quilotoa loop, ecuador´s hidden secret

2

The Quilotoa Loop

Ecuador ’s Hidden

Treasure

Susan Schenck

Photography by Nate Resnick

Copyright 2013 by Susan Schenck and Nate Resnick. All rights reserved.

Except for short excerpts intended to be used for promotional or educational purposes only, no part of

this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or

mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system

without prior permission from the author.

Disclaimer

The purpose of this book is to dispense information. It is sold for information purposes only. The author

and publisher do not assume any responsibility or liability arising from the use of this book.

Cover design: TC Tahoe at [email protected] Cover photo: The Quilotoa Crater Lake: photo taken by Nate Resnick Kindle formatter: Mike Attisano at [email protected]

3

Dedicated to both of our late fathers,

who instilled in us a spirit of adventure

and appreciation of nature

Quilotoa loop area with Volcan Illiniza in the background

The Quilotoa area, high up in the Andes of South America, lies about 43 miles or 70 kilometers southwest of Quito, Ecuador, as the crow flies. Though I’d lived in Ecuador for over three years, I’d never heard of these majestic mountains and villages surrounding the Quilotoa crater lake—a magnificent sight that inspires breathtaking awe, right up there with Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon, the Sahara Desert, and other wonders of the world.

Most foreigners who live in Ecuador have never heard of it. Most surprisingly, even many Ecuadorians I’ve met draw a blank when I mention this hidden treasure.

So when Nate, a professional photographer (whose website is www.nateinecuador.com ). suggested we collaborate on a book about this largely unknown spot, I readily agreed. We invited our friend Peggy to go with us.

Join us on our journey!

4

Our mission with this photo book is to enlighten as many people as possible about this beautiful area. If you can handle the altitude, you don’t have to be a fit hiker to enjoy this area. You can still see most of the sights by taking a bus or car. . . or even riding a horse!

You may even be inspired to go there yourself. When you get ready to make this trip, there are some points to be aware of. The last ATM machine you’ll find is in Latacunga. Also, be prepared to get unplugged! Many of these villages have no Internet, while for those that do, the connection is sketchy and very slow. (In two weeks, there were only two days I could answer a few emails.) Even cell phone connections are unreliable.

Be aware of the Ecuadorian tradition that when you book a room at a hostel, you usually pay per person rather than per room. So often it’s just as cheap for a couple to have separate rooms—great to know if one of them snores!

The hostels are inexpensive but often not what you may be used to. Bring sandals for when you shower. That’s a lesson I learned in my 20s after getting athlete’s foot in a hotel shower. To this day I get occasional flare ups!

Bring a warm sweater—or better yet, don’t. You’ll be overwhelmed with inexpensive alpaca sweaters for sale. Be sure to bring raingear, gloves, sunscreen, hiking boots, and of course, a camera. If you bring a phone, get Claro rather than Movistar. In some of the villages, Claro is the only cell phone that has reception.

Bring plenty of cash, and especially small bills like $10 or under. Change is hard enough to get in Cuenca (the third largest city of Ecuador)—but even scarcer higher up in the Andes. Credit cards are almost never accepted.

Note that when I don’t list the hostel address, it’s because the village is so small, there is no address (or none required). You’ll find the place easily enough due to the size of the town.

Also note that that your mileage may vary—my pedometer readings may be a bit off, making the mileage as much as 10 to 15% higher. Time is the most important variable: figure that it takes about an hour to go a mile due to the uneven terrain.

September 17, 2013: from Cuenca to Alausí

Nate, Peggy, and I all met at the bus station (terminal terreste) in Cuenca, Ecuador at 8:00 AM. Since I detest sitting in buses, we decided to take two days to get there. We caught a bus to Alausí, a four-‐hour drive that costs $5.00. Alausí (elevation 3,323 meters, or 10,902 feet) is a tiny town of about 6,000 inhabitants, famous for its switchback train ride known as Naríz del Diablo which means “devil’s nose.” Rides cost $25 ($14.50 for anyone 65 or older) and are offered at 8:00 AM, 11:00 AM, and 3:00 PM on most days. The ride is 40 minutes each way and when you get to the destination there is a small meal, indigenous dancing, a little museum, and artesanos (handicrafts) for sale.

5

Approaching Alausí

The buildings surrounding the train track are picturesque in a Disneyland sort of way—colonial in style and painted bright pink, orange, turquois, green, etc.

As luck would have it, there are no 3:00 rides on Tuesdays so we missed out (though Nate had already done the ride months ago).

We stayed at the Hotel Europa, costing us only $10 each for separate rooms—but sharing public bathrooms. We walked along a platform with an environmental-‐educating mural painted on the wall. Finally, we walked along a new railroad track bridge (“Puente Negro”) that will eventually lead to rides to Quito. We saw several school children fearlessly walking this track that bridged over a canyon.

We walked around the town, up to the majestic statue of San Pedro, made of colorful mosaics and high up on a platform with stairs leading up. It’s only one of several miradores (lookouts) overlooking the valley. Nate bet us both a beer that he’d beat us by taking an alternate route. He lost. He later paid up by getting us each a 24-‐oz. Pilsener (a popular and inexpensive local beer) for $1.50 a bottle at a Chinese restaurant. As we drank our beer, we noted the children playing ball in the streets. There were so few cars in the town (most of them parked) that they didn’t perceive any danger in this.

6

Statue of San Pedro in Alausí

Finally, we ate at a hole-‐in-‐the-‐wall pizza restaurant with only two tables. The one we ate at was in the family garage, with a kid’s bike and a baby stroller adorning the walls!

I’m not much at long bus rides so Alausí is a perfect overnight stop. I’m transcending into the high Andes. I’m finally getting out of my Cuenca comfort zone and am considering this adventure to be a spiritual journey in addition to just sightseeing. It’s also a journey of discovering what Ecuador is all about.

September 18, 2013: from Alausí to Latacunga

In Eucadorian villages, often Nescafé (a powdered coffee that has very little flavor) is all that’s available. And as the saying goes, “Nescafé no es café,” meaning that it’s not real coffee. We managed to find some real coffee in a bakery around the corner, where we downed a couple of expressos.

7

Me shopping in Latacunga

We hopped on a bus at about 8:00 AM to Latacunga, our first city in the Quilotoa region. The cost for this four-‐hour ride was $4.00. At 10:30 we were all booted off the bus. There weren’t enough passengers to make the trip to Latacunga and Quito worthwhile. But when a policeman came by to hear people complain, we spotted the driver slipping him some money. Nonetheless, the driver was commanded to refund us for the latter part of the trip and we each got a dollar.

Peggy showed us some photos on the bus ride: the guy who collected the money from us had been making out with a woman, all over and on top of her. Not too discrete!

We caught another bus to Latacunga, a city of about 87,000 residents, which spearheaded the Quilotoa Loop. The elevation is about 9,186 feet or 2,800 meters. We got situated in a hotel for $15 each on Quito Street, Hotel Rosim, which has a link at http://www.hotelrosim.com/index.html.

Next we hiked around the city, enjoying a small lake with paddle boats and walking by a river. While I did yoga and Nate took a nap on the lawn, Peggy was talking to nine teenagers in the park: all of them were on Facebook.

8

La Laguna in Latacunga

We noted a big difference in the indigenous women: they were slim and wore shorter skirts, mostly black (as opposed to the colorful ones in Cuenca). Instead of Panama hats, both genders here wore felt hats which sometimes had a peacock feather in them. We learned these hats were not cheap, costing about $75, but lasted a long time and were water-‐proof.

One question I pondered: why were the indigenous women so slim, while in Cuenca they were round and apple-‐shaped?

Diet could be a factor, though I noticed the diets were similar. Perhaps those high up didn’t drink as many sugary soft drinks, for example.

