Greg and Robert at the Medellin Mansion are working on some tour venues to add a little diversity for their visitors. They include skydiving, kayaking, white water rafting, rock climbing, canopy tours, paint ball battles and the piece’ de resistance, a day at a Colombian Military Firing Range. They want to check it out and ask if I wanted to join them. I agree to go but only wanted to take photos and get the low down for a report. You can see photos from the day on their web site at www.medellinmansion.com. Here are just a few photos of what it was like.
Anyway, our tour guide, a retired Colombian military officer, begins the car trek up some steep two lane roads into a barrio outside of Medellin. Greg and Robert are dressed in camo t-shirts and hats, I am in jeans and a t-shirt and we had a young lady along for the ride (and a little promotion). Several of the streets we were going up were so steep that the little 4 cylinder car couldn’t make it, even in 1st gear, so we had to get out and walk up to the next flat level. If you don’t think we didn’t look out of place in that small neighborhood, think again. I don’t know if they thought they were being invaded by gringo paramilitaries or what but we sure were a spectacle and were getting a lot of attention.
We finally arrive at the entrance to the military base and are being eyed closely by the sentry’s at the gate. They are brandishing semi-automatic assault rifles, holstered 45s and bullet proof jackets as well as full jungle fatigues. They appeared a little nervous at our approach and actually un-slung their weapons from their shoulders. Our guide got out and asked for someone and a young lieutenant finally arrived on the scene. He directed us up a hill and told us to park. We walked out to the firing range and were quickly joined by a number of soldiers and an officer of imposing stature. Turns out he was a major and the battalion commander of the base.
He pointed to a couple of rubber mats with assault rifles laying on them and began his instruction. I pulled out my camera and he gave me a wary eye. Robert explained we would use the photos to promote the tour and he suddenly became all smiles. Somehow, during the course of the conversation, I got elevated to being a reporter and photographer from National Geographic???? My presence suddenly took on a whole new level of acceptance and when I offered the major copies on disc of all the photos we took, I suddenly became his new found best friend.
The participants were given an overview of the weapon. It was a combination AK-47 and Uzi, Israeli design that was manufactured in Colombia called a Galil 5.56 calibre. The clip held 34 rounds and when the soldiers went out on patrol, they carried one clip in the rifle and 5 spare clips in their uniforms.
The major gave a very in-depth overview of the weapon, disassembled it then re-assembled it, then told the participants to do the same. Well, it took the guys a couple of tries to get it right but they finally got the hang of it and were able to do it in an acceptable amount of time. They weren’t winning any timing contests but then again, they were not in an armed conflict.
At 25 meters, they were given 10 rounds apiece and instructed to fire from a lying position. Robert had the tighter pattern but Aussie Greg had the higher score.
We moved to the 50 meter station and the major introduced an M-60 machine gun and an 8 round 40mm concussion grenade launcher. Greg was immediately taken with the M-60 and couldn’t wait to fire it. They both fired 10 rounds with the assault rifle and this time, Robert barely beat out Greg on the score. The major then performed a standing demonstration by firing the M-60 against a large rock on the hill behind the firing range.
He was pretty impressive with his accuracy from a standing position. Next, one of his troops launched a round from the grenade launcher at the same rock. Even though we were some 75-80 meters away, the concussion still shook us in our shoes. I’d hate to have one blow up next to me. Probably knock me on my ass and blow out my ear drums.
Even though the weapon is supposedly designed for urban combat and assault at specific targets without the element of shrapnel, the lieutenant explained that two pieces of metal inside the warhead and the covering of the grenade would do a lot of damage to a person……..then he grinned a shit eating grin!
Time for the M-60 experience and Greg jumped in first. From a prone position, he was afforded 20 rounds which he fired in short bursts at the big rock. At first he fired high, then low then zeroed in and plastered that rock with lead. Next came Robert and he kept plastering the base of the rock. We all kind of laughed at him and he responded, “I don’t want to kill anybody so I shoot them in the feet”…..ha ha!
The major then offered our amiga a chance to fire the M-60. She was not part of the original deal and had only been along for the ride but she quickly jumped at the opportunity to participate. She actually did quite well with the M-60 but proved her prowess with the assault rifle. Whereas Greg and Robert were squeezing off rounds about every 3-4 seconds, she rapid fired her 10 rounds in about 3 seconds. She also outscored both of them from 50 yards. Gotta watch these Colombianas with weapons. Don’t take them for granted.
