Getting High in the Andes

 

Highest altitude we have ever climbed. To the refuge of Cotopaxi Volcano.  No sign of altitude sickness but we didn't stay long.

The next stage of our Ecuadorean adventure was a four day hike in the Avenue of Volcanos, the climax being the refuge on Cotopaxi Volcano.  Every day had it's challenges and beauty.   On researching hiking before leaving Mexico, we read that tourists were sometimes mugged on the trails by brigands.  We were on our own and had limited time to research so, contrary to our usual DIY travel, decided to find a hiking tour.  I found Explore-Share, an international company that hooks you up with local tour guides for the adventure of your choice.  After a bit of reconnoitring, we reconstructed a listed tour to our liking.  No camping, no summits.  Day hikes with overnights in haciendas.  We were uncertain if we would be in a group or on our own but knew that we would have a guide who would take care of us.

A 7:30 a.m. pick up for a drive down the Avenue of Volcanos with a great view of the very active Cotopaxi.  Snow-covered on our way there but overnight activity left the summit black with ash the next morning!  Not a little unsettling...since that's where we were headed.

So off we went with a boxed breakfast from our kind Quito hotelier with our own guide in a private car!  He drove and we were free to relax and ask a multitude of questions.  Our guide, Franklin, was from a town in the Amazon but being afraid of snakes, had decided to become a mountain guide, a highly regarded profession in Ecuador with numerous years of schooling.  He was one of few trained to train others and was currently a rescue guide on 24/7 call with the police to rescue those injured in the mountains.  Franklin most often took climbers up to summits at midnight when the snow was firm and, hence, more easily ascended.  He said that he was happy to lead us on hikes rather than summits.  He was training for runs, triathlons, etc. etc.  He never broke a sweat.  Nor a pant. 

Franklin taught us how to ascend in thin air by going "slowly, slowly" with baby steps - actually heel to toe.  He guided us along narrow cliff paths over a rapidly moving river, got us across that rapidly moving river safely without freezing our feet, found trails back to the car after traversing field after field of head high corn at full speed with thunder rumbling above, recommended local foods and specialties, told us about the national politics from his perspective, shared his angst about his partner and child who were being threatened by a cartel-organized extortionist, recounted the devastation of previous Cotopaxi eruptions and knowledgeably predicted a not so distant future eruption - which actually kept me awake at night, even after hiking all day! Although we could have found some trails on our own, we never would have learned about the daily life and travails of the Ecuadorean nor gone off trail without him.  Our experience was definitely enriched.  He was worth the extra penny.

As mentioned, Franklin was worried about his wife and daughter who lived in a town on the coast.  His brother-in-law, who ran a delivery service, was being charged a "tax" for keeping his business safe.  The brother-in-law, frustrated by this extortion, moved with his family to Spain, the only way to escape.  However, because of his unpaid "tax", the rest of the family felt threatened.  Franklin's daughter was on school vacation and scheduled to go to a camp very close to her home.  Franklin advised that she stay sheltered at home until his wife and daughter could get to Quito.  It brought home to us once again, how lucky we were to raise children in Canada.  Unfortunately, the many Ecuadorians we talked to reluctantly reported that the country was becoming less and less safe and more and more corrupt.  Tragically, writing this in August, 2023, (I'm very delayed), the government has called a state of emergency after an assassination of a candidate whose platform was anti-corruption.  Columbians have been arrested.  Many believe the crime  and violence is related to cartel activity.

Here's our tour in pics:

Day One:  

We requested that the sensational Quilotoa Crater Lake (12,467ft/3.800m) be included as an extra day in our tour.  Unusually, we started at the top and walked to the bottom on that squiggly trail in the photo.  We would have preferred walking as far as we could in limited time around the rim of the crater to a down and up but we followed directions - we didn't know Franklin yet and he had no idea of our capabilities.  So it was a down and up surrounded by stupendous scenery when we(I) could catch our(my) breath.   The colour of the water! 

Wild lupin was in abundance wherever we set foot.  Gorgeous blues - even when we're far from the sea, I'm drawn to blue.

The long and winding road.  Easy down, not so up!  I think Franklin used the ascent as a gauge to tell him how much we could manage.  Peter did his usual lope in the front - but did pant.  I lagged farther and farther behind him with rests and panting.  Franklin brought up the rear.  My guess was that he was making sure we were okay.  Got to the top and had a big lunch of local stew.

On our way to Quilotao and back to our night stay, we passed through towns populated by indigenous, where women wore the traditional long full skirts, colourful tops and black brimmed hats.  They chatted by the roadside.  And this llama was an attraction to lure the few tourists to a roadside vista.

