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In March of 2001, a film crew went deep into the exotic and dangerous land of Colombia to shoot a pseudo-documentary film in the actual locations where emerald history unfolded with actual people from the emerald trade. For four months they filmed throughout Bogotá and in the outlawed emerald mine zones. The unpredictable journey turned into a daring story of survival.

Emerald Cowboy kicks off in Bogotá under the eye of mass media attention and with the intense presence of heavily armed bodyguards clutching loaded shotguns on set everyday. On the second week, a statement by the guerilla is released stating that due to President Bush's anti-drug aid to the Colombian government, all Americans in Colombia are now targets for terrorism and kidnapping. Americans in the production are disrupted by this threat. Week three presents no less difficulty as the city is struck by a series of hale storms. In week four and five, while shooting downtown, demonstrations against the guerilla unexpectedly rampage the streets. Flocks of people run seeking cover from tear gas and gun-powder bombs. The bodyguards protect the crew and cameras with weapons in hand. Soon enough, the six weeks come to an end. Shooting in Bogotá is safely and successfully completed.

The real danger awaits the crew in the enigmatic mine lands. To date, numerous attempts to shoot in these areas have been made by film crews worldwide, but most have been driven out. Emerald land is closed off to outsiders. Members of emerald families and natives are the only few to cross the frontiers. Colombians rarely stray to these forbidden corners of the country. Esmeralderos; emerald cowboys are feared and disliked for their cutthroat image. They are taboo: the dark cowboys of the South American Andes.

On the seventh week before setting out to the mine lands, the production team is downsized and men replace nearly all women in the crew as a precaution. The comforts of paved roads, telephones and warm water are left behind in the city. Ten hours deep into the mountains, treacherous roads prevent further advance. Production trucks get stuck in mud and tires blow up every couple of hours in the dead of the night. Two days of arduous travel through the Andean jungle initiates even the strong hearted. Military checkpoints and police searches are done often and at random. The further the jungle leads, the more intense conditions become. Bodyguards keep their eyes open for infamous guerilla tolls disguised as National Police who kidnap for ransom. Rainstorms, heat waves, injuries, road robbery, entrapment, vehicle wrecks and a mountain rockslide are some of the experiences that will rattle the production in time.

Upon arrival in the mines, tropical heat and a striking lush panorama welcome the production team. Deep in the bosom of the beautiful Andes there is no turning back. Curious town people come out to see a film crew march down their streets for the first time. Dozens of idle children gather from early morning on set and follow the crew like a circus. Miners and town men, armed and somber, watch coolly from canteens at daybreak. They sport side arms tucked in their jeans and boots; cowboy style. Village women prepare meals over wood and coal in dirt floor bungalows. At night, gun shootings on the empty streets awaken production members in shabby hotel rooms. Hayata's soldiers stay awake through dawn watching over the directors and producers.

On the eleventh week, the production team moves further in the jungle to the very core of the emerald zone. Giant mountains swallow the caravan in a maze of wilderness. Finally, the crew stands before a tunnel mouth that creeps inside the belly of a beast: a small entrance into an abyss of treasures, the threshold into the emerald mountain. The tunnel is 2500-feet deep with a 500-foot drop at the end of it. A string of bulbs dimly light the way. Dirt packed walls sweat heavily with humidity. Along the path, other tunnels cross, some go miles beneath ground level, others lead to snow-white crystal caves filled with emerald beta. As the crew advances, they stop every few minutes allowing their bodies to adjust to the lack of oxygen. Astonishingly, they manage to capture the essence of the emerald mountain on film.

While traveling to a nearby village, the production caravan encounters a guerilla checkpoint. Bodyguards spot the suspicious clan and all vehicles are given the sign to flee immediately. The getaway is effective, but in the sudden escape, one of the jeeps meets a harsh falling and flips down a steep road. All passengers are injured and the jeep ends up mashed in a ditch. Village people hear the crash and rush to help. The six men in the jeep are taken out of the wreck and rushed to a local hospital. The jeep is totaled.

On a quiet evening a soldier from a nearby mine camp delivers an official message: Martin Rojas, Hayata's nemesis, demands the crew pull out. He threatens to sabotage the production. The word quickly spreads causing panic. While an outraged Hayata deals with Rojas the same night, the producers arrange to have the film taken out of the mine immediately. Before dawn, a pack of armed soldiers take a ride into the city. Four days later they return; the footage is safe and the show goes on.

The following week after a squall in the jungle, the caravan is blocked by a rockslide on a narrow mountain cliff. Hayata's soldiers break through the debris with shovels, picks and rope. Soon vehicles start to move through, but the camera truck slips and hangs on the brim of the cliff. The 600-foot fall beneath is clear as daylight. The crew, bodyguards and soldiers pull with rope at the truck; somehow they salvage it from fatality.

On the fourteenth week a violent tropical rainstorm takes the crew by surprise when heavy pouring sets in for five consecutive days. Unable to move, the last of the production stands by. In the aftermath of the rainstorm, all roads leading out of the central mine are washed away. The production must wait for the mud to dry. The last of the action sequences is shot without sound.

Two weeks later, the last vehicles are pulled out. What had been a caravan of fifty people entering the mines not long ago, was now a moderate trail of two jeeps taking home the last eight crew members. Whatever they had felt passing through the same roads for the first time was now a distant memory. Few words were exchanged on the journey back as night fell like a blanket over the jungle. They knew that was the last time they would see the powerful Andean mountains.

Four months of living on the edge. Surviving the unknown and embracing a hard but extraordinary way of life. The journey had far exceeded any expectations. Emerald Cowboy prospered under a rare and unorthodox style of independent filmmaking.