I concluded that in part that the assimilation of the young was a factor in making it appear that those in the Andes were slimmer: in the Andes, the young women were not as integrated: they still wore the traditional outfits. So in Cuenca, they assimilated and sported tight jeans, not standing out as indigenous. Latacunga doesn’t get much tourism because Quito is only a two-‐hour bus ride away. There are also few people of Spanish descent. All of this adds up to less influence on modern fashion. The indigenous stick to their traditions much more.

That was only part, though. Even the older indigenous women were notably slimmer than those in Cuenca. I concluded that the higher altitude was a factor—as I explain in my book Expats in Cuenca, Ecuador: The Magic & The Madness, high altitude means burning more calories—and even 100 a day adds up to ten pounds a year! Then I learned that the altitude in Latucunga is only about 1,000 feet higher than that of Cuenca.

I decided the factor was probably mostly due to walking: the 25-‐cent buses mean less walking for those in Cuenca. Latacunga is such a relatively small town that most people simply walk everywhere.

9

We went in search of some dark chocolate, which took about an hour to find, after asking quite a few people. Finally we stocked up on a few large bars, knowing this could be our last chance as we headed higher up in the Andes.

Me walking around Latacunga

This will be my last night before tackling the unknown of the Andes highlands. I have a sense of foreboding, as well as the mystical and intriguing.

September 19, 2013: from Latacunga to Tigua

As we hit the streets at 7:30 AM we realized chocolate was not the only thing that was scarce—real coffee was also hard to find this early in the morning. People were getting haircuts and the streets were alive with children going to school. But where could we find a cup of coffee? Funny how so many people in Ecuador, known for its coffee and chocolate, didn’t relish their most popular exports. We finally got a cup at a hotel that opened at 8:00.

Next we walked to the bus terminal and got $1.00 tickets to Tigua, a very small village with an elevation of 11,482 feet or 3,500 meters. A three-‐day-‐old calf joined us in the luggage department. An indigenous man explained that he bought the fellow for $45 because the newborn calf of one of his cows had died.

In about hour we arrived at Tigua and walked with our backpacks to the Posada de Tigua, where we’d stay the night. http://www.amigosdelasaps.org/content/la-‐posada-‐de-‐tigua/edrACEFFE65E00E0AF34

While walking along the freeway, a fierce Andean wind blew me completely horizontal! I had grown up in Indiana where the winter winds could go up to 50 miles-‐per-‐hour, and I’d never, ever experienced being blown over like this.

Extremely alarmed, I noted that had I been standing a foot to the right, I would’ve fallen enough that I surely would have broken some bones, if not my neck! In fact, I may have died.

10

I got away from the curb and joined my two friends as we took a short cut through the hills. Even though it meant walking steep downhill, which I detest, it would keep up from being knocked over by the strong winds.

As we neared the inn where we’d be interviewing the owners, Nate reminded me to “look professional by taking notes.” I showed him my notebook that I’d bought for 25 cents at a stationery store in Cuenca: a cartoon of “little boy blue blowing his bugle” was on the cover!

Posada de Tigua

As we neared the entrance of a magnificent looking ranch house, we passed cows and sheep along with their little ones, as well as llamas, geese, ducks, and dogs. Owners Margarita and Marco Rodriguez-‐Boada gave us a tour: the inn has four guest rooms with private baths and two with no bathrooms. The owners stay in one without a bathroom so that their guests will have that option.

Llamas in Tigua

The place has a very unique “ranch” feeling. Antiques adorn every room and hallway—with old radios sprinkled everywhere, along with antiques such as a sewing machine, phonograph, lanterns, an iron, etc. Sheepskins provide floor décor. There is a wooden stove and after I hand washed some clothes, I learned that metal sticks could be opened that hover over it, so that the clothes can dry while hanging over the fire. There is even an old jukebox filled with songs in Spanish! A huge Bible in Spanish is in the living room.

A huge part of land used to belong to Marco’s great great grandfather, but in the 1960s the government made laws that land had to be dispersed among the indigenous families, some 800 of them. Each indigenous family would divide the land among their children. But eventually the land would be split up

11

into such small plots that the people would have to move to the city to make a living. As a result, much of the land is no longer used for farming.

Posada de Tigua

As for Marco and Margarita, about nine years ago they decided to turn their ranch into an inn, which they’ve had great success with. There are three dining tables because sometimes a tour bus will stop there for dinner, if not to spend the night. There is no wifi or cable Internet, so Margarita has to call her sister in the city to find out if any reservations have been made.

The owners remarked about how the climate had radically shifted in the past decade. By now there should be rain, for example. The cold and warm temperatures have gotten extreme, and at times in the past ten years there have even been mosquitoes. There used to be thousands of little black frogs; now there are none. Now flowers can be planted for export. Since the wind sometimes blows down the green houses, farming became less profitable, which led to the concept of having an inn. They supplement that income by selling milk to places in Latacunga for 32 cents a liter.

Marco told us that he loves the geese, and while they eat their eggs, the birds are meant only for adornment. If his wife threatens to eat any of them, he will tease her that he intends to eat her llamas. Together they enjoy all the animals on their hacienda (ranch).

After a lunch of delicious homemade soup, we tackled the high uphill climb to the various artesano handicraft galleries. Yes, we could’ve taken the long way and gone by the freeway, but we preferred the shortcut going steep uphill. We were instructed to avoid a certain route that could entail some angry dogs. When we got to the top of the hill, we were delighted to find all sorts of handicrafts, including knitted wool hats, paintings (such as unique ones done on feathers!), alpaca sweaters and scarves, painted masks, and much more.

While hiking, I was standing below an outcropping that reminded me of my hike to the top of the formidable Mandango hill in Vilcabamba. To date that has been my most challenging hike in Ecuador. No doubt, the Quilotoa Lake rim would be harder.

12

Here I am hiking around Tigua

In the evening we enjoyed a couple of beers with a couple from Belgium, two medical doctors and their 20-‐year-‐old daughter who are touring Ecuador. I felt like I was back in Europe as I was speaking not only English and Spanish, but also French and German.

I really enjoyed the solitude that this inn offered. With nothing but fatal darkness this moonless night, I was able to go deeply into myself.

September 20, 2013: from Tigua to Zumbahua

Last night the howling Andean winds made me feel glad I was tucked in bed, under a number of thick wool blankets. I pondered how the animals could keep warn in the open barn.

At breakfast we were served Margarita’s homemade cheese (queso fresco) and yogurt. Though I usually don’t eat dairy, I couldn’t resist eating a bit of these treats. We also got real coffee (not Nescafé!), bread with butter and jam, and eggs to order.

I asked the couple about the winds and how I could hear them howling last night. “Sometimes there is no wind,” Margarita stated. “Other times the winds are much, much stronger. Last night was not so fierce, actually.”

I still thought about the wind that had blown me over yesterday. Would I be able to do the crater rim walk without being blown over to my death? The image was beginning to haunt me.

After breakfast, it was time to leave. Marco drew us a map so we could walk to the next city of our tour: Zumbahua, with an elevation of 12,467 feet (3,800 meters).

We each walked at our own pace, catching up or waiting for each other periodically. The hike took five hours and ended up being about 8.6 miles (about 14 kilometers). Peggy and I went ahead but Nate, who way over-‐packed (carrying 35 pounds), wanted to rest some more. I had learned from hiking El Camino

13

de Santiago in Spain earlier this year: carry no more than 10% of your body weight. I pared down my backpack contents till it all weighed no more than 15 pounds, though I weighed about 123.

