A Canadian Firefighter Finds the Best Adventure of His Life in Jardín

Three days. That is all I had, and I was going to make every single second count.

Look, when you spend eleven months a year running into burning buildings in Northern Alberta, your vacation time is sacred. I had three weeks in Colombia and a list of things that would make my adrenaline-junkie friends back at the station jealous. Medellín was fun. Guatapé was cool. But Jardín? Jardín absolutely sent it.

A guy I met at a hostel in El Poblado told me about Isla de Pascua. "Bro, they have a pool, the mountains are insane, and you can literally paraglide over the whole valley." That is all I needed to hear. I booked three nights, hopped on the bus, and showed up ready to go.

Day One: Paragliding — Yes, It Is That Good

I did not come to Jardín to relax. I mean, I relaxed eventually — that pool has some kind of magic spell on it — but my first priority was getting in the air.

I booked a paragliding flight through the hostel reception the night I arrived, and by 9 AM the next morning I was standing on a hillside above town, strapped to a tandem pilot named Andrés, listening to him calmly explain the launch procedure while my heart was doing about 180 beats per minute.

Then we ran.

And then we were flying.

I have jumped out of planes. I have rappelled down cliffs. I have been lowered into burning structures on ropes in zero visibility. But paragliding over the valley of Jardín was something else entirely. It was not the rush of speed or danger — it was the opposite. It was slow, silent, and impossibly beautiful. You are just... floating. The town below you looks like a toy village. The green mountains stretch out in every direction. The Basilica's spires catch the morning light. And the only sound is the wind in the canopy above your head.

Andrés let me take the controls for a bit, which was a mistake because I immediately tried to do a hard turn. He laughed, took them back, and said, "Tranquilo, amigo." Fair enough.

We flew for about twenty minutes and landed in a field on the edge of town. I wanted to go again immediately. I did not go again immediately because I had a waterfall to find.

Day One, Part Two: Charco Corazón

After paragliding, a normal person would probably have lunch and rest. I am not a normal person. I asked the hostel staff about swimming holes and they pointed me toward Charco Corazón — a natural pool fed by a waterfall about an hour's hike from town.

The hike was beautiful. Muddy, steep in places, through coffee farms and forest, but nothing that would trouble anyone in reasonable shape. When I got to the waterfall, there were maybe four other people there. The water was cold — and I mean Alberta-river-in-June cold — but after the hike I needed it.

I spent two hours at that swimming hole. Jumping off rocks, swimming under the falls, lying on a warm boulder and letting the sun dry me off before jumping in again. There is something about swimming in a natural pool surrounded by jungle-covered mountains that resets your brain. All the stress, all the calls, all the nights where you come home smelling like smoke — it just dissolves.

Day Two: Cueva del Esplendor — The Main Event

Okay. Cueva del Esplendor. If you have heard of Jardín, you have probably heard of this cave. The photos do not do it justice. Not even close.

I joined a group from the hostel — six of us total, including a botanist from Ecuador named Luisa who kept stopping to photograph plants (she showed me a frog living inside a flower, which was actually incredible) and a Belgian chocolate maker who was way tougher on the trail than she looked.

The hike is legit. Four hours round trip through cloud forest, river crossings, mud that tries to eat your boots. My kind of terrain. Our guide was fantastic — he knew every bird call, every turn in the trail, and he moved through the forest like he was born there. Which he basically was.

When you finally reach the cave and see the waterfall pouring through the ceiling... man. I stood there for a solid five minutes just staring. In my job, you see fire do things that seem impossible — flames that crawl across ceilings, explosions that come from nowhere. This waterfall felt like nature's version of that. Impossible and beautiful and humbling.

We swam in the pool beneath the waterfall. The water was freezing. I did not care. I stayed in until my fingers turned blue and the guide started giving me concerned looks.

Day Two, Evening: The Pool and New Friends

I got back to Isla de Pascua absolutely destroyed. Mud up to my knees, boots soaked, grinning like an idiot. I showered, changed, and went straight to the pool.

This is the thing about Isla de Pascua that surprised me. I came for the adventure, but the hostel itself turned out to be one of the best parts of the trip. The pool area at sunset is genuinely special. Mountains turning gold, sky going pink and purple, and everyone just floating around trading stories about their day.

That night, our hiking group ended up having dinner together in the plaza. Trucha for everyone — when in Jardín, right? Luisa was explaining cloud forest ecology. Zoë, the Belgian, was describing the similarities between coffee and cacao processing. I was just sitting there thinking: I fight fires for a living, and I am having dinner with a botanist and a chocolate maker in a tiny Colombian mountain town. Life is wild.

I also ate my body weight in dulces. Those little milk candies are dangerous. I bought two bags to bring back to the station and they did not survive the flight home.

Day Three: One More for the Road

My last day. I was sore from two days of hiking and swimming, but I was not about to waste my final morning. I woke up at sunrise, hiked up to Cristo Rey — the big statue overlooking town — and watched the valley wake up. Mist in the valleys, roosters going off, the smell of coffee from somewhere below.

I am not usually a contemplative guy. I am the person at the station who is always moving, always doing something, always looking for the next task. But standing up there above Jardín, watching the sun light up the mountains, I felt this deep calm that I do not experience very often. Maybe that is what vacation is supposed to feel like. Maybe that is what Jardín does to people.

I took the Garrucha cable car on the way down, which was a whole other adventure. It is basically a metal bucket on a wire strung across a river valley. My fire safety training was screaming at me the entire time. I loved every second of it.

What I Would Tell My Crew

When I got back to the station, the guys asked me about Colombia. I told them: skip the resort. Skip the beach. Go to Jardín. Stay at Isla de Pascua. Paraglide over the valley. Hike to Cueva del Esplendor. Swim in every waterfall you can find. Eat the trout. Eat the dulces. Float in the pool at sunset and let the mountains put you back together.

Three nights was not enough. I already know I am going back. And next time, I am bringing the whole crew.

To the staff at Isla de Pascua — thanks for organizing everything, for the trail recommendations, and for not judging me when I ate six dulces in one sitting. You run an incredible place.

— Ryan, back at the fire station in Fort McMurray, showing everyone his paragliding video for the hundredth time