmth of the people I met, I uncovered a grit I didn’t know I had, and found my limits stretched far beyond what I’d imagined.
Where nature makes you feel small. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
i. Complete, not compete
I entered this race to see what happens when I step WAY outside my comfort zone. What happens to the mind when the body wants out. I'd heard of Transcordilleras, but always thought it was only for the hardcore gravel elite, until I actually signed up. Years of smooth tarmac had brought me here, but gravel was uncharted. I wanted to ride Colombia's rugged backroads, the ones a road bike could never reach, and see if my mind could hold steady when my body screamed stop. This isn't champagne gravel. Colombian gravel is baby head-sized rocks, relentless double-digit gradients, and surfaces built to break you. It asks for more than watts and wide tires. It takes patience, grit, and razor-sharp mental resilience.
Chicamocha Canyon’s switchbacks. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
ii. Meet Shakira
My weapon of choice was a custom-built Columbus steel Scarab Páramo Integrated. Scarab Cycles is a Colombian builder known for blending performance with artistry. We share the same ethos, showcasing modern Colombia to the world through craft, culture, and design.
Santiago, the founder, was involved from the first coffee to the final delivery, guiding every choice on geometry, gearing, components, and her maiden ride. Creative Director Alejandro and Project Manager Julián worked with me on the custom paint, updating me at every step as my first gravel bike took shape.
I set out to build the Colombici Bike, something that truly reflects what we do. The result is a bespoke Tricolor machine built around my slightly chaotic riding style. She rolls on 42 mm Rene Herse Hurricane Ridge Endurance tires and an ENVE AG25 wheelset, driven by a SRAM Rival mullet setup with 40T and 10–52T gearing. Fork, seatpost, and front end are all ENVE, for a mix of compliance and precision.
Why the name? She's Colombian, beautiful, and full of attitude. A dream bike on paper, but this was the reality test. Could she survive Colombia's brutal gravel, and could I survive with her?
My custom-built steel Scarab Páramo, with a sassy concept. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Built for Colombia’s ruggedness, but can I handle it? | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Turns out, it wasn’t the bike that suffered. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
iii. Wild, wild, Colombia
Three epic stages unfolded across the Eastern Cordillera, each testing me in ways I hadn't imagined and revealing Colombia's raw beauty. Stage one dropped us into the Chicamocha Canyon, winding through scorching switchbacks to Zapatoca, plunging into La Fuente and Galán, then finishing with a punishing 14 km climb to Barichara. The heat was relentless, but the stark, cinematic landscapes of Santander kept my mind occupied.
The queen stage, 65 km up to 3,500 m above sea level. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Wild, wild landscape of Santander, Colombia. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Norman cows, Boyaca’s unofficial race marshals. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Barichara makes even suffering look scenic. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Stage two was shorter but no softer, with rapid river crossings that left my shoes heavy and cold, and loose gravel that made every turn feel like a gamble. The Alto del Río to Socorro, a steep concrete wall averaging 15% with spikes over 20%, demanded every shred of grit.
Small-town Colombia, big on charm. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Endless rives and mountains. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Then came the queen stage. From Charalá, we climbed 65 km of gravel into the high-altitude Páramo de la Rusia in Boyacá. The temperature plunged, rain swept in, and by nightfall, the descent had become a fight to stay warm and upright. This was Colombia at its wildest, and it pulled a resilience out of me I didn't know existed.
The Andes don’t hand out easy miles. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
iv. My mind is strong
Somewhere deep in the Andes, my mantra became clear: my mind is strong. I have never liked pain. I avoid it when I can. I dread the dentist. I hate injections. But here, in the cold and dark, I realised pain was just information, my body’s way of asking if I wanted to stop. My mind kept answering no! DNF was not an option. Mental strength is not something you are born with. You build it each time you choose to keep going when it would be easier to stop.
The moment quitting sounded tempting. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
v. Three days, one lesson
The lesson hit hard: showing up and finishing matters more than talent. After stage one, my Whoop recovery score was 8%. I barely slept. My appetite vanished. My body begged me to stop. Yet each morning I clipped in anyway. Stubbornness became my sharpest tool, each finish line proof I could push through doubt and exhaustion. Colombia makes you earn everything, merciless climbs, unpredictable weather, unforgiving roads, but it rewards you with moments money can’t buy: a canyon view that eases pain, a roadside tinto warming frozen hands, a stranger lighting your way down a sketchy descent. Here, you learn how far you can really go.
Final stage, ready or not. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Grit shared is grit doubled. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
Suffer together, friends forever. | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
vi. The other finish line
Mental toughness grows when you choose to keep going. These three days in the rugged Andes proved that resilience is built, not born. The climbs, cold, and dark finishes were lessons in trusting my mind under pressure. Off the bike, it means staying calm in chaos, making decisions in uncertainty, and finishing what you start. Colombia will push you, and the roads here change you in ways comfort never will.
I finished with a total time of 31 hours and 48 minutes, dead last in my category, 14 hours behind the winner, yet I’ve never felt more accomplished!
So what is the toughest thing you will take on next?
Thanks for the adventure, @Transcordilleras | Photo by: @lavueltaesasi @inkdustrial @mateorueda