Peggy and me on the road to Zumbahua

When Peggy and I arrived at Zumahua, we booked rooms at the Condora hostel for $6 each. Later when we saw that the shower was a mere trickle, we switched to the Hotel Quilotoa for $8 each. The water there wasn’t very strong, either, as it turned out. Even the Lonely Planet warned that in this city you needed to be sure to have your flip flops while showering, as things are not clean. I knew from decades ago that showering in cheap hotels without wearing sandals would give me athlete’s foot, an extremely uncomfortable condition I battled for about a decade.

We were the only gringos here. In fact, we were likely the only ones of European descent—the Spanish conquistadores didn’t appear to have settled in these very high regions.

Approaching Zumbahua

After a $2.50 almuerzo (lunch), I went in search of an Internet cabin. I knew the next few days would not include Internet access, so I made this a priority. It should be easy, I thought, since there are three such cabinas in town. The first one I went to had plastic covering the keyboards. A nice concept, I thought, but really my fingers couldn’t adapt. One had to be really adept at using this.

I went to another cabina but my password didn’t work—even after I enlisted help from the teen in charge. Finally, I went to another, but it was full of children with no empty computer. As a last resort I went back to the second and used a different computer. I finally got into my email, but the connection was so slow, I just checked for anything that might be important and then left. Interestingly, all three

14

centers were run by children who looked like they might be 13, but could be older since the population in the Andes tends to be shorter than in Cuenca.

This was my last moment of Internet addiction. After this, I’d care less and less about what emails I might be getting. I fully surrendered to being unplugged.

Town square of Zumbahua

Zumbahua has been the most indigenous town I’ve been in since coming to Ecuador over three years ago. I sense that I am not only not in Kansas, but also pretty far from Cuenca.

Meantime, the streets were being paved and the tar was fresh. I had no choice in my search for an Internet cabina but to step a few times on this tar. My shoes had lost their track from the sticky tar and three times I almost fell. Would I fall while hiking the crater lake rim?

September 21, 2013: from Zumbahua to Quilotoa

I noticed that I had not been sleeping much these days—usually only two or three hours per night. Later I came to realize it was the altitude. We had a joke that whenever something didn’t go right, we’d blame it on the altitude. But sleep has been an issue for me ever since I moved from the sea level of San Diego to the 2,530 meters or 8,300 feet mountains of Cuenca—and now I was going much higher. Breathing was not an issue for me, but sleep sure was.

This morning we were awakened by the booming indigenous music that surrounded the area’s well known market, right in the square in front of the hotel. Everything from pig heads and humitas (Ecuador’s version of tamales) to alpaca ponchos and scarves were for sale. Nate got a red alpaca-‐wool blend poncho for only $25 and persuaded me to get a lovely gray alpaca sweater for $20. I got the price down to $15 because the vendors were anxious to make their first morning sale, which they believe brings good luck in getting the day moving.

15

Saturday market at Zumbahua

We had another pseudo-‐coffee for breakfast, leaving me without my dopamine fix as I was forced to get weaned from the real stuff. Since our backpacks (especially Nate’s) were getting heavier, and since Peggy had some muscle issues, we decided to have some drivers take us the 7.9 miles (12.7 kilometers) to Quilotoa, with its elevation of 12,841 feet (3,914 meters). The hike wasn’t too scenic anyway, since it was just along the road. Since there are no taxis per se in this area, and buses don’t come till around 2:00 PM, hiring a driver seemed to be the only option. In any case, it cost only $5 for the three of us.

Indigenous skirts for sale at the Zumbahua market

In about 15 minutes we got to Quilotoa, with an elevation of 12,841 feet or 3,914 meters. There is no wifi or Internet in this town of only 150 people, so it’s the ideal place to get unplugged for a few days.

16

Quilotoa

We lodged at a relatively new place and definitely the best hotel in town: Quilotoa Crater Lake Lodge, located slightly away from this town of 150 inhabitants.

Their web site is http://www.quilotoalodge.com.ec/

Quilotoa Crater Lake Lodge

40 years ago this area had been barren, but the tourism business gradually encouraged people to settle in.

Next it was time to see the much underrated crater lake. No photos Nate took could do it justice: the sight was on par with any previous wonders I’d ever seen, such as the Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon, the Canadian Rockies, and the Sahara desert. Why had I lived in Ecuador over three years and not heard of this majestic former volcano now filled with a bright turquois lake?

17

The majestic Quilotoa Crater Lake

The lake is a water-‐filled caldera believed by the natives to be without a bottom. It’s the most western volcano in the Ecuadorian Andes. The rim is three kilometers or two miles wide and it typically takes four to six hours to walk the perimeter. The high variety and concentration of minerals make the water alkaline, and the water color shifts from different shades of green, to turquoise and blue. Truly this is the most majestic sight in Ecuador, if not all of South America. Three distinct snow-‐capped volcanoes surround the laguna, adding immensely to the beauty.

What incredible splendor is in this small relatively unknown spot. Only a handful of people in the world on this day can say they are witness to this transformative sight.

The closest thing in the USA would be the Havasupai Falls in Arizona, which is also turquoise in color.

We walked 1,200 feet (366 meters) down. Normally such a steep downhill trek makes me so cautious that I can’t enjoy it—but the steady gaze of the lake soothed my nerves. Even when I had to pass the dusty part where there’d been a rockslide and I had to hold on to a rope to keep from falling, it didn’t bother me. The glorious sight of the lake overpowered my senses.

For those who don’t feel confident about walking the hike, horses can be rented for $8 downhill and another $8 back up. Kayaks are available for $5 per hour per person. Just as hotels are rented not per room, but per person—so are the kayaks, which seat two people.

18

Me at the Princess Toa Hotel

We noted the Princess Toa hotel: these are rooms for rent that contain no electricity or running water, but are right in front of the lake. You can also pitch a tent. Sheltered by the rim, the wind down there won’t be as much of a problem. In order to book one of these rooms, you need to contact Jose Jacome at [email protected] and he will give you his cell phone so you can meet him in the town to get set up. In this region, the cell phone company Claro has service, but Movistar usually doesn’t.

Here I am hanging out in the Quilotoa crater

We went hiking a bit around the lower areas and I grabbed onto a rock for support, unknowingly grasping a cactus that looked like a fern. Many tiny needles pricked my hand, which I plucked out, one by one.

Fortunately, the rocky, dusty trail removed nearly all the tar from the bottom of my shoes. The wind was quite mild compared to that of Tigua, but I still had to remove my sun visor many times to keep it from blowing away.

19

Kayaking in the crater lake

The uphill hike took an hour and 15 minutes. It was tough going up a 1,200 feet (366 meters) vertical and I was singing in my mind, “You’re Only Human” by Billy Joel, especially the part where he goes, “Don’t forget your second wind!” Peggy and Nate had both hiked the Grand Canyon and agreed that it had been easier than this uphill hike—longer, but not as steep.

We were ready for a beer after 6.25 miles (10 kilometers) of hiking accumulated during the day. The restaurant of our hotel ran out of beer, so we went into town and got a few 24-‐ounce Pilseners for $1.50 each plus 25 cents deposit. The bottle cap admonishes, “Disfruta con moderación,” which means, “Enjoy in moderation.”

Quilotoa beach

At 7:00 it was time for dinner, and Marlo the chef prepared what I considered a relatively healthy Paleo diet, devoid of wheat and dairy: chicken, potatoes, the local quinoa soup, and a tree tomato dessert with just a bit of cinnamon and sugar glaze. (Fresh popcorn was our appetizer.)

20

We learned that Fausto, one of the two owners of the lodge, had created the beautiful paintings and painted masks adorning the hotel’s walls. His father, also an artist, created many of the wool items (socks, scarves, sweaters, purses, etc.) for sale in the dining room. The hotel has 10 rooms with the capacity to shelter 22 people. The rooms include hot water and private bathroom. Rooms run $20 per person, but $30 with breakfast and dinner.

