Letter to the faithful

Dear Reader,

I am writing to apologize for not updating the blog in awhile. I still need to post entries about our trek through the Quilotoa region, as well as an update from the time my parents were here. These, I promise, are coming soon.

I was able to update my photo albums, so if you are interested, you can look through them to find some new material.

Thank you for your patience,

Tim

Río Pita, revisited

From Rio Pita

On Good Friday, we were invited to tour the Río Pita with our landlady, Sandra, and her family. We met at the casa at around 7:00 am, Mary and I climbing into the back of her father´s pickup, while Eve found her way into the cab. After about half an hour, we arrived in the village of Selva Alegre. Eve and I switched places, so that I could naviagate the dirt roads from here, having been over this particular section with Mary before.

Soon, we arrived at the bridge over the Río Pita and then, shortly thereafter, at the ecological reserve, complete with a resaurant and trout ponds. we parked the truck, paid the entry fee ($2.00) and began climbing along the ridge above the river. The forest was filled with eucalyptus and bamboo. Eventually climbing to an overlook, we were thwarted by clouds from seeing many of the surrounding volcanos. We descended down from the ridge and into the box cayon of the Río Pita.

Hiking along the river, there were numerous waterfalls and rapids. The vegetation in the canyon was distinctly different from the forest above, being lusher and more "tropical." There were also numberous small waterfalls and springs eminating from the cliff walls of the canyon. we eventually made our way down to the main attraction: La Cascade de Rumiñahui. This was quit impressive, blasting us with mist as we approached.

Climbing back up to the reserve, we ate a lunch of locally farmed rainbow trout before pilling back into the truck. For the ride back, as it was raining, we opted to smash everyone into the cab. Soon, Sebastian, Sandra`s three year old son, was lying across Eve´s and my lap, sleeping contentedly. The ride back to Quito was complicated by a wrong turn which got us lost for a short time, but after perhaps an hour, we were back in the city.

To see a slide show of photos of our hike along the Río Pita, check out my Picasa Web Album.

Thermas de Papallacta

As compensation to Mary for hiking with me and to Eve for practically finishing her writing, we decided to spend Thursday at the Thermas de Papallacta, reputed to be the finest thermal baths in Ecuador. Packing our bag, we took a taxi to the Terminal Terrestre, from where we caught a bus bound for the village of Papallacta, on the east side of the Cordillera Oriental. The bus was comfortable, but left late. We then literally drove around Quito in circles for nearly an hour, stopping only once to pick up a single passenger. This seemed rather pointless, and I still do not understand what we were doing. Anyhow, we were soon in Papallacta pass (4100m) and from there it was a short ride to our stop and the entrance to the thermal baths.

We got off the bus and hired a ride up the road one mile to the baths themselves. Mary was gracious and paid for our entrance fee. Inside, there were a number of large pools filled with hot water. The water was steaming and the cool air, low clouds and lush vegetation of the valley made the baths seem especially enticing. We changed out of our clothes and into our bating suits, storing out belongings in baskets. Slipping my sore and tired body into the warmth of the water was a pleasure too rich for words. We soaked for a long while, occasionally dipping briefly into a pool of frigid river water before returning to the pools fed by the hot springs, making our skin tingle and burn.

After a long while, we eventually gave in to our hunger and dressed for lunch. There was nothing outstanding about the food at the restaurant. The lemonade (I had three glasses) and the desert however were outstanding.

After some debate, and figuring we had another hour, we put our bathing suits back on and walked over to another section of the Thermas. Here we found more pools and to our delight, one small pool of exceptionally hot water. Mary and I slipped in, letting the residual soreness in our legs melt away. Eve soon followed and was equally pleased she had decided to bathe again following lunch. It was getting late, but before leaving, I tried out the grotta de vapor (steam cave), which was little more than a room with hot, steaming water running under the floor boards. I did not find the air in the “cave” hot enough to really enjoy and so soon found Mary and Eve again, changing in preparation for our departure.

Reluctantly, we readied our things and walked back down to the highway. Here we waited with an Ecuadorian couple for quite some time. We drank a bottle of Coke from a restaurant on the corner (named “La Esquina,” no less) and still no bus. As it got darker and began to rain, Eve began to flag down passing cars to ask for rides back to Quito. Eventually, a couple in a pickup stopped. They explained that buses back to Quito do not stop at the same place as buses dropping people at the Thermas. They were nice enough to offer us a ride to the correct place to catch our bus and, along with the other couple, we hopped in the bed of the truck for the short ride through the village. Standing in the rain in the fading light of the coming night, we soon flagged down a bus headed to Quito. The bus was crowded and we were fortunate enough to get the three remaining seats. The Jackie Chan movie “Maximum Betrayal” was already playing and we settled in for the long ride back to Quito, feeling happy and relaxed from our day at the Thermas.

