The muddy odyssey of the boys who got lost in Monserrate

Valentina, Santiago and Johan Sebastián Rodríguez are three of the children who, two weeks ago, had Bogotá on edge. They were part of a group of 10 teenagers who were lost for more than 24 hours in Monserrate, the iconic mountain in the eastern hills of the capital. It was a difficult, distressing experience. They walked for hours covered in mud and rain, in almost virgin forests. Some of the kids ended up dehydrated and hypothermic. With the odyssey in the rearview mirror, the Rodríguezes see the funny side of what happened. “We went viral,” they admit with a laugh. Together, in their grandmother's house in the town of Kennedy, watched by their father, Ómar, and his two cats – who desperately want to participate in the interview -, they remember everything: the good, the bad and the funny.

On Sunday, December 17, they left home at 6:30 in the morning. The plan was to climb Monserrate, go down to the San Francisco River for a while, behind the summit, and return to Kennedy before the sun went down. On the way they met seven friends from their soccer school and they got on the Transmilenio together. The plan was in motion. They arrived at the mountain at nine, they say, and began the walk. “It wasn't a big deal. We were all in sweatshirts, jackets and we had towels and that's it,” says Valentina, 16 years old. “How could we think we were going to get lost?” Adds her brother Johan Sebastián, 14.

On the way up they drank all the water they had carried. After exactly one hour and one minute, according to the stopwatch Valentina set, they reached the top. They didn't stay long, about 20 minutes, they estimate. They checked the dozens of businesses, noticed that there was a mass in the church and walked to the bottom of the peak, where they found some bars and a banner that said Emergency Exit.

A friend said that if they went under it, they could quickly reach the river. There was a path, he had already taken it, he assured. The boys say that they asked a man if he could go out there. He answered them yes. “Well, okay,” they decided. Then, one by one, they went under the fence and began to walk behind Monserrate, heading towards the river they so wanted to see. They didn't know they were walking into their own nightmare.

The ten began to go down the mountain. They followed a muddy path, very difficult to walk. “Since we were bothering them, we weren't so careful,” remembers Santiago, the eldest brother, 17 years old. The mud made them fall, but they got up, laughed and continued. “We were already pigs, literally,” says Valentina. As they entered the forest, the voice of the priest who was officiating the mass became distant. The cars were also less audible. They didn't give it much importance.

After almost an hour of steep descent, they came across some signs indicating how to get to a waterfall. “The river must be over there,” they thought. They found a small waterfall, and they knew that there was a larger one nearby. They descended the mountain for about 40 more minutes. The path was gradually disappearing, becoming wilder. Everything had become tangled; something wasn't right. Without them realizing it, it was already 1:30 in the afternoon. They had been in the forest for more than two hours and had no phone signal, water or food. “That's when we realized we were lost,” Santiago remembers. The odyssey was just beginning.

Distraught, they needed a plan. They knew they couldn't climb back up, it would be too difficult on such a steep hill. Santiago came up with the idea of ​​looking at the map on his cell phone. He couldn't connect to the internet or make calls, but upon studying it carefully, he saw that they were not that far from the road to Choachí, a town about 50 kilometers from Bogotá. They would be safe there. “We could order a taxi to go home,” he remembers thinking.

They began walking in the direction of that road, or at least that's what they thought. “The forest played with us,” Valentina recalls. They climbed fallen trees and walked under others. They had to create their own path between the branches. Finally, at 4:30, they found the river, but it cut off the path to reach the road. They decided to cross it. The water was cold and the channel was deep, reaching up to their chests, they say. They were never dry again during the entire journey.

Valentina got very stressed and started crying. Her mother must have been very scared, she thought. Besides, it was getting dark and the sky was not looking good. “You know the weather. “I look
ed like it was raining,” says Santiago. They only had battery left in two cell phones, which they used to light the way. “The trees caught all the light,” remembers Johan Sebastián. They would have to stop.

They managed to climb the mountain a little and found a flat place to spend the night. The space was small; There was barely room for ten. Sitting there, to their left they saw the city and in front of them was Monserrate, where it all began. In a stroke of luck, they finally got a signal on the phone. They had no information, but they were able to call 123.

They had to make several calls because the operators did not believe them. “They told us to call when we really needed help. That we didn't make jokes,” remembers Santiago. On the fourth call, the older brother was finally able to tell them his message: they were lost in Monserrate and needed help. The operator took him seriously and told him that he had informed the firefighters. The search began, but the boys could not send their location because they did not have data. Santiago hung up the call and, almost instantly, his cell phone turned off. Were the eight o clock.

Without water, food or electricity, the boys were desperate. Valentina came up with an idea to lift their spirits: “As we were in the days of novenas, I told them to pray together. “I knew that God was going to listen to us.” They did it. Then they spent some time singing Christmas carols and went to bed, the ten of them huddled together, shivering, trying to endure the cold and not lose faith.

That night there was a powerful storm. The brothers remember that thunder and lightning woke them up. At some point, they heard a tree fall in the distance. They built a roof of leaves and covered their faces with their towels to protect themselves from the bugs. “There were many mosquitoes,” they lament.

When the rain finally stopped and the sun came out, everyone woke up. They were wet, covered in mud and very cold. They decided to abandon the plan of reaching the road to Choachí and, instead, go down following the river. They were very tired, but they had no other option. They started walking.

This time they were luckier. After a few hours of descent they heard a scream. She was the aunt of one of them, who was part of a group of relatives who had gone out to look for them. The young people responded. “We are here!” they shouted. But they never heard that voice again. They continued their descent, now a little more encouraged; Help was coming.

The road was still very difficult. There was no path and the mud was knee-deep. Suddenly, they heard the sound of thrusters in the sky. A police helicopter was flying above them. Excited, they decided to go up a little so they could be seen. They no longer had the strength. Valentina's legs hurt a lot. “We were bad, bad, bad. But I wasn't going to give up. He said 'I have to continue for my mother. So that she knows that we are fine,” she recalls.

Then they heard a whistle. They were silent and waited. Another one sounded, very close. They began to shout with all their might: “Help! Aid!”. Suddenly, Santiago saw the head of a man. “This way,” he shouted again. The man turned around and looked at them, they remember. He was a military man. He approached and the boys saw that his last name was Mirror. He gave them some sweets. They were finally safe. They celebrated with a selfie.

Half an hour later, the ten had descended the mountain with the help of firefighters and the Public Force. Some arrived walking, others carrying. As they descended they were given food. “Coca Cola, banana, cheese, sandwich, whey, bread, liberals, a Chocorramo,” the broth
ers remember. Quite a banquet. Once downstairs, they underwent medical examinations and were taken to the San Ignacio Hospital. It was four in the afternoon on Monday, almost 30 hours after they went under the bars.

On Tuesday, after a stay in the hospital, the three brothers were finally home together. “It was incredibly peaceful after all that tragedy,” remembers Santiago. “I looked at the house and said 'Oh my God, thank you!'” adds Valentina. That day, Santiago and Johan Sebastián went shopping at a neighborhood store. They laugh when they remember what happened to them there. When they entered, the workers looked at them and said: “Oh, look, those who were lost.” Fame had come to them.

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