Fausto loves his business and meeting people from all over the world. Most of the guests come from other regions of Ecuador, or the USA, Germany and France. The busiest months are July and August because that is when children break from school (even though that is the winter in Ecuador). Next is November, December, and January, when tourists come from the Northern hemisphere on their winter break.

I didn’t expect to sleep much the evening before the big event, but I find myself oddly at peace here. It is so peaceful. Time stands still.

September 22, 2013: walking the Quilotoa Lake Rim

Today was the day I’d been anticipating for over a month, when we first planned this trip. I had even written instructions for loved ones on what to do if I died. I’d read blogs warning not to do this trek, admonishing about how people had fallen to their death. On the other hand, I also knew that the vast majority hadn’t died. But if one of us died, I joked, we’d have to rename this rim the “Kill-‐otoa.”

Here I am hiking the rim of the crater lake

I also felt comfort in hiring a guide: surely he would steer us away from risky areas and he would know alternate paths in case of fierce winds. Francisco was the man. Fausto’s father, age 54, had been guiding this trek since 1985. And his fee was only $30 – not per person, but a flat fee. Weren’t our lives worth $30?

Francisco picked us up at the hotel at 8:00 AM. Sure enough, the wind was blowing—and often I’d have to take my sun visor off in order to keep it from falling down to the lake. Sun visors are hard to find in

21

Ecuador, so I held on tightly. Fortunately it wasn’t as fast and furious as that day in Tigua—otherwise we’d probably have had to postpone the trek.

As we walked around the rim, the vast majority of it was pretty easy. Sometimes the wind was especially fast and our guide would have us bushwhacking behind the rim’s peak. If we had fallen, we might have gotten a bit scraped up, but no broken neck or anything. He also knew all the alternate paths to take if something seemed too hard. But every single time I came back to where the lake was in view, it was almost like seeing it for the first time, soliciting a big “WOW.” I’d just have to stop a minute and appreciate this majestic sight; after all, that’s what we’d come here for.

I’m daring to hike the thin trails of the rim

“You have to stay away from the rim when the wind is strong,” he advised. “Even if the wind is blowing in a safe direction, it can suddenly do a U-‐turn and blow you over!” He also told us of a recent death in the crater rim. A couple from Holland went without a guide. The man was hovering near the rim when he suddenly got dizzy, probably from altitude sickness, and fell into the rim. A loud scream was heard at 3:00 PM from his girlfriend. By 11:00 PM the lifeless body was found. (I was so glad to have a guide.)

About an hour and a half into the hike, Peggy decided to drop out, thinking it was too risky.

About three quarters into the hike, things did get pretty intense. Several times there were long stretches not suitable for those with fear of heights: put your foot off the narrow path and you fall to your death, as many have done. But I was so ecstatic that it wasn’t as hard as I’d imagined it to be that I couldn’t help but look down, with a death defying dopamine rush! Francisco would admonish me, “Don’t look down! This is scary, even for me!” (And he’d been a guide for 28 years.)

22

Sun shimmering on the laguna

We broke for lunch, sitting on the grass, and joked that this could be our “last supper” since the really steep and narrow part was just to come. Francisco picked some blueberries for us to eat. They weren’t exactly blueberries, but looked similar, and are called morteños in Spanish.

Once we saw a shepherd egging a bunch of his sheep and goats to walk along the rim. I wondered, “Are Capricorns better at mountain climbing since they’re the goat?” (By the way, I’m a Capricorn.)

Then came the peak of the rim—there were a few stretches of maybe ten feet or so when we had to do some nearly vertical “rock climbing.” I knew my body was capable of this since I had been doing these small stretches while climbing to the second waterfall in Giron, Ecuador.

Amazing color of the lake

When we got near the extreme peak, the place of ultimate highness, Francisco advised, “No. Take the alternate path unless you are very strong.”

I replied, “This is what I came to do!” I climbed up to the summit and Nate videotaped me in all my glory, shouting, “I’m the queen of the world! ¡Soy la reina del mundo!” (I was plagiarizing Leonardo DiCaprio in the move Titanic.)

Toward the end of the rim we came upon a beautiful teak wood lookout place (mirador) where a group of local men were sitting and chatting. Nearby was a new hotel spot, Cabañas Shalalá (http://shalala.uphero.com/), a soon-‐to-‐be-‐open eco-‐center for tourists to stay at, right by the lake but in the upper area near the rim. The sustainability and upscale aspect is designed to attract foreign tourists; the lodges are modern with electricity, hot water, and new beds with comfortable mattresses.

23

Me at the mirador

The hike took us six hours total though it was only seven miles (11 kilometers). Francisco said the norm was four or five hours, but Nate stopped a lot for photos, and we aren’t so young any more. (I’m 57; he’s 62.) Francisco said the fastest group he ever took did it in three hours—young men in their 20s who had a race.

Upon finishing the hike I was so euphoric to still be alive—and feel more alive than ever—that I tipped Francisco an additional 33% (meaning ten bucks on top of the $30), for which he was grateful. I also promised I’d include his cell phone in this book so he could garnish more business: 099-‐427-‐2361. He’s a guide not only for the crater rim hike, but also hikes to local hot springs, Inca caves, the Rio Tuache Canyon, the nearby village of Chugchilán, and a waterfall.

He also asked me if I could help collect some used clothing and household items for the poor people in the area. I promised him I’d come with some boxes the next time I’d be in the area, and he said he’d meet me at Latacunga so I wouldn’t have to lug the goods around. He told me many people said they’d help, and he would get the hopes up of the locals, but nothing would happen. “Maybe it’ll be easier for you, since you live in Ecuador.” I agreed.

While we had a beer, Francisco told us the sad story of how his two horses (used to carry tourists up and down the lake for earning extra money) recently died. A dog scared them and they fell down the crater rim to their death. He said all his “wawas” cried. (In Quechua, the local indigenous language, the word for baby is wawa, since that is the noise they make when they cry. This word has seeped into the Ecuadorian Spanish vocabulary.)

Francisco called one of his eight children to come and bring some of his handmade crafts (artesanos). We happily purchased $56 worth, including a couple of wool purses, a belt, and a scarf.

For the rest of the day and night, I was on a dopamine high. I could now understand why people climbed high mountains, risking loss of their digits or possible death in an avalanche. I could see why thrill seekers always had to raise the bar for their next event. I was even contemplating hiking the Cotapaxi volcano, which was at 16,000 feet (4,877 meters)! I’d heard that out of nine busloads of tourists, only two people would usually make it to the top. By now I felt so invincible, why wouldn’t one of those two people be me?

24

Quilotoa lake

When we caught up with Peggy, she was glad we were still alive. She’d decided to hike the rim, but in the safer parts.

This is something every reader needs to know: you can enjoy the lake, and even the rim hike, without doing the dangerous parts. There are plenty of wide areas you can walk around the rim without any significant risk of falling off. In fact, if you are afraid of heights, you might want to avoid any of the areas that trigger your fears.

In my case, I faced some fears with this hike. It was liberating.

The rest of the evening we celebrated, talking with Fausto, enjoying Marlo’s great food along with a couple of Pilseners, and reminiscing about the hike. Fausto informed us of his friend’s new Cafeteria de Quilotoa that was opening up and would serve great homemade traditional meals. For reservations, contact Isabel Pastuña at 095-‐900-‐5519.

September 23, 2013: walking from Quilotoa to Chugchilán

Peggy had to get back to Cuenca, but Nate and I would stay another week.