Guagua Pichincha

From Guagua Pichincha

As Eve was still busy writing for her Masters program, Mary and I were on our own for the trek from the village of Lloa, over the Pichincha massif, back to Quito via the Teleférico. We intended to overnight at the refugio and climb Guagua Pichincha (4794m/15,728 feet) along the way. We had been told that this was a difficult route and that we would need a guide. As there was a road all the way to the refugio and having twice seen the overland section from the summit of Ruco Pichincha, I was incredulous that this was indeed the case and eager to see for myself just how difficult the route finding would be.

Linguistic Note: Guagua, pronounced “WA-wa,” is a Quechua word for “boy” or “child” and it is in common use in Quito, replacing “niño.” And though you may have learned that words in Spanish that end in the letter “A” are (with a few exceptions) feminine, this rule does not apply to Quechua words, which abound in Ecuadorian Spanish.

Packing our bags the day before, we left early on Tuesday morning, under overcast skies. We walked down to the taxi stand and negotiated a ride to the road to Lloa, in the south of Quito. From there, we rode in the back of a pickup (officially a busita), stopping along the road to take on additional passengers, out to the village, nestled in a lush, green valley west of Quito on the southern flank of the Pichincha massif. We were dropped off near the main square, which we toured, popping into the church, and buying some water at a tienda. Everyone we met was friendly and helpful, answering our call for directions up the mountain as we walked through town.

We walked out of the village and up a cobble stone road towards the mountain, shrouded in a thick blanket of fog. Lining the way was a rainbow of wildflowers, and the road was flanked with fields planted with cabbage and beans or filled with grazing cattle, sheep and horses. We met large groups of camponistas harvesting together, whom we would likewise ask for directions. Despite the fact that there was a road to the refugio, none of the many roads outside of town were signed or mapped, so finding our way through this maze to our intended route was not easy. To this, the directions we were getting from most people we asked coupled a hand gesturing towards the mountain with the simple pronouncement “mas arriba,” which basically means “further up.” We kept walking, snapping pictures along the way, until finally we stopped to speak with an old man working in a field filled with yellow and orange butterflies. He explained that there were many routes through the fields and that they all basically converged on the road to the refugio. This explained the vagueness of directions earlier received. He likewise discouraged us from continuing on our chosen course, instead counseling us to turn around for the route directa. This I foolishly took to mean the normal route.

The direct route led us straight up the mountain on a road through fields filled with busy hands harvesting and past the small cinder block and corrugated steel homes of the field workers. Things were looking up. However the road eventually petered out, transforming into a steep and muddy track running along a fence line through pastures of grazing cattle. At one point, we came upon a family working in a field. The small children sent out the alarm, repeatedly screaming “Mami, Gringos!” as we hiked pasted, alerting everyone to our presence.

We continued up the direct route until finally it did indeed take us to the road to the refugio. As Mary was already struggling with the altitude, we were relieved to be walking once again on solid ground. By this point, we had walked into the clouds that we had seen from below. The air was wet and cool: perfect for hiking. At one point, we came upon a group of young bulls. We whistled them out of our way as we cautiously walked by. As we climbed higher, we began to recognize the flowers of the páramo. This alone told us we were getting near 4000 meters (13,000 feet) above sea level. Mary continued to struggle with the climb, so we decided to do some load shifting to lighten what she had to carry. This helped, and after a short while we were well above tree line and back in the páramo, which I have come to love, as it reminds me so much of Alaskan alpine tundra.

By the end of the afternoon, we had made it to the refugio. We had passed the caretaker on the way up and he had told us how to get in and that there was water. He did not ask us to pay the user fee though, which I assume is because the outhouse and stove kitchen gas were locked up. This was not a problem for us though, as we had brought our own stove with gas. The building itself was spacious and clean compared to the refuigo at Los Ilinizas. However, here a strong smell of gasoline permeated everything. I assume this was from some sort of treatment that had been applied to the wood floors, but it honestly smelled more like open gas cans were being stored somewhere in the building. We opened the windows to no avail. Also, the water (rain water collected off the roof) had a strong taste of moss. (Mary observed that one of the collecting pipes may have had moss growing in it.) For anyone who has not tasted this, make some moss tea. You will find as we did that the unpleasantness of the flavor is only matched by how difficult it is to cover up. As such dinner consisted of moss-flavored chicken soup with rice. Mary didn’t have much appetite, due no doubt to the altitude (4500m/14,800 feet) but I was hungry and so quite disappointed with how our food turned out.

