Ecuador Part II: Mountains and Molehills in the High Andes

The High Andes of Ecuador are spectacular, magical, and inspiring. Yet thin air, steep trails, and locals who would rather throw water balloons at tourists then give directions add a bit of a challenge. The second half of our Ecuadorian travels are filled with gasp inducing vistas and storybook villages as we make our way south through ancient cities, having more than our share of adventures along the way…

The giant ice covered peak of Cotopaxi welcomes us to the High Andes as we head south from Quito. Our first destination is Chugchilan – a small indigenous town at the far end of the Quilotoa loop, which is a bumpy dirt road that loops high into the Andes from the Panamerican and weaves through colorful mountain villages and breathtaking scenery. After a challenging bus ride from Quito – although they said they stopped at the bus station at our connection point, they instead they throw our bags out in the middle of a random road and tell us to get out! – and an extremely uncomfortable ride to Chugchilan (four long hours + washed out sand/rock road + 25-year-old padding on a metal frame = broken bum), we arrive at the inviting Black Sheep Inn – an ecolodge equipped with composting toilets and plenty of wonderful vegetarian food. We relish our time acclimatizing to the high altitude by a cozy fire and going on a series of dramatic day-hikes to plateaus covered in lupine and punctuated by volcanic crater lakes.

After three days, we head to Riobamba – the start of the Nariz del Diablo tourist train. After the obligatory ride, and a stop in the derilict mountain town of Alausi, we head to Cuenca. Rivaling Quito in its colonial grace, Cuenca is a mid-size city full of culture, museums, and welcoming cafes. We spend five days relaxing, exploring the cobblestone streets, and sipping hot chocolate. Although time is pushing us toward Peru, we decide to make one more stop in Ecuador at the city of longevity – Vilcabamba. A mountain village with an eternal spring climate, Vilcabamba is legendary for the number of centenarians who live nearby. The people are friendly (especially several wonderful visiting gringos we meet along the way) and the hills are covered with inviting trails and fragrant flowers. Our french-owned hotel is an oasis in itself, with glorious bamboo-thatched rooms and a filling petit dejunar served on the terrace. We could stay oh-so-much longer in this enchanting village, but instead we push on, making the long journey in the rain to a little used border crossing high in the Andes.

Best moment: Running through the dirt roads of Zumbaha, along with thousands of indigenous people, as helicoptors carrying the triumvarate of leftist South American presidents – Rafael Correa (Ecuador), Hugo Chavez (Venezuela), and Evo Morales (Bolivia) – circle overhead. We stand on a mud ledge with legions of others as the helicoptor lands, kicking tons of loose sand into the faces of the onlookers. Military soldiers swarm around the helicopter and the door opens. Correa – President-elect of Ecuador – emerges in an indigenous shirt and waves to his people. The crowd cheers and surges forward, eager to touch Correa´s hand amidst the chaos. Secret service police help Correa reach a waiting SUV, and a procession of vehicles make their way the 1/2 mile back to the town square – where thousands more indigenous folk await – many having made the 20 hour-plus trip from the Amazon and other far flung provinces in order to witness this unofficial “indigenous” inaugration of the new President. 20 minutes later, Chavez and Morales join Correa on stage, and a variety of ceremonies – both Catholic and native – begin. We leave before the Presidents begin their speeches (an arduous and gorgeous day hike awaits us), but back at the hotel we hear from others in attendance that we missed a rousing rant from Chavez criticizing the developed world, especially the US, and calling for Correa´s partnership in making change happen in South America.

Two most unfortunate misadventures:

1) Another road trip gone awry. Public transport is spotty at best around the stunning Quilotoa loop, so we are very thankful when an Irish family we meet at the hotel offers us a lift back to the Panamerican, where many buses make their way South. Five adults, one five year old, four backpacks, and several other pieces of luggage all manage to fit (just barely!) into a rented Suzuki Sidekick for the estimated two-hour journey winding through scenic Andean villages and terraced farms. After an hour on a bumpy dirt road we hit pavement and congratulate ourselves at successfully navigating the wild Andean roads. But 20 minutes later, we round a bend and find the road blocked by a large dirt barricade. We see multiple tire tracks circumventing the road block, so we do as they did and drive around it, only to find the end of the road 200 ft later amid several houses. ¨Does this road head back to the Panamerican?¨ we ask a bored looking construction worker. He shakes his head and points back from whence we came. So we turn around, retrace our steps around the barricade and search for another likely road.