Chugchilán is a village of only 80 people with an elevation of 1,988 feet or 3,200 kilometers. We realized it’d be torture to walk the extreme uphill and downhill with our backpacks, so we paid $40 for a driver to take us the seven miles (11 kilometers) where we left our backpacks at Black Sheep Inn and then rode back to Quilotoa. You read that right: $40. The prices for private drivers are very steep in this land in which buses come only once a day and taxis are nonexistent. But we saved our backs.

One of the keys to containing costs is to ask what other adventurers are up to, and sharing some of the costs of hiring drivers and guides.

Needless to say, the poor locals can’t afford these drivers. Usually they walk, take a horse, or wait for the bus.

25

The walk took five hours. Five hours to walk seven miles? you ask. And without the weight of a backpack? Yes, it was a very extreme downhill (660 feet or 182 meters) and then back up (1,200 feet or 366 meters). The downhill was so dusty that I had to go very slowly due to the slipperiness and my disgust for falling. I felt as though I could’ve skied down the hill—that’s how slick it was. It helped to take a wide stance, avoiding the inner dusty part of the trail that was most traveled. If this doesn’t appeal to you, you can take a horse for $15 (four hours), the bus, or a private driver.

The hot sun was exhausting me while it energized Nate. People complain about the cloudiness in Ecuador; I pray for clouds! When you’re on the equator, the sun is very intense.

But the scenery was worth it. We had a map courtesy of the Black Sheep Inn, which provided detailed maps for the main local hikes. Along the way we passed some indigenous people planting crops of lentils, and a couple of tourists from Europe.

After five hours of walking seven miles we were delighted to return to the Black Sheep Inn, a famous eco-‐lodge. Their website is http://www.blacksheepinn.com/ . Here are some of the impressive awards this inn has on its resumé:

World’s Best Hotels -‐ South America STAY LIST -‐ National Geographic Traveler 2011 Top 10 Eco-‐Resort -‐ Delta SKY Magazine 2009 Top 50 Eco-‐Lodges -‐ National Geographic Adventure Magazine 2009 Winner, ECOCLUB.com Ecotourism Awards 2006 & 2008 Skål International Ecotourism Award 2006 Smithsonian Magazine/Tourism Cares for Tomorrow Sustainable Tourism Award 2005

Black Sheep Inn

26

The activities available include the following: day hikes, horseback riding, sauna and hot tub, mountain biking, indigenous markets, and local workshop tours.

They also have Frisbee golf on the property—which includes nine holes (actually baskets) with some pretty steep climbing. Black Sheep Inn claims this is the highest Frisbee golf course in the world. Also on the property is a volleyball court and horseshoes, darts, a small gym, and a small zipline. Massages are offered as is laundry service. There is wifi and a book exchange area which includes board games. And of course, there are a couple of real live black sheep. I loved the fact that they had a yoga studio where I could do my 30-‐minute routine on a mat instead of the hard floor of a hotel or the often uneven terrain of the grass. (But I also loved doing yoga in front of my hotel room, which had one of the grandest views I’d ever seen of Ecuador.)

Frisbee golf at Black Sheep Inn

The eco-‐lodge donates a percentage of profits to the local community and also provides eco-‐education.

An American couple began the lodge in the mid-‐1990s. They loved the area so much that they bought some land which evolved into this eco-‐lodge, but after some time they grew weary of all the work and tried to sell it. When that didn’t work out, they simply took a year off (which is why it wasn’t listed in the Lonely Planet one year).

27

Then they hired Edmundo Vega to run the lodge. Edmundo has been working there for 16 months and is very qualified since he had a lot of experience working in the Marriott Hotel in Quito (which also has ecological aspects, according to him). He spends two weeks out of every month in Quito with his wife, and two young children, while spending the other two weeks at the inn. He’s been a hiker all his life and continues to walk at least three times a week. “I adore walking,” he says.

Edmundo and family

The inn serves 50% of its food organic, and 100% is vegetarian food, as this is known to be the most sustainable. (I would argue that this wouldn’t apply in this under-‐populated region filled with cattle, sheep, etc. and if you are familiar with my book Beyond Broccoli, you know my arguments against vegetarianism for the masses!)

Edmundo swears by the vegetarian diet. He weighed 210 pounds while eating meat twice a day, with frequent headaches and foot problems. He was taking three ibuprofen pills per day! Now he radiates health at 175 pounds, having lost 35 lbs.

The Black Sheep Inn (BSI) is famous for its compost toilets. There’s often a shortage of water in the mountains, so why should it be wasted on flushing water down the toilet? I noted that there was no foul smell with the compost toilets as one might expect, based on experience with outhouses. This is because after one uses the toilet, he “flushes” with a small shovel full of dry stuff consisting of sawdust leaves and pods from cultivated lupine (chochos). The feces and urine contain high amounts of nitrogen

28

while the “flush” is high in carbon. The ideal ratio is 30 parts carbon to one part nitrogen, which means ideally one uses a lot of this flush. Then the entire toilet contents can be recycled as fertilizer.

In fact, every room in the BSI has the book The Toilet Papers by Sim Van der Ryn conveniently located right beside the toilet as bathroom reading material. The book has a full explanation of the eco-‐logic behind compost toilets.

Every room has a wood stove, top quality Ecuadorian orthopaedic matresses, thick wool blankets, and flannel sheets. The Andes can get pretty cold at night, but all of these nuances make it feel warm and cozy. On top of the beds are little stuffed black sheep.

Rooms at Black Sheep Inn

Rooms run $60 per person or $80 per person with a private bath. There is a dormitory at $35 per person for the budget-‐conscious who wish to cut expenses by staying in a shared room which includes many bunk beds. But if you go in the off-‐season months, you might be the only one in the room, at least for a night or two.

The prices include breakfast, a sack lunch to take while hiking, and dinner. What’s fun is that at breakfast and dinner you can visit with the other guests, often people from all over the world.

It was our first dinner and the soup was especially delicious. Edmundo shared an interesting story: 60 years ago there weren’t any local inhabitants in the Quilotoa town, but there was one gringo called “Richard” who lived there. He was a 100% raw foodist! But in the 1940s he suddenly disappeared.

29

September 24, 2013: Hiking in the area

After a hearty breakfast of homemade granola, fresh juice, and eggs to order, we set out on a path that Edmundo discovered as an eight-‐year-‐old: the Skywalk hike. It ended up being about three miles (4.8 kilometers), but took us two hours to complete due to all the hills. Later we enjoyed a hot tub and sauna, going back and forth between the two. We topped off the evening with another delicious vegetarian dinner. We met an Indian man (Amitros) living in Canada who just began staying at the lodge and dined with him. Since he was the only one there, apart from us, he had the entire dorm to himself. We agreed to go hiking with him the next day.

Me doing the skywalk hike

September 25, 2013: Hiking in the area

Nate, Amitros, and I hired a local guide named Miguel for $20 to walk us to the following places: the cloud forest, the cheese factory, and the waterfalls. The entire hike took nearly nine hours, though it was only 12.5 miles (20 kilometers). We were so happy to be finished with the hike that we tipped him another ten dollars.

During the hike we’d pass all sorts of animals: pigs with their piglets, sheep and ewes, cows with their calves, donkeys, and horses. Often the animals would be tied up. We’d also pass many shacks of adobes and even some with thatched roofs. Often people are too poor to buy a sign for their business, so simply

30

paint on the outside of their house things like se vende (for sale) or Vendemos helados, coca-‐cola, papas fritas (We sell ice cream, Coca-‐Cola, French fries).

Dogs are (as in everywhere in Ecuador) free to roam around just like they did in the US before the strict leash laws.

Amitros by me, and Miguel, all hiking into the cloud forest

After we unwound a bit with yoga and a beer, it was on to another great dinner with what I’d consider to be award-‐winning soup. This time a British couple also joined us.