Despite the smell, we both slept well and in the morning, I made some moss-flavored tea. I was still hoping that double-strength Gatorade would be able to cover the flavor of the water. Sadly, this was not the case. Resigned to drinking moss water, we packed our bags for the hike back to Quito across Pichincha. Leaving our bags in the refugio, we hiked up the crater rim in thick fog. After visiting a shrine to the Virgen of Pichincha, we walked up the ridge to a marker. As I waited for Mary, I was able to briefly see through the fog a point farther along the ridge that appeared higher than the point with the marker. When Mary arrived, we decided to hike to the next point I had seen. When made it to the bottom of a steep section of rock, that required some scrambling to scale. This done, we took some photos of this, the true (unmarked) summit, before heading back down to the refugio. Sadly, the crater had been completely filled with clouds the entire time we spent on the rim. We passed some hikers on the way back down and told them as much.

Back at the refugio we collected our bags and set out on our chosen path. Passing some horses, we hiked off trail to the prominent ridge northeast of the refugio, leading to Padre Encantanto, another summit on the Pichincha massif. On the ridge, we found an obvious trail. It seemed that the difficulty of the route finding had indeed been exaggerated. This, coupled with Mary’s improvement over the day before, lifted our spirits. We hiked east in and out of the fog, climbing to the base of Padre Encantanto. The surrounding country was rugged and beautiful with many potential campsites, small creeks and ponds. From here we traversed north, over to a low pass between Ruco Pichincha and Padre Encantanto, traversing our way to the base of Ruco, getting stuck only once in some rocky cliffs. From here we turned east again and began climbing to the saddle just below the summit of Ruco. The trail dissolved into the steep silty mud of the mountain. We climbed in thick fog to the base of a cliff from where we could hear the voices of climbers on Ruco echoing strangely in the mist. It was a short traverse left up and over the saddle. The fog had turned to misting rain and we were glad to be back on familiar terrain. We quickly headed down the mountain in intermittent rain and heavy fog. (Mary and I estimated the maximum visibility, meaning I could make out Mary’s silhouette, to be no more than twenty yards.) Finally we made it back to the Teleférico for the short ride back to Quito and the completion of the Pichincha traverse.

To see a slide show of photos of our climb up Guagua Pichincha and across the Pichincha massif, check out my Picasa Web Album.

Ruco Pichincha, revisited

From Ruco Pichincha

As Mary was undable to climb Ruco the last time due to altitude sickness, and as Eve was busy with here Masters Program, Mary and I decided to try to climb Ruco again. We walked to the Teleferico at around 9:30 and rode it to the top. The weather was perfect for hiking: sunny with a cool breeze. We made our way more slowly this time, allowing plenty of time for Mary to get used to hiking at above 15,000 feet, taking plenty of pictures of wild flowers in the páramo along the way.

Near the summit, we fell in with an Irishman named Stephen. We climbed to the top, took some victory photos and enjoyed the magnificent view before headin down. Neither Mary nor I felt the ill effects of the altitude, save for a little dizzyness near the summit. We rode the Teleferico back down to Quito, said good bye to Stephen and walked home, arriving at the casa at around 6:30. All in all a great day out and a wonderful way to spend the day and get some exercise.

To see an updated slide show of photos of our climbs up Ruco Pichincha, check out my Picasa Web Album.

Río Pita

As Eve has been busy lately with her Masters Program, Mary and I have been on our own.

So last Tuesday, we decided to take a hike to the Río Pita, a highly recommended hike in our guide book. We left the house at around 10:00, taking a bus to Avenida 12 de Octrobre where, so the guide said, we could catch a bus to the pueblo of Selva Alegre (lit. "Happy Jungle"). We waited around for twenty minutes and no bus. We asked and were told we had to walk down the street a distance, as the bus did not come to that part of 12. After perhaps 45 minutes, we finally found the bus we needed and took it to the village, another 45 minutes away. In the village, at the final stop, we were supposed to be able to hire a 4x4 to take us to the trailhead. However, in the village square, despite what were had read, there were no camionetas waiting. After asking around and criss-crossing the village for an hour, we finally flagged down a regular taxi, hoping the driver would be able to tell us something. This is when the real adventure began.

First the taxi driver was confused, seeming not to know anything about the Río Pita. He phoned a friend for directions. We hopped in the cab and he drove us to a street ten minutes away, asking then which building we wanted. I explained again, and in a little more detail, that we wanted to go hiking in the country, along the river, through the forest and up to the waterfalls. He then smiled, took us back to Selva Alegre and again began asking for directions. We drove around for about an hour before finally finding the right road. This despite the directions in the guide, which made access seem straight-forward. Mary and I were relieved as the trip, again according to the guide, was only supposed to take twenty minutes. Finally after an hour over rough cobblestone in the forest, we made our way to the trailhead, a bridge over the Río Pita. By then it was getting too late to go hiking, and we were not sure how we would get back. Also, the taxi driver wanted $70 for the day, and we only had $30 between the two of us. (Again, the guide said it would cost $12 each way.) We told the taxista that we could only pay him $30 and that it would be better to head back to the village. We drove back, getting stuck momentarily as a heard of cows blocked the road. Though clearly disappointed, the taxista never got angry and continued to point things out to us the entire drive back to the village. In Selva Alegre again, three hours after we had first stepped into the taxi, we said our apologies to our driver before getting on a bus back to Quito and home.

