Updated May 30, 2026 at 2:00 AM AKDT
MAVECURE, Colombia – It's barely sunup in the Amazon rainforest but the sound of howler monkeys, parrots and frogs serve as nature's alarm clock.
Along with a couple of friends from the U.S., I'm in eastern Colombia, a stone's throw from Venezuela. All around the landscape is green and pancake-flat to the horizon. Or so it seems. For as we start hiking, we spot three massive rock formations dramatically jutting up some 2,000 feet from the jungle floor.
These are the Cerros de Mavecure, or the Mavecure mountains. They consist of three massive buttes of sandstone, shale and quartz that are barren and rounded at the top. They remind me of Sugarloaf Mountain in Rio de Janeiro, but there's nothing sweet about the name. "Mavecure" refers to the poison-dart blowguns used by the Indigenous groups here for hunting.
Our guide, Ignacio Rodriguez, says the site is sacred for the area's Puinave and Curipaco Indians who often climb these ridges to leave offerings to the spirits.
As she takes in the view, Marcela Sánchez, an industrial engineer from the Colombian city of Cali, says: "It's divine."
Getting to the top of the smallest of the three peaks in the 90-degree heat takes a couple of hours and buckets of sweat. The route is rigged with guide ropes and ladders and there are scenic overlooks to stop for water. The climb turns out to be well worth it. To me, Mavecure seems as monumental as Machu Picchu.
It's also a prime example of why Colombia holds so much potential for tourism. Besides the Amazon jungle, Colombia is home to Caribbean beaches and three Andean Mountain ranges. Such biodiversity makes it a bird-watcher's paradise. Macaws, toucans and tanagers are among Colombia's 1,900 avian species, more than any other country.
For decades, however, foreign tourists stayed away while Colombians stayed home because the country was mired in a guerrilla war and drug-cartel violence. That began to change in 2016 when the government signed a peace treaty with cocaine-trafficking rebels.
During the first eight months of 2025, Colombia received a record 3.1 million international visitors. "Tourism is now the main engine of the local economy," says Delio Agapito the mayor of Remanso, a village at the foot of Mavecure.
As a result, many people living near Mavecure have gotten out of gold mining, which polluted the jungle rivers with mercury and sediment, to work as tour guides, operate restaurants and hostels, or sell arts and crafts.
Among them is Fabio Pérez, who used to disappear into the jungle for months at a time to mine gold. These days, he runs a hostel and an apiary project and sells honey to tourists.
"Now, I don't abandon my family like I used to," Pérez said as he gave us a tour of the bee hives. "My family is with me. My sons are with me. Tourism has improved our quality of life."
Yet compared to Colombian hotspots like Cartagena or Medellín, Mavecure gets just a trickle of visitors.
One problem is that there are no roads connecting Mavecure to the rest of the country -- only rivers. Flights in and out of the nearest airport are sporadic. With no proper hotels, tourists who make the effort to get here sleep in rustic bunkhouses.
"Tourism here is still very small-scale," says Fernando Carrillo, who runs Aroma Verde, an environmental foundation that also promotes sustainable tourism.
As we work our way up the mountain we seem to be on own. Rodríguez, our guide, warns us not to grab trees branches or bushes for stability or we might get a handful of thorns. Also, he says, beware of snakes. But it's dry season our climb turns out to be reptile-free.
Near the top, we finally meet a few other climbers. Their guide has spotted some edible rainforest ants. Sebastian Rivera, a Colombian anesthesiologist, pops one into his mouth and is surprised by the sensation of citrus.
"It's weird," he says. "The head of the ant tasted like lemon."
We fall in behind the other tourists and soon reach the summit. The payoff a panoramic tableau of the jungle and the winding Inírida River punctured by Mavecure's two other peaks that are even taller than the one we've just ascended.
"This is a dream come true," says Catalina Laverde, a Colombian lab technician, who made the climb with five of her girlfriends.
As for Rivera -- the guy who ate the ants – he's happy to have these mountains almost to himself. "I know they're trying to make it more touristy. But for most Colombians it's still a little too out-in-the-forest," he says. "Here, it's not the five-star resort, but you do get these natural wonders."
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