September 26, 2013: Hiking from Chugchilán to Isinliví

We’d heard that Isinliví, a very small village in the vicinity, had some spectacular views. It’s got a population of about 300 and an elevation of 9,514 feet or 2,900 meters. But we knew the up and down verticals with our backpacks would be too much. So we kept most of our stuff at the BSI while we took the basics with us. We hired Miguel to be our guide, but instead his young son William (age 18) showed up to take us.

This ended up being the most grueling hike I’d ever experienced. It made the Quilotoa Loop seem like a cakewalk. The hike consisted of endless ups and downs, with the downs most scary for me—again, dusty slippery trails. It was like walking up and down a roller coaster! Yet our teen guide, who had the cheapest shoes with barely any track, was able to glide up and down the hills as if he were jet skiing. He never, ever got out of breath. I guess being raised in the high altitude, and not having money for drivers and horses kept this young lad in superb shape.

31

Part of the hike included crossing a very rickety old bridge. We insisted that the paper guide warned us not to take this bridge as there would be another one that was safer. William wasn’t aware of the alternate bridge.

Me on the rickety old bridge

At one point the ground was extremely slippery mud, and to my horror—I fell. My pants, poles, and hands were all covered in mud. Once I realized I wasn’t hurt, though, I laughed, and the others joined in.

Nearing the end we could see the village and let our young guide go. When I handed him the $20 plus a $5 tip, seeing the glow in his eyes and smile on his face made the hike all worthwhile. It was like handing an American 18-‐year-‐old two Ben Franklins.

The uphill climb at the end was tough because by now we were exhausted. I felt like a little old lady inching along with her canes (in my case, ski poles). The hike was only 6.5 miles (10.4 kilometers), but it took us 4.5 hours.

But finally we arrived at our destination: The Llullu Llama Hostel. Eva, the owner, was in Quito. But we got our assigned bedrooms and headed out to the town where I checked my email at a local cabina. The connection was so slow that all I did was check the subject headings. No emergencies, so I logged off. Nate would check his iPad to see if he was a grandfather yet.

32

Me at the Llullu Llama Hostel

After I got back to the main drag I saw what looked like a bum sitting on the curb drinking a large Pilsener. But no—it wasn’t a homeless hobo—it was Nate! I joined him and we purchased snacks from the owner of the only other hostel in town at her little grocery called “Viveres Tito.” When Nate bought a couple of packs of greasy potato chips, the woman was appalled that he wouldn’t share them with me (when actually I didn’t want any) so she’d tease him about that.

Finally we went back to the hostel for some pre-‐dinner drinks. The guests were a truly global bunch: a young Chinese couple that was born and bred in Holland; a young Chinese woman born and bred in Australia (all three of whom were fluent in Manadarin). Then there were a couple of young women from Britain, and Nate and I who were Americans who’d immigrated to Ecuador. We all had a great chat while enjoying the delicious food prepared by Gladys, the chef who also managed the hostel in Eva’s absence.

33

International guests dining at the Llullu Llama Hostel (me at far left and Gladys standing in the background)

When we told the other guests about our tumultuous hike, they responded, “But there is a much easier one! If you follow the river, it’s all flat except for the final uphill part.”

The hostel offers sheets with great descriptions for hikes, including three very short hikes (30-‐45 minutes each); one short hike in which you can try to beat the record (1 hour 30 minutes); three half-‐day hikes (three to four hours each); three full-‐day hikes (four to six hours each); and three one-‐way hikes (four to six hours each). We grabbed the sheet (a one-‐way hike lasting four to six hours) that would take us back to Chugchilán, where we planned to return the next day.

This place also had compost toilets—in fact, ones with a great view!

I interviewed Eva by email since she was in Quito.

The owners are Eva Merkx from Holland and her Ecuadorian husband, Cristian Chala. (They have two daughters, Yulia and Hanna.) They run the Hostel Llullu Llama with Gladys, an Ecuadorian married to David. (They have five children.) Eva had lived in Ecuador ten years and she and her husband Cristian always dreamt of having a hostel.

They looked at various places in Ecuador and last December 2012 visited Hostel Llullu Llama and just fell in love with the place. The hostel had already been running for several years, but was a bit run down

34

because the former owner did not really want to continue putting time, money and effort in making the place work. So they bought it in January 2013 and continue to renovate the place.

“We are now constructing four garden cottages with private bathrooms and chimneys,” says Eva. “And we are also building a spa area with a Turkish sauna, dry sauna, and Jacuzzi with an incredible mountain view! We hope this part will be up and running as of March 2014. “Our vision is to create a beautiful relaxing place where hikers and nature lovers can come to meet other travelers, relax and enjoy the mountains and have a cozy and warm place to sleep on their mountain adventure. “At the same time we want to set up a community fund with client gifts and part of our profits. We will use the community fund for small-‐scale development projects in the village of Isinliví and surrounding communities. At the moment, we are still in the set-‐up phase of this funding scheme but this should all be up and running in the beginning of next year. By the end of next year we are planning to create horseback riding tours and mountain bike tours as well in the area.” Most of the guests come from the USA, Switzerland, Holland, and Germany. September 27, 2013: Hiking from Isinliví back to Chugchilán

The hike from yesterday wore me out. I slept ten hours, from 8:30 until 6:30, the most I’d been able to sleep the past 11 nights. Up until now, I’d either lie in bed and not sleep till 3:00 AM, or I’d sleep at first, and wake up around 2:00 AM, unable to go back to sleep. Every night I felt lucky if I got three or four hours of sleep, while resting in bed awake another three to four hours.

After a hearty breakfast, we went up to the top of the pre-‐Inca hill near the hostel. There we saw one of the most captivating views of Ecuador: vast hills in all directions, with all sorts of shades of green patches (some from farming). What amazed me was the huge hill directly in front of this lookout (mirador). It had about five layers of levels, each with paths, some with roads, and dotted with grazing cows and sheep, as well as small adobe houses. The level right below had a small house with a farm and cows. It was like some enchanting storybook picture—surreal, breathtakingly beautiful, and magical!

35

Enjoying the view from the pre-‐Inca hill

We resolved to head back to Chugchilán as there was going to be a festival of the local saint, San Miguel. This time, however, we would walk by the river, avoiding the roller coaster walk except for the unavoidable steep uphill at the end.

First we had to load up on water and snacks at “Viveres Tito,” where the delightful owner insisted I not share anything with Nate since he wouldn’t share his greasy potato chips with me!

As we walked along the river, we stopped about halfway for a lunch break. There was a makeshift bridge that we crossed—it wasn’t too high up, but scary enough that I crawled across it. However as we rested on the grass we laughed as we saw natives scurry over it. In one incident, a mother had a baby wrapped on her back while holding hands with her three-‐year-‐old as they quickly walked across the questionable bridge. In another, a man had to coax his reluctant dog to cross by pushing his butt!

Though rich in beautiful sights, these people were cash poor, no doubt. One even asked me for a dollar so he could buy pan (bread). Yet, despite their poverty, they lived among scenic views which – were they in a large city in California, for example—their property would be worth millions of dollars.

36

Tiochi river valley on the way back to Chugchilán

We proceeded to walk and came upon a second bridge—this one was the best of the three, no doubt, but nonetheless required keeping your hand steadily on a wire while crossing. Finally we encountered the rickety dangerous one we’d crossed the day before.

Often we’d pass red arrows that indicated we were on the correct path. We’d heard a rumor that sometimes the guides would take down the signs (as they don’t want the hikes to be marked, so they’ll be needed). But some of these red arrows were painted on rocks or trees, reminding me of the yellow arrows used to indicate El Camino de Santiago in Spain, which I’d trekked earlier this year.

