When in Doubt, Travel: Latacunga and the Quilatoa Loop

September 30th - October 5th

Base camp for plotting our Quilatoa Loop strategy became Latacunga, the capita city of the Cotopaxi region. The city was just big enough where we could find things we needed, but small enough to feel its intimate charm. We spent the majority of our time in Hostal Tiana, an amazingly comfortable hostel atmosphere with free tea, coffee, movies, and internet all day long!

Cute kids in the plaza...a version of kindergarden ROTC?

The cemetery in Latacunga.

We did get out for the evening to enjoy the "Mama Negra Festival," a huge party to celebrate the induction of Latacunga's current mayor into a collection of cultural institutions called Mama Negra. First of all, the party was pretty darn big considering the size of the city - five bands, bleachers for the public, fireworks, marching bands, things lit on fire, free food sampling, confetti, balloons, and the "Ms. Latcunga"s from the current and past years! The speaker was even more enthusiastic than most futbol announcers! However, whether it's Ecuadorians in general or just the people of Latacunga, the citizens just SAT there in their seats, not dancing or clapping when the announcer listed all of the inductee's/mayor's accomplishments in the community and for THEM! We clapped it up, hooted and hollered only to become the center of attention for those that could hear us - they stared at us as if we'd just dropped the f-bomb while having tea with the Queen of England or something. The normal awkward silence followed each time, but we kept cheering because the accomplishments were very noteworthy and no one else seemed to appreciate them - plus, the mayor and his family are standing in front of EVERYONE, listening to all of his accomplishments being read out and having no one acknowledge them! Not cool! After some long speeches, odd traditions, and dodging the fire-propelled mini-blimp that would occasionally fall into a scared crowd (can we just say bad idea?), the upbeat salsa and cumbia music began. Once again, we found ourselves being the only ones dancing...Bea was especially hysterical as she tried to engage older men around us to join the fun. People were pointing and laughing, until we found what seemed to be the only other group of people dancing, a collection of 8 students from the local college. We tore it up and managed at one point to start a dancing circle and conga line! Even David, the young and shy worker from the hostel that we had dragged with us, started getting into it. This continued for three hours...and we definitely felt it the next morning!

Saturday was a "get our stuff together" day before we headed out Sunday morning for Laguna Quilatoa, a beautiful volcanic crater lake lying amongst various peaks throughout the area. The lake's trail that travels along the circular ridge line also connects other smaller, less-traveled pathways with the tiny highland villages. The view was magnificent - pretty hard to go wrong with a dark lake against a mountain backdrop. After using about half of the battery life of our cameras taking pictures at the top, we finally continued walking. In theory, the town of Chugchilan, our hostal destination, is a relatively straight, 14km shot north of the lake...that is, IF you take the correct side path. Of course, we did not. The three of us stood at a crossroads of paths before we chose one and began switchbacking down one of the mountain's steep spines, through a collection of trees, and to the end of a precipice (aka sheer drop off). Feeling slightly frustrated about having lost about 1 hour of hiking time, we about-faced and started climbing back up. As we did, I spotted a path that shot off towards another mountain - not wanting to hike back all the way back up to make another incorrect path choice, I started down it to explore while the girls waited for a verdict. A machete would have been a very improtant accessory for this particular path, as I spent a good amount of time awkwardly squeezing between various bushes, shrubs, and other fauna. The path did indeed lead down our mountain and appeared to connect to what we believed to be the "actual" path visible on the neighboring mountainside. There was, unfortunately, a ravine into which the path disappeared that revealed very little (at least from where I was standing) as to its depth or terrain. I shouted back that there was a 72% chance we could get through. We soon learned that with three stubborn ladies, one being a persistent ex-Marine, 72% will become 100%!

Look at all of the path choices!

This is the one we chose...

...and this is where it led us - nowhere!

So here we go, crawling down the side of the mountain through thick brush and battling mora bushes - blackberries exploded all over our clothes and backpacks as we moved awkwardly to a soundtrack of "ooh"s, "eeh"s, "oh gosh"s (from Hannah), and "#$%!"s (from Bea and I). Eventually, we passed through the ravine and reached the other mountain. The three of us cheered and celebrated...prematurely, as we discoved in the next 10 minutes. As it turned out, the path I had spotted on the mountain we were now on was across another more dramatic ravine I'd not seen. So, being our stubborn selves, we began ascending the 75-80 degree incline of the mountainside, grabbing onto anything and everything with roots that may hold us. There may or may not have been some praying going on as we climbed ladder-style (using all parts of our body) up about 600 feet for about 45 minutes. As we crested the top, we saw cows and knew we were safe!! Our logic = the cows are tied up, someone had to put these cows here, so that means people had to walk here, and if we just cliffhangered that mountainside, surely we can walk on "mildly" steep terrain to maybe a house where someone might be able to point us in the right direction. Thankfully, our logic was accurate and a local indigenous woman ensured us we were NOW on the right path!!! We continued on after a much-needed break for the body and mind after that ridiculous episode. The next 3-4 hours involved going up and down....and up, and down, and up, and down...through countryside, pueblitos, canyons, creeks, and herds of sheep, cows, and mules.

Descending...steeply!

The trees were where we took the incorrect route...this is what we descended.

This is Hannah...straight above me as we took a break from grabbing roots.

Thankful we are alive!

Rewarding view from the top!

