Hiking and stuff
Quilotoa loop
In Latacunga found a scrubby bit of ground next to the bus station and had a picnic. Almost missed the bus as it blasted its horn to get us moving. Hilly scenery, fields perched at 45 degrees. Jumped in the back of a pick up, bouncing along waving at kids, mountains, ravines, women in traditional dress, pork pie hats, brightly coloured shawls. Dropped off in Quilotoa (3854m), tiny hamlet, bleak, windy, clouds billowing across the mountain. The primitive hostel provided thick blankets, a pile of wood and a stove in our room. Toasty warm in front of the fire.
During the day hiked down to the center of the volcano, which held an emerald lake. We hiked the mountain ridge for five hours which circled the lake. The path was loose and sandy, great rocks came away in your hands. The path shrinking to just a few centimeters with precipitous drops either side. Later lay in a field, relaxing in the sun and saw a cloud stop and go back the way it came. The winds are very strange here.
Worst evening meal ever. A bowl of Potatoes boiled until dry, heaped with spaghetti and topped with a scrambled omelet, and not a drop of sauce or veg. Strangely the family had it again for breakfast. They must of liked it.
Hiked all the next day through a mountainous gorge to Chugchilan a little village on the edge of the cloud forest. Sheep grazing amongst the flowers, the sun had come out and the wind had dropped, fields of maize, donkeys munching and as we walked down amongst this remote mountain scenery we were joined by a chap who proceeded to play his trombone. The various donkeys in valley also joined in as a chorus. Bit surreal really.
Got back to Quito, after no alcohol for a while, got quickly hammered on the free rum and coke, but met a really cool girl called Rachel, hippy chick needless to say and she gave me a jar of marmite - neat.
Went to Baños and did some great solo hikes, so steep I could barely keep my feet, not sure if walking or falling. My favourite was a donkey path, loose rocks, lots of mud. The dry surface would break enveloping my foot in brown sticky liquid goo. Plantations of tree tomatoes dangling like vines. Massive brightly coloured insects, flies the size of cigarette butts, giant beetles, spiders, surrounded by so many butterflies and all manner of plants. Every time I stopped I saw something new.
The path got smaller and smaller the higher i went, out of the shade of the forest the heat was stifling, awesome views. Eventually the path ran into an meadow which was deceptive. The field looked like an even blanket of ankle deep grass, except it was hiding the most uneven of uneven ground. It was like walking in snow, one minute you are standing on top the next waist deep, except there were big spiders strung between the stalks.
Hired a mountain bike on a hot day, peddling along I came through a cool mist and saw a dam blast huge columns of spray up into the air. Breathing in deeply the cool moist air I noticed the brown colour of the river. Then the very familiar smell of excrement. Did not feel so refreshed.
Some great biking, waterfalls and dirt tracks, except I had to go through a tunnel. No lighting, filthy water pouring from the roof, the passage totally flooded, no footpath and just my luck I get a bloody great bus appearing up my arse belching out black smoke. Luckily I had my head torch on as there was no room for it to pass.
Watched a lady come out of her restaurant, bend down and start sharpening her carving knife on the curb stone in the street. Ran her thumb down it and return to her chopping. I decided not to eat there.
Caught the train from Riobamba, sat on the roof and watched the scenery go by. Kids and dogs running after the train. It´s 6 am and people are coming out of their homes to wave. Should try this at home, it make the journeys much more interesting.
Chilled out in Vilcambamba after stopping in the pretty colonial town of Cuenca. The mountains were drier and edges sharper, by eye I could watch each giant ridge endlessly subdivide to minisule little rivuletes honed by the passage of water.
After several hours hiking on such a mountain ridge I came to point no wider than my backside and pitched down at 45 degrees. It was too far to return so I cheated and slid along on my bottom, until I ended up sitting on a small bolder with my legs dangled into space. Remembering that the ridge was made of nothing more than dried mud I shifted fairly quickly. Later I watched a farmer branding bulls. That night had a perfect clear night sky and saw both the northern and southern constellations with the milky way arching from horizon to horizon.