We were surprised and happy to see a little store along the way, made of rustic wood. When the dogs barked, the owner came out and sold us some water and snacks. We came to the last part of the hike which entailed about a half hour or so of what Nate called “ball busting” uphill climbing—followed by 45 minutes or so of walking to the town. As much as the uphill wore me out, I preferred it to the steep downhill of the dusty slippery slopes.

When we got to the top, two small boys were telling us they had a mirador or lookout with a view by their house. No doubt they wanted some coins in exchange. Nate, however, was preoccupied as he realized he’d left a battery recharger at the hostel. I gave each of the boys a bag of potato chips and a popcorn ball left over from our snacks. Their faces lit up with huge smiles. They ran to show their parents and also savored the pretty bright packaged chips by playing with the unopened bags, delighting in their treasures as long as they could before opening them.

37

Our return hike was 8.21 miles (13 kilometers) lasting about seven hours, from 9:20 from 4:00 (with a 45-‐minute break by the river). It was a bit longer than William’s roller coaster hike, but much, much easier since most of it was flat.

When we went to get our backpack at the Black Sheep Inn, Edmundo informed us that there had been a contest that day among the village boys to see who could walk the fastest from Quilotoa to Chugchilán. Recall that on September 23 that same walk had taken Nate and me five hours to walk seven miles.

Somehow William, our 18-‐year-‐old guide, had accomplished the walk in one hour, even with a backpack of 25 pounds! I am sure he must have known some short cuts to make it less than seven miles. And of course, he ran it instead of walking. But still! He won the prize of $70. The guy who came in second did it in an hour and ten minutes.

We stayed at the Cloud Forest Inn, paying $15 each for private rooms with their own bathrooms (a real luxury). The fee included breakfast and dinner. Another option, Mama Hilda’s, was full because of the festival.

September 28, 2013: Enjoying the festival at Chugchilán

We deserved a break from intense hiking, but nonetheless trekked a rim in a horseshoe shape that entailed very steep uphill and downhill. At least it was only an hour hike, making it a relative “day off.”

The local festival began at 11:00 AM. There was folkloric music and dancing in the town square. People in costumes (clowns, and men dressed as women) came hopping and skipping in.

Local girl in traditional costume

Later in the early evening there was a bullfight with a baby bull. Of course no one got hurt, and it was all for show. But later when they set an adolescent bull in the ring, everyone cleared out! A poor dog got bumped by the bull and quickly ran out of the ring.

There was a pole that contained many prizes (food and bottles of alcohol) at the top. The pole was made a bit slippery and the winner, whoever could get to the top, would take home all the loot.

“Stadium seats” took on a new meaning as many of the spectators sat in makeshift “seats” up on the hills. I am reminded of how Ecuador is cited in many books about longevity—of which I have an entire

38

shelf. People who continue to climb hills every day never lose that ability, not even in very old age. Every hill—and there seemed to be nothing but hills in the Andes—is covered with paths; it would take you months to cover every path you could see.

All sorts of indigenous foods were sold at booths: French fries topped with a fried egg, donut holes rolled in sugar, grilled beef with small potatoes on a stick, heirloom corn (choclos) on a cob, toasted corn kernels (tostados) mixed with fried plantain (chifles).

Young women and even little girls all wore their indigenous outfits—though I think they did every day, not just for the festival. There appeared to be no people of Spanish descent among the Andean villages. There was very little modern influence on the way women dressed. However, even though they always dressed in indigenous attire, today they appeared to be in their “Sunday best.”

After dinner, I went to sleep, even though it was only 5:30.

September 29, 2013: from Chugchilán back to Latacunga—heading home to Cuenca

I slept soundly for 11 hours, awakened at 6:30 by a band that came right up to the hostel. I saw the hostel owner among the band—obviously swaggering from the overload of alcohol. I then realized the festival wasn’t over—all these men in the band had been partying all night!

After a hard night of partying

We ate the hostel’s usual breakfast of oatmeal, yogurt, a hard-‐boiled egg and Nescafé. A Dutch man we met said he was heading toward Baños—a city in Ecuador famous for its hot springs—because he had slept a mere five hours in the past three nights due to the altitude. That’s when I realized why I had not been sleeping well. In fact, I’d had sleep issues ever since moving to Cuenca, but never as bad as here, about five thousand feet higher than Cuenca. We always had a joke of blaming everything on the altitude, but in this case I think it was the truth.

Next Nate and I went to the town square to inquire about buses to Latacunga. You could see men of all ages passed out on the benches and ground. Much of the town had already been cleaned up, though still littered with drunken men! One man who was crashed right by a truck had to be dragged to a safe place when the driver needed to move on.

39

We caught a 9:30 bus. Above the driver was a most sexist sign: “Si su hija llora es por un chofer Señora,” which means, “If your daughter cries it’s because of a woman driver.”

Our bus passed through Quilotoa, and later Zumbahua. There we witnessed long lines of people. They were all collaborating to build a road by passing bricks!

The bus was playing indigenous music, some of which was remarkably good. I wished I could dance, but just tapped my feet to the beat while in the confinements of a bus seat.

We were five minutes from our destination of the Latacunga bus station when the bus stopped to let five Europeans pee. It reminded me of a joke I’d heard in third grade. A little girl is asked by the teacher various history questions while the boy behind her whispers the answers. When asked, “What continent was Christopher Columbus from?” the boy whispered, “European!” [“You’re a peein’!”], to which the little girl responded, “I am not. That’s just my yellow sucker melting!”

The ride cost $2.50 and took two hours and fifteen minutes. Generally, buses are about a dollar per hour ride in Ecuador and this was no exception.

We settled in at Hostel/Café Tiana, located at Luis F. Vivero 1-‐31 and Sanchez de Orellana. http://hostaltiana.com/

Today was the celebration of “Mama Negra” in Latacunga. The parade began in the morning, but we took a break from it to go shopping for our Halloween costumes. We’d both dress as indigenous people from the Andes.

The manager of the hostel informed us of the details of the “Mama Negra” legend. About 250 years ago there was a female servant of African descent. When the Cotapxi volcano was erupting, she prayed to the local saint, the Virgin Merced. Then the eruption suddenly stopped! The dark (“negra”) woman was given all the credit. Since she had a small daughter, her title became “Mama Negra”—and the image of her was always with a puppet in her hand, her small dark daughter. Here is what Wikipedia has to say:

“ ‘La Fiesta de la Mama Negra’ is a well-‐known traditional festival in Latacunga. It is a mixture of indigenous, Spanish and African influences. It takes place twice a year. The first one was organized in September by the people from the markets ‘La Merced y Del Salto’ in honor of the ‘Virgen de la Merced’. The Virgin is venerated because she stopped the Cotopaxi Volcano eruption in 1742. That is the reason why Latacunga's inhabitants call her ‘Abogada y patrona del volcan’ meaning ‘advocate and patron of the volcano’.

40

The Mama Negra Parade

“The second celebration is a party which all Latacunga’s inhabitants celebrate every year on Independence Day. It is a parade with the participation of well-‐known people, the army, clergy and others.

“Both of these fiestas include a lengthy parade of various cultural characters, all dressed-‐up in various colors. The 'mama negra' is the last person to pass through, which is the culmination of each parade. It is a person with their face painted in black, riding a horse, and spraying the crowd with milk. Homemade strong alcoholic drinks are freely passed between one another along the parade route, which can be quite chaotic, closing the road at times and making the route unpassable.”