When we could finally feel how close we were to Chugchilan, we ascended a short, steep dirt path and found an indigenous family looking very concerned and toward the direction of a girl lying unresponsive on the grass. Hannah and I immediately checked our ABCs (airway, breathing, and circulation) before going through the rest of the trauma alphabet. We got some basic information about Blanca from the family - apparently she has had five similar episodes in the past, one while in the hospital, and no doctor has been able to identify the cause - I can only imagine how frustrating that is from a parent's standpoint...a frustration the brother obviously felt as he responded to our questions in an exasperated, near-yell manner. Luckily, Bea was there to translate that we were just trying to help and obviously had knowledge of her medical history. Armed with about 500ml of water and hard candies, there really wasn't much we could do except monitor her until she became responsive, which she did within about 10 minutes - enough time for 4 or 5 other indigenous families to run over and join the crowd. We assumed it was a hypotensive-related issue after speaking with the family and ruling out other possible causes. Regardless, after giving her more water to drink, she began feeling better. Obviously, we discouraged them from taking her on the hike back from where we had just come! They were very thankful at the end, every single person shaking our hands before departing...even the non-family members! We finally reached our hostel well after dark and nearly collapsed from that happiness that overcame us! The lady that came outside and asked if we needed a place to stay got a hug that instant! There was a set dinner for all the guests that took place around a large, rectangular table that we shared with a German couple and an Australian woman. We inhaled that food so quickly, they probably thought we hadn't eaten for days! After a nice conversation with them and an attempt to give "what not to do" directions to the Australian who was making that same trek, reverse direction the next day, we fell onto our beds and crashed!

Amazing view from the hostal in Chugchilan.

The three of us awoke feeling as if we'd been hit by a truck and moving slower than the geriatrics of the town. Thankfully, the beginning of the second day's 14km, northwest hike was relatively flat and allowed our joints to warm up slowly. We acquired a fourth hiking partner for this leg of the journey from Chugchilan to Isinlivi - Percy, a mutt whom we named after recognizing his persistence to remain alongside us the whole way! Thankfully, we had PERFECT weather, blue skies, and clear views of the dramatic valley to start the day's hike on the best foot possible! We meandered through small collections of houses, farmland, and along a river until we got to a fun suspension bridge. Lots of picture-taking and relaxing occurred there! Joost, a Belgian college student who had stayed at our same hostel in Chugchilan, caught up with us and helped us discover Percy's amazing catching ability. We love Joost and his excitement, motivation, and unwavering positive attitude towards his travels! He met back up with us at many points throughout our journey, so anytime that occurred, his quirky awesomeness will be referred to by just his name! We crossed our log bridge and the ascent began! The path split so many times that is actually a miracle that we only went off-track once. Unfortunately, the path we took was about 25 minutes of super-steep, loose ground trail that led us to an open field of nothingness. Gorgeous, but definitely not where we needed to go. As Bea shouted across the an indigenous man tending to his fields, we got the usual vague arm wave in the general direction of where we needed to go. Joost. After that, I just remember a lot of upness...which continued for hours. Once we crossed the bridge again, there was a steep, 30-minute uphill hike that left us out of breath and pretending to have interest in the flora, fauna, and wildlife around just to have an excuse to stop. We saw quite a few schoolgirls walking down the same hill towards their homes at the bottom - THAT is serious dedication for education! I'm pretty sure my attendance record for the year would remain in the single digits if I had to climb that hill every day! We reached the top and found Percy waiting for us outside the hostel. Joost. We relaxed, cleaned up a bit, drank tons of tea, and scarfed down the amazing dinner they prepared for us - a veggie lasagna/shepard's pie goodness with homemade pie! Nom nom. Our most expensive night of lodging to date (by far), but totally worth it for that food! Met some idols - a mid-50s Aussie-Kiwi couple who were training to hike Cotopaxi, the snow-covered volcano whose summit lies at 5897 meters! I cannot imagine...the 3000-4500 meter range is PLENTY for me! Good on ya!

Percy - fourth partner in crime!

You can actually see the animal cracker going into his mouth!

Percy getting a little love.

Typical roadblocks we encountered on the trek.

Completely knackered after we hiked up the wrong route.

Percy waiting for us by the door of the hostel!

Composting toilet with a garden for your viewing pleasure.

...a garden of which Percy took full advantage!

After an amazing breakfast, we looked for Percy to say our goodbyes and found him snoozing in the flowerbed across from the natural composting toilet! Percy eventually ran to catch up with us as we walked towards the town's main square and our best bet to find a truck taxi to take us to Sigchos, the departure town for buses heading back to Latacunga. We finally climbed into a passing truck with an indigenous woman who was waiting with us. As we rode along the beautiful winding roads, we jammed to the American 80's music Mr. Driver was playing. We arrived Saquisilli around 10:30am but the bus to Latacunga didn't depart until 2:30pm. We tried our best to kill time - we/mainly Bea chatted with an comforted the indigenous woman when she spoke of her recent series of unfortunate events, we hung out in the main park, bought bread to eat with out spoonfuls of peanut butter, and found entertainment in the school kids that would pass by and call us gringas... entertaining only for the retorts Bea would say back! Once we realized it was still only 11:15, we started looking for other means of transport. And we found it in the form of a cattle transport truck! The back, where we would be riding, was actually quite clean. Since other private trucks were offering to take us for $20 each, we started very low when bargaining for a price. Bea started at $1 each, to which the man shook his head while repeating "no, no, no" softly. Expecting him to come back with a double-digit number, we agreed instantaneously and happily when he countered with "$1.50." So, like human cattle, we hauled ourselves into the back and enjoyed the views out the top, like smiling dogs out of a backseat window! It soon became quite cold before it started raining, so we piled on everything we brought with us. Within minutes, we looked like the kid from "A Christmas Story," finding it difficult to get to a standing position beneath the weight of our clothes! Hannah ran sprints from one end of the container to the other for two purposes: warmth and, mainly, entertainment. We picked up one more gentleman along the way, and before too long, we were back in Latacunga!