North of
Cuenca lies a massive range of volcanoes, almost all active and topping out
above 15,000 ft. Fortunately, there are plenty of small and big towns with give
access to these volcanoes. Unfortunately, due to the weather, I was able to
only receive a small glimpse of their beauty, and from below their peaks.
I did,
however, do a slightly less vertical trip from Latagunga, Ecuador to a few
small villages, a lake, Quilatoa, at 12,000 ft, and back around to Latacunga
via more small villages. It started out just Jing (an American guy I met in
Mancora) and I on the bus to a town called Zumbahua where the Saturday market
was one of the better ones around. And it was. In Zumbahua we met a Canadian
traveler, Sebastian, who was also doing the same trek we were. The three of us
then took a quick truck ride up to the Quilotoa. The lake was stunning and I
will leave it at that (due to practical difficulties, you will have to look up
pictures from google). We hiked down to the water and then back up
around the crater. The hike was taxing because at 12,000 ft, the air is fairly
thin and the rain quite cold. Luckily, the hostel provided a nice dinner, hot
tea, and a wood stove which kept spirits high and clothes dry.
The next
day we started out early as the sun was rising, quite refreshingly, over the
crater (likewise, find a photo on google of a sunrise at Quilotoa). Our next
destination we would take by foot 12 km around and down the crater into a river
valley and back out to a town called Chugchilan. At this point, we bought some
greasy meat and even greasier empanadas. Jing, having a tough schedule, took a
pickup truck back to Latacunga. Sebastian and I pressed on to our next
destination another 12 km away, a town called Insinlivi. Enter senderos
escondidos (hidden trails). While the first part of our trip from Quilotoa to
Chugchilan was marked, periodically, by little red stakes, the second part was
not so accommodating. Thankfully, we had the smarts to ask for directions and
were given a detailed written description and a hand drawn map by one of the
hostels. The written description was of the extremely vague type: join the big
trail at the small tree, keep going past the bromeliads, and turn when you see
the cliffs. Which big trail, small tree, and cliffs? And what the fuck is a
bromeliad? We resorted to asking every single farmer we happened upon, often
yelling across entire fields and using hand signals to get directions. After 12
km of constant doubt, we reach a little town we hoped was Insinlivi. We spent
the night is someone´s home. The hostess cooked us a delicious meal and we
slept very well that night.
Early the
next morning we woke up for breakfast and finished just in time to catch the
local lechero (milk truck) headed back to Latacunga. The second we hopped into
the back of this truck, it began to rain. We started at an elevation of about
3000 meters and just started climbing. As we zipped around switchback after
switchback, we kept climbing the extremely bumping dirt road. The rain became
colder and stronger as we went. By the top of whatever mountain, my hands were
frozen from trying to hold on. Every so often, we would stop to collect the
milk the local ranchers would leave along the road. One lady walked her cow
down to the road, filled up a bucket, waited for us to show up, and then walked
her horse back to the house. Once the big milk jugs were full the driver started
looking for a new container to fill up. They found a large jug laying in
someone´s yard, gave it a good rinse, and kept going, using a plastic bag as a
lid. By the time we reached the spot where we would hop on proper
transportation, two hours later, my jeans were soaked and my hands could barely
move. A note for aspiring travelers: always be prepared with a rain jacket and
down jacket; you never know when your milk truck will take you to freezing rain
at 13,000 feet.
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