In Latacunga found a scrubby bit of ground next to the bus station and had a picnic. Almost missed the bus as it blasted its horn to get us moving. Hilly scenery, fields perched at 45 degrees. Jumped in the back of a pick up, bouncing along waving at kids, mountains, ravines, women in traditional dress, pork pie hats, brightly coloured shawls. Dropped off in Quilotoa (3854m), tiny hamlet, bleak, windy, clouds billowing across the mountain. The primitive hostel provided thick blankets, a pile of wood and a stove in our room. Toasty warm in front of the fire.
During the day hiked down to the center of the volcano, which held an emerald lake. We hiked the mountain ridge for five hours which circled the lake. The path was loose and sandy, great rocks came away in your hands. The path shrinking to just a few centimeters with precipitous drops either side. Later lay in a field, relaxing in the sun and saw a cloud stop and go back the way it came. The winds are very strange here.
Worst evening meal ever. A bowl of Potatoes boiled until dry, heaped with spaghetti and topped with a scrambled omelet, and not a drop of sauce or veg. Strangely the family had it again for breakfast. They must of liked it.
Hiked all the next day through a mountainous gorge to Chugchilan a little village on the edge of the cloud forest. Sheep grazing amongst the flowers, the sun had come out and the wind had dropped, fields of maize, donkeys munching and as we walked down amongst this remote mountain scenery we were joined by a chap who proceeded to play his trombone. The various donkeys in valley also joined in as a chorus. Bit surreal really.
Got back to Quito, after no alcohol for a while, got quickly hammered on the free rum and coke, but met a really cool girl called Rachel, hippy chick needless to say and she gave me a jar of marmite - neat.
Went to Baños and did some great solo hikes, so steep I could barely keep my feet, not sure if walking or falling. My favourite was a donkey path, loose rocks, lots of mud. The dry surface would break enveloping my foot in brown sticky liquid goo. Plantations of tree tomatoes dangling like vines. Massive brightly coloured insects, flies the size of cigarette butts, giant beetles, spiders, surrounded by so many butterflies and all manner of plants. Every time I stopped I saw something new.
The path got smaller and smaller the higher i went, out of the shade of the forest the heat was stifling, awesome views. Eventually the path ran into an meadow which was deceptive. The field looked like an even blanket of ankle deep grass, except it was hiding the most uneven of uneven ground. It was like walking in snow, one minute you are standing on top the next waist deep, except there were big spiders strung between the stalks.
Hired a mountain bike on a hot day, peddling along I came through a cool mist and saw a dam blast huge columns of spray up into the air. Breathing in deeply the cool moist air I noticed the brown colour of the river. Then the very familiar smell of excrement. Did not feel so refreshed.
Some great biking, waterfalls and dirt tracks, except I had to go through a tunnel. No lighting, filthy water pouring from the roof, the passage totally flooded, no footpath and just my luck I get a bloody great bus appearing up my arse belching out black smoke. Luckily I had my head torch on as there was no room for it to pass.
Watched a lady come out of her restaurant, bend down and start sharpening her carving knife on the curb stone in the street. Ran her thumb down it and return to her chopping. I decided not to eat there.
Caught the train from Riobamba, sat on the roof and watched the scenery go by. Kids and dogs running after the train. It´s 6 am and people are coming out of their homes to wave. Should try this at home, it make the journeys much more interesting.
Chilled out in Vilcambamba after stopping in the pretty colonial town of Cuenca. The mountains were drier and edges sharper, by eye I could watch each giant ridge endlessly subdivide to minisule little rivuletes honed by the passage of water.
After several hours hiking on such a mountain ridge I came to point no wider than my backside and pitched down at 45 degrees. It was too far to return so I cheated and slid along on my bottom, until I ended up sitting on a small bolder with my legs dangled into space. Remembering that the ridge was made of nothing more than dried mud I shifted fairly quickly. Later I watched a farmer branding bulls. That night had a perfect clear night sky and saw both the northern and southern constellations with the milky way arching from horizon to horizon.
posted by Richard at
1:58 am
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