Then we moved to the 75 meter position. The targets were definitely getting smaller and the firing patterns wider as everyone raced to see their scores. Greg, amiga and Robert in scoring order with only 8 points separating 1st from 3rd place. The major was impressed.
On to the 100 meter station and the scores fell dramatically. Suddenly our tour guide (an ex military officer) and the young lieutenant had a challenge going. I put my money on the lieutenant while the rest of our party went with the ex-career officer. Out of 10 rounds, the lieutenant put 8, smack dab in the middle of the bulls eye, or in this case, the heart of the paper target. His pattern was so tight that it made counting his bullet holes difficult. The ex officer did well but this young guy smoked him on the score.
We finished up at the range and went to the officer’s mess for some lunch. Someone goofed up and forgot to tell the kitchen to make extra food so we had a couple of beers and some chips. We had a lengthy conversation with the major and some of his men about the long standing civil war with the FARC,ELN and the issue of paramilitaries. There was frustration coupled with bitterness in almost all their responses. I won’t go into all the details. At best, it is a holding action with the military gaining ground against the rebels and maintaining an equal position with the paramilitaries. If you really want to try and understand this whole dilemma, go to http://web.amnesty.org/library/Index/ENGAMR230192005?open&of=ENG-COL
and read about the history of this 40 year old conflict. I must admit, even after reading it, I don’t fully understand it, but it exists. The paramilitaries are kind of hired mercenary groups to do things the police and army are not allowed to do....taking care of business so to speak!
We all climb into the car and return to the Medellin Mansion. Greg and Robert can’t wait to see the photos so I do a little quick editing and hand them a disc with a couple of hundred photos.
I predict this tour will become quite popular with the mansion guests. They have a few bugs and processes to work out but it has all the makings of a huge success and a highlight of any visit to Medellin. And, yes, you can take a girl and she will have a ball.
It would be hard to top the events of this day but we all agree that a night at Mangos on Thursday night is in order. We arrive a little late but find the guys at their regular table accompanied by some real cute locals. For those of you that know me, you can see me snuggled up close to a couple of them on the mansion website, Mangos photo gallery. For those of you that don’t know me, you’ll just have to guess! We are dancing, drinking and watching the parade of gorgeous women that are constantly passing by. Now, I can’t say for sure that Medellin women have more natural cleavage by heritage but there was plenty of cleavage showing and an abundance of silicone that was being proudly displayed. There were also a lot of under wire and push up bras to help accentuate the mounds of mammaries. Boob jobs are cheap in Medellin at about $600 USD and a lot of the women make this a budget item in their annual planning. Other plastic surgery and dental work is also cheap and the Dr’s are well qualified with most of them having been trained in the US.
I was impressed with Mangos. It is a huge club, set in an early western American theme, with 6 different dance stages occupied by scantily clad Mangos dancers (and a few guys) all wildly gyrating to popular Latin and American music including a lot of Hip Hop. Lots of people dancing in the aisles, lots of drinking and lots of body contact being made. Some of the brushing was by accidental unseen movements, some by well intended and targeted strikes. No one seemed to mind and some even seemed to enjoy it.
I would say that target identification in Mangos would be considered difficult. You should probably take a date the first time or two and get a feel for how to read the room. There are many couples and many in groups of friends. There are definitely working girls there but one would have to know who they were or possibly face the wrath of an irate Colombian boyfriend for hitting on their GF. You probably have a good chance to meet a non pro there but I wouldn’t count on bedding her the first night.
We stayed all too late, drank way too much and did not get home until the wee hours of the morning. Everyone had a great time and some of us discovered things we had done that we don’t even remember……errr hum…I did what?...?? Sandman’s alter ego sometimes emerges when his brain cells are plied with too much demon rum, the music is playing and he is surrounded by beautiful women. At lest I didn’t get slapped! That is the great thing about dancing. I consider it the only time you can put your hands all over a complete stranger and they will thank you for doing so. Unfortunately, sometimes I get carried away and go a little overboard.
