Medellín’s brutal lockdown had just ended and we were gagging to stretch our legs. Soon after, someone threw hiking Páramo de Sonsón into our WhatsApp group.
I’ll be honest, I’d no idea what a Paramo was. And, it turns out even my English-speaking Colombian friends couldn’t give an exact description. In fact, Colombia is one of only three countries where you’ll find them. And 60% are on Colombian soil. So explaining what páramo is like trying to explain what a Finca is to someone who isn’t from Latin America. If you can think of an equivalent in your country let me know!
Anyway, here is Wikipedia’s páramo stab:
“It can roughly be defined as a high-altitude tropical ecosystem lying above the tree line, yet below the permanent snowline.”
If that still doesn’t make sense, check out the YT vid after reading. All I know is that you’ll experience every element in a day. And they’re muddy AF!
Getting to Sonsón from Medellín
We left Medellín in a friend’s car around 4 pm on a Friday. The road out is a steep climb that takes you into Poblado’s microclimate. It had started to rain but the clouds didn’t obscure the view of the city. Even as I write this from a beach in Mexico (the hard life I know) I can feel the nostalgia building inside of me. At night the buildings spread up the mountainsides like glowing lanterns. It really is impressive!
Once out of the city, getting to Sonsón only takes about 3 hrs. If you need to arrive by bus you can grab one directly from the north terminal. I’d suggest leaving in the morning though. Leaving at 4 pm meant we arrived in the pitch black. And, unfortunately for us during a biblical thunderstorm. Not Ideal when your accommodation is in the middle of nowhere…
The middle of nowhere
We arrived in Sonsón around 9 pm. From the town, we still needed to find Don Alberto’s Finca. Naturally, Finca’s do tend to be in the middle of nowhere. Don Alberto’s was no different. We turned left past a church and said goodbye to the last of the main road. Our 4×4 had just enough clearance to navigate the rocky road that lay ahead. Rain hammered down like heavy machine gunfire. We crawled up the path before the headlights of the car revealed the darkened figure of Don Alberto. He was waiting under a small outhouse. The light reflecting off the bullet-sized raindrops illuminating his tanned and work-hardened skin.
He cracked a smile we’d all get very used to. The kind of smile a granddad gives his granddaughter as he cherishes their special moments together. I then make out his traditional Colombian hat, wide-open cotton shirt, and his cape made from a black bin bag. As he approaches the car window he readjusted the machete tucked into his belt. Don Alberto is as close to a real-life superhero as you can get.
We’re ushered into a neighboring Finca to park up. I took one step out of the car and was immediately greeted by lightning that lit up the entire surroundings. You know in those World War movies when the artillery fire turns blackness into the day. It was quite literally like that. You could even make out the paramo in the distance.
What to keep in mind
It’s going to be wet. So make sure you’ve at least got a waterproof / windbreaker jacket. I had hiking shoes with me but you’d probably be better off in a pair of wellies. Or, bring both. At least a spare pair to change into, unlike your truly…
At almost 11 am we marched on to the Finca.
Be prepared for a 40-minute uphill trudge. Another reason why you should arrive earlier in the day.
We waded through tall grass and ducked under barbed wire fences before arriving at the Finca. I couldn’t believe how Don Alberto made it look easy despite his 70 odd years.
At the Finca, Mrs. Alberto greeted us with tintos and hot chocolate. We slung our bags into the dorm and tried to get as much rest as we could before the early start.
The accommodation is basic but fine for one night. There were 2 bunk beds and one single bed separating them. Apparently, there was hot water although I couldn’t get any out of it. It was one of those electric heating contraptions. The kind where you have to find the exact amount of twist on the water knob for it to stir into action. I swear they have a monopoly on the heated shower market in South America. If you know, you know…
What to bring
Okay, so I’ve already touched on the shoe and waterproof jacket situation. But you’re also going to need something thermal for the nighttime. It gets cold higher up in the Antioquian countryside. I’d suggest bringing thermal skins if you have them. Oh, and multiple pairs of socks! Expect to muddy more than one pair.
