Over a three-way phone conference they asked me what my special skill was? I fumbled for an answer as I didn’t think “bull-shitter” was an applicable volunteer attribute. They seemed a little surprised I could not produce one viable skill that I might be able​ to transfer to another human being. I suggested “being awesome”?, this seemed to need a less vague description for a presentable letterhead.

Often times I feel that my grasp of the Spanish language is bang on and I’m chatting up a storm about motorcycles and plantains with the gas station attendant like I was born with a native tongue.  Other times I’m given a bit of a reminder that my comprehension might be half imagined and I’m just enjoying the bliss of what I think is going on in the conversation. This would be one of those moments.

 
      Ahh the Tatacoa desert in Colombia, roughly 300 square kilometers of aired landscape located in the Huila Department of the country.  The altitude whilst driving around Colombia changes so much I feel like a teenage girl on a Saturday, forever swapping outfits and trying to find one that really works for me. Let’s see, should I wear the dirty biker jacket with the duct taped vents to keep the cold out at 12,000feet? Or maybe a nice light t-shirt while cutting cross country through subtropical coffee farms crossing the 2500 foot rage? Wait, wait I think the look I’m going for is a nice yellow matching pants and jacket, a business casual rain suit for the four hour monsoon for the dirt road across cattle country about 4000 feet. Ahh decisions, decisions….

 
  
   I was given the gps location of what was meant to be some stellar mountian views in back country Colombia, with a bit of untouched fishing.

  I thought it might take a day to find the place. Rain, directions, friends and a brake failure would have me arriving five days later.

  This is episoide one of two. 
                           Let the fishing trip begin...​