Wax palms, a taste of the jungle, and windsurfing behind a jeep

In the town square, we caught a jeep up to Cocora. All the seats were full, so we stood on the rear runningboard holding onto the roof rack.
What a trip!
Driving through the winding roads reminded me of windsurfing, how balance must be fluid and anticipatory as the jeep whipped through curves and sped over broken bits of road.
The road passed through the rolling valley, with Jurrasic Park fields, mountains, and vegetation all around us.
Tall trees lined the road like fenceposts--in fact, barbed wire was strung between the trunks to keep the cows off the road. Majestic wax palms rose up 150 feet and more, the tallest palms in the world.
More thickets of trees in the couloirs, and more cow-terraced slopes.
Dramatic cumulonimbus clouds swept overhead, dropping mists between the peaks.
I expected a stampede of little dinosaurs at any moment.
Before leaving town, women and children approached the busdriver with bags of food--lunch for their loved ones working up in Cocora. He declined payment. Heartwarming and culturally odd to see how community-oriented these folk are.
What a better ride we had than the folk stuffed in the sweaty enclosed interior of the jeep! THe rolling hills were so lush and lovely--so much green grows here.

In Cocora, we dismounted and proceeded on foot toward Acaime. For almost 5km, we walked through the valley floor, mostly through ranchland with fat cows grazing and horse-sign all over the path. THe path itself is likely a rushing creek in the wet season.
At some point, a German Shepard joined our journey. He behaved like our own dog, dashing ahead and returning to the pack, sometimes leading; sometimes following. A quick attachment of loyalty to guard our way.
After about two hours, we entered the jungle, walking along the shallow Rio Quindio through vines and ferns, slippery rocks and mud, waterfalls and stone steps. Cut logs crossed the river as bridges, though the remnants of an old suspension bridge caught my attention.
Farther along, an intact suspension bridge with split-log slats of various size and moorage crossed the river. Moss and lichens decorated every surface, giving it an ancient look despite the concrete pilings.
We left the path for a bit to explor a waterfall. The water was fresh and so sweet, but the rocks were dangerously slippery, and we were on a slight time crunch--last bus back to Salento at 5--so we climbed back to the path and continued up.
I wish I knew all the names of all the flora. Description fails me of the primeval plants and trees. Surprisingly few bugs bothered us.
The path crossed the river over logs several more times before we came upon Acaime. For 3,00 pesos (just over one dollar) travellers can enter the spread of a couple who keep hummingbird feeders and bell-shaped flowers all over their garden. Tiny birds whirred by our heads as we sat at a picnic table and the couple served us a hunk of hard white salty cheese dipped in hot chocolate. Much better than it sounds! especially after the 2.5-hour hike.
The dog waited for us outside the "hidden"mountain home where the couple thrives on the tourist trap.
But the whole was worthwhile, and in the evening, we returned to ride the jeep back into town, sitting on the roof this time, jouncing and jolting and clinging to finger-stiffening roof-rack handles, as twilight settled over the valley.
We picked up several pedestrians on the way--more community thinking--which would never happen in the States where one person sits alone in an SUV with windows up and doors locked.
What a place.
At the entrance to town, we had to get off the roof so as not to attract police attention. I guess cops are more or less the same everywhere.