All in all, a $30 failure as far as hiking was concerned. I also did not take a single photo. We may return to Selva Alegre in the future though, as the were spit-roasted cuyes (guinea pigs) and higo con queso (fig with cheese), both of which are traditional Ecadorian foods difficult to find in Quito. It is also the jumping off point for other hikes in and near Cotapaxi National Park, an area of Ecuador we have yet to explore.

Futbol

Last Sunday was the Brazil-Ecuador World Cup qualifier. As you would expect, Ecuador was playing as an underdog. This fact was tempered a little by the altitude here in Quito, which should give the Ecuadorian players an advantage over their lowland rivals.

Anyway, we met some friends in "Gringolandia" (aka La Mariscál) and headed to the stadium at around 11:00. This despite the fact that the game did not start until 4:00. The stadium, as we had been warned, was already quite crowded and got even more so as the day wore on. We were fortunate enough to find seats, near the beer, the stairs and the goal: good seats... or so we thought. As the stadium filled, fans began sitting on the stairs, which soon completely filled with people. This situation caused anyone wanting to go up or down the stadium to walk, more or less, through and around those people, which meant that we had people pushing by us, stepping on our seats and tripping over our feet, whenever there was a pause in the action. Annoying, to say the least.

Otherwise, things went well. Despite a little rain before the showdown, the weather was generally good. When the game started, I learned a lot of new vocabulary quickly. For instance, I now know the words "puta," "puto," "hijo de puta," "cabrón," etc. This vernacular was used to describe both the referees and the Brazilian players. For instance when the Brazilians were introduced at the beginning of the match, the MC would pause after each name to give the crowd time to yell something profane and insulting.

The game was quite exciting, with the Ecuadorians clearly outplaying the Brazilians. The biggest problem that Ecuador had was finishing. Ultimately, they controlled the ball nearly the entire game, had more than 20 shots on goal, but scored only one point. Brazil, on the other hand, controlled the ball little, took only a few shots but was able to tie Ecuador. Still, a tie felt like a win and the crowd was generally happy, as their World Cup dreams, though bruised, remained alive going into the game with Paraguay, the top-ranked team in South American.

For the Paraguay game on Wednesday, we met up with friends near the stadium at 2:30. Despite the fact that it was a weekday, the stadium was packed again, and we were not able to find seats together. I eventually found a seat near the middle of the pitch and waited in the sun for the game to begin. The crowd was a little more excited than on Sunday. Bolivia (a generally horrible team) had just beaten Argentina (a generally outstanding team) 6 to 1. Together with their recent non-loss to Brazil, this was taken as a sign that Ecuador would win the day. Chants of "Si se puede!" (Yes we can!) and "Ecuador, Ecuador, este tarde tenemos que ganar!" (Ecuador, Ecuador, this afternoon we have to win!) rang out, filling the bleachers.

Again, when the opposing players were introduced, they were, one by one, slandered by the entire crowd. As soon as the game began, the referee transformed into an equally viable target for insult. After the first half, during which there was nearly a fight between the two teams, the score was still 0 to 0. Paraguay was playing much better football than Brazil had, and the tension in the crowd was palpable. As the second half wore on, things were not looking good for Ecuador: Ecuador could not finish and they needed a win, whereas Paraguay did not. Then Ecuador scored. The crowed went absolutely wild: the cheering drowned out the cry of "Gooooooooooooooool!" from the stadium speakers and beer rained down on us from above like showers from heaven. The dynamic of the game had changed completely. There was little time left for Paraguay to do anything and it looked like Ecuador would win indeed. The end of regulation came and went and the score was still 1 to 0. Then the impossible: Paraguay scored in the final second of the game, tying Ecuador and crushing their hopes of ever making it to South Africa in 2010. This time, a tie definitely felt like a loss.

We left the stadium, and walked through the streets of Quito in a daze, cold in our beer soaked clothes under the fading sun of the day´s end. Eventually, we found our way home, only to be punished by endless replays of that fateful, final kick. Despite our disappointment with the score, we had had a wonderful time at the games, learned a lot of useful Spanish, and made some new friends.

I don't have any photos of the games, as I was nervous about taking my camera with me. Eve and Mary took some and I will try to post a link to these shortly, so you can all see what it was like.