Offering members of the audience a drink of homemade brew

So we enjoyed the parade for a few hours, from time to time drinking shots of strong homemade brew that had a very strong taste. Occasionally someone in the parades passed these out to the audience. We noticed that the parade seemed to be repeating itself, but found out from the hostel manager that it wasn’t. Rather, it included vast numbers of people from all the local villages. There would be folk dancers in bright traditional costumes, followed by bands of men – always dressed in black or gray with a shade of purple. They would be playing the same exact tune—each band, throughout all the parade. Then there would be men carrying a barrel with a dead pig and other ornaments (food and alcohol) on his back. He’d have to stop from time to time to rest.

41

Ashangero at the Mama Negra parade

We asked our hostel manager about the men with pigs. Why were they risking back injury for this? One man even carried, in addition to a full-‐sized dead pig, two boys on his back! Our guy told us that if you pray for something, as for example that your child recover from an illness, and it is granted—then your penance is to carry the pig on your back. A man who did this was called an ashangero.

September 30, 2013: from Latacunga to Alausí

Since I despise bus rides over an hour and a half, we broke up our return trip to Cuenca by stopping at Alausí, where we were at the start of our trip (September 17). It was a four-‐hour ride. On the way, an Ecuadorian woman insisted that we move our seats and go to the back. We’d been there a few hours and I knew I’d get queasy in the back (since it’s very bumpy). When I questioned the fairness of it all, she said (in perfect English), “Well, if you don’t like it, you can go back to the States!”

I was a bit taken aback since no one in Ecuador had ever been so rude to me. No doubt, she learned this impoliteness from living in my country. Not wanting any problems, we conceded and I surrendered to the stomach upset.

42

Back to Alausí

We’d hoped to catch the famous train ride, but it was all booked. Best to book ahead about four days!

October 1, 2013: from Alausí back home to Cuenca

After about three and a half hours on the bus, we were back. Oh, and this time we were sure to book our seats so that no one could bump us!

We got home just in time to go to gringo night at DiBacco’s, an American-‐owned Italian restaurant, where we showed up with our dirty hiking pants, indigenous hats, and alpaca sweaters. Peggy was very happy to see that we’d made it back!

Back to Cuenca

43

Reflections on the Journey

More confidence was my reward for doing the crater rim hike. I overcame fear, but I also observed my ego wanting to raise the bar with even more dangerous, thrilling adventures. Would there be no end to it? I was, after all, 57—hardly a time in my life to think of hiking Mount Everest. So I let go of that illusion. However, I will continue to hike for the joy of hiking, without allowing my thrill-‐seeking nature to relish only the riskiest of ventures. Life has enough simple pleasures and thrills.

Another thing to ponder: Were we witnessing the last generation of pure, ethnic, traditional Ecuadorians in the Andes? Only the young used the Internet. For that matter, only the adolescents even worked at the Internet cabinas. What will happen when the connection gets fast enough for them to be influenced by MTV clothing?

Getting unplugged for virtually two weeks wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought. Nature put me in the moment for the most part. I forgot about the cyber world and personal emails and opportunities to market my books.

But for Nate it must surely have been harder. He knew he could be a grandfather for the first time, as his daughter’s baby would be born any day. I suspect that for a woman on the verge of grandmotherhood it would have been harder. Men tend to be less sentimental about these things. (Many women would in fact be visiting their daughters at such a time.) He took it in stride, but happened to be at Chugchilán the day his baby grandson Jack was born. Though wifi was off and on, he caught the message six hours after the fact: “Baby was born!”

Nate, Susan, and Peggy at the Quilotoa Lake

It’s our hope that you will be inspired to make this trip. Contact us about when we’ll be going next. Maybe you’d like to join us! We offer tours on-‐the-‐cheap which include photos.

44

Final glance at the Quilotoa Lake

Susan and Nate at Halloween, donning the indigenous clothes from their Quilotoa adventure

Contact info: Susan Schenck [email protected] Nate Resnick [email protected]

Other photos of Ecuador by Nate Resnick: www.nateinecuador.com

Other books by Susan Schenck:

All available on www.amazon.com

The Live Food Factor: The Comprehensive Guide to the Ultimate Diet for Body, Mind, Spirit & Planet

Beyond Broccoli, Creating a Biologically Balanced Diet When a Vegetarian Diet Doesn't Work

Expats in Cuenca, Ecuador: The Magic & the Madness

Healing a Midlife Crisis on El Camino de Santiago

45

Appendix: On NOT surviving the Quilotoa Hike (a letter I wrote for friends and family)

Note to readers: This is a humorous letter I wrote to friends and family; some people thought it was true and wrote to me in concern!

Dear friends & family,

As some of you may know, I was hiking the Quilotoa area high up (13,000 feet) in the Andes mountains for a couple of weeks in Ecuador. My first day in the area was pretty scary. The wind blew so hard that it actually knocked me horizontal!

Had I been standing a foot more to the right, I would have fallen to my death.

I’d grown up in Indiana with 50 mph winds and had never experienced this before. Would I survive the Quilotoa crate rim hike, or would the strong winds blow me over the edge to my demise?

The Quilotoa crater lake is one of the most awesome sights I’ve ever seen: right up there with Niagara Falls and the Grand Canyon. The lake is bright turquoise and surrounded by a very high rim of what was once an active volcano. After that fierce wind had knocked me on my ass, I decided to solicit the aid of a hired guide, an Andean man named Francisco. Surely he would know alternate paths in case of wind. The hike took six hours. Several times there were long stretches not suitable for those with fear of heights: put your foot off the narrow path and you fall to your death, as many have done. But I was so ecstatic that it wasn’t as hard as I’d imagined it to be that I couldn’t help but look down, with a death defying dopamine rush! Francisco would admonish me, “Don’t look down! This is scary, even for me!” (And he’s been a guide since ’85.)

As the hike came to a close, I was so happy to still be alive, and in fact feel more alive than ever, that I decided to tip my Andean guide 33% (meaning ten bucks on top of the $30). But those strong Andean winds blew the ten dollar bill from my hands.

Destiny is the darndest thing. As I ran after the flying money, I was struck to my death by a passing car. I’d survived the hike, and countless car-‐caused near-‐death experiences in Cuenca, only to be killed by a car in a town that can’t possibly have more than three cars total! (The village has a population of 150.)

When it’s your time, as they say, nothing can stop it. I’m reminded of the young teen in San Diego who survived cancer, only to be killed by a shark.

It’s really glorious over here on the Other Side—though we don’t always have the best Internet connection. Fortunately the Andes weaned me from my email addiction since I was virtually unplugged for two weeks. The best thing is that all the mysteries of life and death have been revealed, such as who really killed JKF, Jonbenet Ramsey, Nicole Simpson, etc.

46

I was sizzling with curiosity over the question, “Had I not decided to tip the guide, would I still be alive?” So I enrolled in a class at Heaven U. called “Discourses on the Interconnection between Destiny and Free Will.”

I’ve already tried my hand at contacting some of you. Just learning how to do this email has taken me over a week. My mom is supposed to teach me how to sprinkle angel dust. I’ve already made ghostly physical appearances to a few of you who live in Cuenca. (Bet you thought I was still alive; that’s how good I was!)

But I have to say it was all worthwhile—dying or should I say “dimension shifting” was worth it to have seen that great Quilotoa Lake! And to think, even most Ecuadorians have not seen it or even heard of it. My goal is to put that area on the gringo map. I had lived in Ecuador three years, but felt like I never really saw or experienced Ecuador till I was in that region.

So this is where I need your help. I was taking notes to write a book about it. This unfinished business is keeping me from evolving to a higher spiritual level. So….. this is my urgent request: could I enlist any of you to finish my book…

serving as my “ghost writer”?

Love from Above,

Susan

quilotoa loop, ecuador´s hidden secret

Travel

thick wool

greasy potato

llullu llama

princess toa

meaning ten

posada de

black sheep

quilotoa crater