Friday is a day of rest and recuperation in preparation for a day of white water rafting on Saturday. Pitted with delays in departure, our progress through the twisting, winding mountain roads is further hampered for over an hour due to an accident. Seems a semi truck went over the edge of a cliff fully loaded. We later learned he survived but how I will never know. When we finally reached the accident location, he had plunged several hundred feet down a steep ravine of jagged rocks and foliage.
The rest of our trip was a gorgeous drive through the Colombian mountainside and ending in a shangri’la kind of farming valley called La Pintada. We were to raft on the Cacau river which offered a series of class 2-3 rapids along a 12 mile stretch. The river itself is feed by numerous small streams of rainfall water from the mountains. By the time they meet up with the main river, they have turned into a bubbling cauldron of rapidly moving water. Our guide gives us instructions in Spanish and we are happy we have a fluent guest of the mansion with us. We also have to sign our lives away in case anything happens to any of us…….! (remember this statement).
I am torn on taking my camera in the boat or not. I have it wrapped in 4 plastic bags to protect it and think this will be sufficient to get some good photos in the calmer sections of the river. I am taking it, then I am not taking it, then I am taking it. At the last minute, I throw it in the cab of the truck not wanting to risk damaging it. I showed our driver how to use it and asked that he get a few photos along our journey. What a stroke of luck that decision turned out to be.
Our guide chose a section of the river and we carried our raft down to a little eddy to begin our departure.
Everyone got in the boat and we prepared to launch. What occurred in the next 30 seconds can only be described as sheer terror, panic and the biggest clutch fuck imaginable. We were instantly thrown into a class 3 rapid. We had only three people on the boat with any rafting experience. Our guide, another guy who had experienced class 2 rapids in Wyoming and myself. The rest of our crew members were merely holding on for dear life instead of rowing as they should have. We hit a wall of water that catapulted everybody except the guide (thank god) into the water. I instinctively grabbed a gulp of air before going in only to come up under the boat. I tried to pull myself up on the downstream side but the boat was moving faster than I was so I went upstream. As soon as I surfaced, I was immediately sucked down by another rapid but I managed a quick gulp of air. I came up again and took a look around to see who was still alive. One of our tour guides, a girl, was floundering in the pounding waters and I grabbed her life vest and pulled her to the rope on the side of the boat. I grabbed another guy and pulled him to the rope as well. Aussie Greg was out of reach as were two of our other crew members. Our captain quickly pulled the girl into the boat and the other guy next to me. I was grasping for the other two guys but couldn’t reach them. Our captain managed to get a hold of them by extending a paddle and pulled them in. Some are laughing, some are scared shitless and I am still dangling on the side of the boat in class 2 rapids. I asked for a little assistance and finally got dragged into the boat. The captain was more interested in retrieving the paddles than navigating the next set of rapids and we went through with only half a crew paddling. Finally, re-armed with our paddles, we regained our composure and began to recount our individual experiences in the debacle.
Several had swallowed a lot of the river water (and I would not classify it as being potable) and Aussie Greg wanted out at the next calm spot (he said I could tell this part). We pulled ashore and rested a few minutes after our ordeal. It suddenly dawned on me how happy I was for not taking my camera. It would have been at the bottom of the river, lost forever! Note: If you decide to participate in this adventure, don’t take anything in the boat that you can’t afford to loose.
We re-launched and took advantage of the next 200-300 yards of calm water to practice our Spanish rowing instructions. When we hit the worst of the class 3 rapids on the river, we took them like professionals and sailed through unscathed. All too soon, our 12 mile trip was over. We were pretty happy about it as many of us were very tired.
We enjoyed a couple of bottles of white wine when we returned to our departure point (and were soaked so tke some ry clothes). It was as much in celebration of being alive as it was to curb any bacteria we may have drank from our spill. Aussie Greg was driving and only had a small glass. He is the only one who got sick the next day.
The net day, Cuba Nut is arriving and it is immediately time to go out for a little reconnaissance. This guy knows all the places and many of the girls. We hit 4 places, New Life, Energy, Blue Room and Miel y Canelas in one afternoon. I sessioned with an 18 year old cutie at New Life, we both passed at Energy and Blue Room and he did a dupla at M&C’s. We topped off the night at Fase Dos but neither of us made a selection (BTW-When they strip at Fase Dos, they do not necessarily take off all their clotes like at San Diego). I went home and got a good nights sleep endeavoring to recover from the previous day, while he went out to visit some old friends.