The hike itself
I woke up at 6 am to various animal noises and smells. Although it could have been my mate Michael below me in the bunk bed. Anyway, as top bunk bitch I had to vault over my friend and his girlfriend asleep in the bed adjacent. I burst out the bedroom door into the courtyard area in search of fresh air. Mental what a few humans can do to the air of dorm room.
It was a cold morning. I was in thermals and my down North Face jacket. Naturally, Don Alberto appeared from around the corner sporting his trusted cotton shirt. He pointed to the freshly prepared tinto on the table. I grabbed a cup and headed in the direction of apparent animal noises around the back of the Finca.
It’s hard to describe the landscapes in Antioquia. Colours just seem brighter. Like turning up the contrast of your photo’s on Snapseed before uploading them to Instagram…
Anyway, after mosying around the rabbits, chickens, and taking in my new surroundings the others were stirring.
Breakfast was your classic eggs and arepa. And if you’re a meat-eater there were plenty of empanadas on offer too.
We set off for the Paramo around 8.30 am, Don Alberto leading the way with his yappy sidekick manchas.
The first section is a tranquil walk through open fields and what I think was corn. You know those big high cornfields like the one in that Mel Gibson and Joaquin Phoenix film signs? Basically like that.
I was already stripped down to my dry fast t-shirt. We plowed on for an hour or so before entering much taller grass. The soil beneath now gave way much easier. You had to be careful not to see half your leg disappear into the mud. Glancing up from the trail you could just make out our goal behind a whisper of cloud.
One and a half hours in and the open planes became an enclosed forest. The climate turned much cooler but the steady pace and incline provided all the warmth we needed. Everyone was in good spirits as we pushed forward. I loved seeing Don Alberto leading the charge. Always looking back with his kind eyes and words of support.
In another hour or so of steep climbs, we broke out of the forest. And, for me, revealed the most beautiful part of the trek. Just rolling green fields as far as you could see.
Don Alberto in front of the Sonsón backdrop
The next phase of the climb would require rope and some dodgy-looking ladders. They resembled the weather-worn fence panels I’d slowly destroyed with my powerful yet wayward back garden penalties.
Before I had a chance to test their sturdiness Don Alberto was tossing down the rope. One by one we made it further and further up the paramo. And, by this point, we also battled the last element. Snow.
In another hour we summited to fog. Thick white fog. I could barely see my mate Michael 10 yards from me. But, we had made it. By this point, all I could think about was sitting down and tucking into Don A’s Mrs pack lunch. As we scoffed down on rice, chicken, and the mandatory snickers bar the fog unstuck itself from the peak of the paramo.
After a short while, the clouds rewarded our efforts with more breathtaking views. You could say the same for us. It was a 4.5hr energy sapper at 3000m. We were all ready for warm and dry clothes. And another snickers bar.
Not easy
The hike was much harder than I expected. Although an untrained person could do it, they’d probably tell you how much they hate you for talking them into it. I consider myself pretty fit but I was dying by the end. Mostly to do with the altitude but still.
That’s a broken man right there.
We made it back to the Finca at dusk. Only a few hours earlier, we debated leaving for Medellín the same day. Thankful for this decision and almost at death’s door (yep, I was not in a good way) I headed straight to the bunk.
The following morning Don Alberto guided us back to the cars. I appreciated how crazy of a walk he has each time he wants to pop into the town. Traversing terrain that would see most people his age needing a hip replacement. They’re built of strong stuff these Campesinos. Look at their hands and forearms. They’re like maces!
Anyway, as I climbed in the car I took one last over my shoulder at the epic Páramo de Sonsón. Every trek sparks unique memories when you reflect on your adventure days, weeks, or even years later. Páramo de Sonsón conjures images Don Alberto and a real slog of a descent. But, like all treks, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for an experience I’ll treasure forever.
En fin.
If you do fancy it, I recommend doing the hike with Don Alberto and staying at his Finca. I’ve left his details below. And, feel free to message me if you’d like any more info.
WhatsApp: +573137522670
Nick