We find a wide dirt road that looks well used and heads in the right direction. So we follow it as the road forks several times, each time taking the well tread road (lesson learned – always take the road less traveled). Soon, the road gets bumpier, until the boulders in the road are so big that most of us get out as Aaron, our intrepid driver, navigates through them. We continue for another half-mile or so until we come to a crest and see that the narrow cracks in the road become deep gorges, and the scattered rocks become large boulders. We look at each other and realize this isn´t a road at all – it´s a river bed! Aaron begins to back slowly up the road when the road gives way beneath one the Sidekick´s tires and a quarter of the car is now in one of the small ravines that line the side of the road. Aaron´s efforts to drive the car out of the hole leads to more dirt giving way, and we all begin to panic. Luckily, Aaron and Nelson save the day by combining the tire jack with a fence post that Nelson cuts free from a nearby fence, and 10 minutes later the Sidekick is ready to roll backwards up the riverbank again.

As we are loading ourselves back into the car, we hear a voice say, “Are you lost.” We look up to see a well-dressed, mustachioed local who has been watching our dilemma from below. “We are trying to get back to the Panamerican,” we say, “the paved road seems to end in that small town. Do you know the way?” “The bridge is out,” he says, “You have to turn around.” “There must be a way through,” we respond. “There is,” he says, “I can show you… for $10.” Ha, we respond, unbelieving his shameless entrepreneurial zeal. “You will never find it on your own,” he says. In desperation, we consider his greedy offer for a moment before deciding to forge it alone. We leave the local in our dust, as he shakes his head, saying we will just get more lost.

We make our way back to a logging camp (where a group of loggers apper to be cutting down the last stand of pines in the entire region). A full truck begins to ramble past, and Nelson flags them down, asking if they know the way back to the Panamerican. Follow us, they say, that´s where we are going! So we follow the ancient logging truck at a snail´s pace and at a safe distance (its cargo looks ready to tumble at any moment). It curves onto a sandy dirt road barely visible, crossing the paved road and passing on the other side of the small village we stopped in earlier. The road widens and other cars appear. We are on our way, we all agree. But soon cars start passing us in the opposite direction, waving their arms to indicate the road is closed. Other cars in front of us turn around, but we keep following the friendly loggers. Then we see the problem: another logging truck lost its load, dumping a large pile of logs into the road. A group of men stand around, assessing the problem – including the mustachioed man who wanted our $10! The two friendly loggers, Nelson, and Aaron join the group and soon everyone is working to clear the road, lifting the sticky logs to the side. Ten minutes later the road is cleared and we are in the car, although Nelson and Aaron are covered in pine tar. Another 10 minutes and we are back on the paved road and we wave to the friendly loggers as we pass them. Another half-hour later we reach our destination and bid adieu to the family after surviving yet another wild road trip. We head South and they head North, now with plenty more space to stretch out luxuriously in the Sidekick…

2) Another hiking trip gone awry. One of the most beautiful day hikes from the charming village of Vilacabamba is to a lovely waterfall in Podocarus National Park . The hike is long, but not necessarily challenging, so as we begin to make our way back to town from the waterfall midafternoon, we examine the small hand drawn map given to us by our hotel. The map appears to show a way to make the trail into a loop hike if you cross overland down to a small bridge that crosses a rushing river. All we need to find is a large rock and a gate that marks where to cross down. Easy enough. So we hike leisurely past groups of mooing cows through the rolling hills, in search of this gate. We find it easily, and make our way downhill on a loosely defined trail. After 10 minutes of hiking, the trail almost disappears and we have yet to see the next landmark that is marked on the map, plus we are out of water. Did we take the right path, we wonder?

We continue to forge down, through a burned corn field and into lusher terrain. We find another path that looks well tread and follow it deeper into the tropical vegetation. Sticker plants begin to appear, catching on our pant legs and shirts. The vegetation gets even thicker, and soon we are forcing our way through a jungle of sticker plants and vines, wishing we had a machete as our fingers begin to bleed. The ground gets steeper and the trail fades away. We can hear the river so close – the bridge must be nearby! We push our way a bit further through the thick greenery, and come to a steep dropoff. As Nelson maneuvers down it, the ground gives way and he slides down, grabbing a vine to prevent a much longer fall. He pulls himself upright and we part the vines to look for a river crossing, but what we see is a madly rushing river, with a cliffs on one side and a steep drop off on the side where we sit! There is no crossing this river.

We look up at the steep incline we just descended and reluctantly agree we must turn around. We slowly begin our ascent. As we pull ourselves up a particularly tough incline, the ground gives way under Jamaica and becomes a small cliff. As she begins slipping back toward the river, Nelson grabs her hand and she hangs from it as she tries to regain footing, dangling over the dropoff. He manages to pull her up onto the dirt. We have survived an action movie moment! This was definitely NOT the right path. 30 minutes later we reach the main trail, where the cows are still happily chewing grass. They watch us disinterestedly as we trudge back down the trail, making our way toward cold drinks and hot showers.

Most overrated site: The Nariz del Diablo train. The supposed “most dangerous train in the world” is a five hour trip to nowhere, where, after four hours of sitting on the hard, ridged metal roof in the cold, the train performs a series of switchbacks down a steep mountain in the last 30 minutes of the ride, before turning around and heading back from where it came. On the day we happend to be traveling, the train was delivering a bulldozer to a mine at the bottom of the mountain, so we had the joy of waiting for about two hours as they loaded the bulldozer and another hour as they delivered the bulldozer, making the entire experience a 10 hour non-adventure. Although interesting from an engineering perspective, this adventure does not warrant the time or the money, and it is not even unique (the train to Machu Picchu also has a series of switchbacks.) If they still used it as a true passenger rail service, it would be great, but as a tourist attraction, it is lacking…

Most underrated site: Watching the Andean women in full pleated skirts, bowler hats, and penny loafers (with heels!) run up a 45 degree incline, slippery dirt mountain while us gringos trudge along like turtles in full outdoor gear.

Best meal: So many fabulous meals during this week! First, at the political rally in Zumbaha for Correa, we ate freshly fried papas fritas covered with a fried egg and hot sauce from a street vendor. One of the best breakfasts of our trip! Next, after our laborious day hike from Laguna Quilotoa, we had a vegetarian feast at the Black Sheep Inn of creamy broccolli soup and rich Shepherd´s pie. The perfect meal to refuel. After our trying day on the Nariz del Diablo train, we ate with the locals at a wonderful streetside roast chicken stand. Served with spicy coleslaw and potatoes, it was the perfect meal for about a $1. In Cuenca we indulged twice in spiked hot chocolate at Cocoa y Canela – a bar devoted to dozens of alcoholic chocolate drinks. Finally, also in Cuenca, we had fresh and tasty Colombian arepas (thick, homemade tortillas topped with beans, vegetables, meat and other toppings) at El Molido; better than any arepa we had in Colombia!

Favorite people:The Irish family! We shared a fabulous journey with this wonderful family from Galway – Jenny, Kai, Aaron, and their wunderful mum shared the wee bit of space in their car with us, and a big adventure! We hope our paths cross again – either in Ireland, California, or somewhere in between!

Quotes of the week:
1)Jamaica to Nelson: “Are you ok?”
Nelson: “Air – just can´t seem to get enough of it.”
– During our marathon high-altitude day hike across plateaus, through gorges, and up mountains from the gorgeous Laguna Quilatoa back to our hotel in Chugchilan.

2)“Travel books are lucky that pictures aren´t scratch and sniff.”
– Nelson, on the bus leaving Cuenca.

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