The vista for a dollar or two was this strange but beautiful canyon.  

Day One Night we spent at a small inn for climbers in Machachi, a medium-sized town, built on the runway of anticipated lava flow from Cotopaxi.  According to Franklin, it was a doomed city in the not too distant future.  Was this said to add drama to our tour?  He seemed sincere.  We walked the main street to the central square.  It was refreshingly genuine, not much tourism going on here.  

Day Two:

We walked in a valley between two mountain peaks, Sincholagua and Pasochoa, along the Pita River.  My favourite kind of hiking - along a beautiful rushing river, scrambling up and down rocks, along ledges, copious wildflowers of unknown names, waterfalls, even a river crossing.  My favourite hiking day...if I had to choose one.

Note my "hiking boots" aka construction boots - the closest we could find in Puerto Vallarta.  No complaints, they did the trick.

Franklin and I scrambled to the top.  (Scrambling is an official hiking term, we learned.  Travel insurance even offers it as an insurable activity)  

And then there's going down at the edge.  I put my hiking pride aside and let Franklin be the gentleman guide.  After all, he was responsible for our safe return to Quito.

Franklin had told us some terrifying tales about the consequences of getting stuck in sudden storms on the largely treeless Andes slopes - lost in the clouds or struck by lightning.  He was suddenly in a hurry to get back to the car when thunder started rumbling.  We could walk another km or two to the road or cross the river immediately and hike back through the higher meadows and potato fields.  He chose the latter, so shoes and socks off.  He chose a wider part of the river where the water wasn't as deep but still rushing and icy cold.  The rocky bottom made for slow and uncertain, sometimes painful, progress.  Loved it!

And then there was an almost running pace up and through the fields, passing a small group of women with a single male leader, doing the backbreaking labour of harvesting potatoes by hand - no time to stop for photos.  Franklin magically found his way through shoulder high grasses to gates and openings.  After some time, we descended again to the river, crossed by bridge this time and to the car without a lightning strike and with only a few large drops of rain.  A fantastic hiking day!

We spent the night at the lovely Chilcabamba Mountain Lodge at 11,400ft/3.487m.  The altitude for each nights' stay was noted by the tour company as part of the acclimatization process.  Beautiful grounds to wander, great food, and very comfortable.  Our view of the nearby Cotopaxi Volcano, and our next day's destination, was spectacular.

Day Three:  The Big Climb

The parking lot below the Cotopaxi refuge was a field of ash strewn with rock bombs from the previous eruption.

The path up to the refuge was long and winding hairpins.  Franklin took us up the steeper, straighter shortcuts between.  Heel-to-toe length steps (really) and very slow got us up without panting.  Others on the longer but more gradual climb were huffing and puffing and stopping.  "Slowly, slowly", Franklin's mantra was the secret as the tortoise well knows.

The refuge was the resting point for those who used to climb to the rim of the crater before the government shut it down several months ago because of the increased risk of eruption.  Strangely, the refuge, well in the path of instant destruction, was still deemed ok.  Those climbing to the crater would rest until midnight in large dorm rooms packed with bunk beds.  Upon waking at midnight, if they had a headache or other symptoms of altitude sickness, they immediately descended with a guide, recovering quickly.  The others ascended in the early morning hours when the snow was firmer and, hence, easier to hike on top of.

The very rustic lounge/dining area was draped in national flags, signed by those who reached the site.  Our signatures are now included.  The two people who run the refuge carry all the supplies including water up, daily.  Yikes!

We made it without any signs of sickness.  Too bad we couldn't do another 36m but Franklin forbade it.  And the fine was also a deterrent.

Straight down with normal steps.  Easy.

With Franklin at Tambopaxi Lodge (12,139ft/3.700m), a much more rustic climbing centre than the previous nights stay.  We walked, with Franklin across the plateau to a river gorge.  The plateau was grassed but other plant life was negligible.  It was again strewn with enormous rock bombs/boulders from the last eruption.  Again, our shelter for the night was a sitting duck.  

Day Four

Up to 4,000m today, our final hiking day.  Seemed paltry compared to our previous highs.  Peter erected an inuksuk on the peak.  The car was parked by the lake way below.

No trails on this hike - just grass-whacking - to the much more civilized (and dull) walkway below.  Wild lupine were everywhere.

The lake was a favourite hang out of shaggy wild horses which are still very numerous in the valleys.

We had asked Franklin about guinea pigs, a local delicacy.  He promised he would find a place where we could try them.  I thought he had forgotten as he drove us to the airport hotel in Quito, where he would drop us off.  Instead, he took us to a suburb, whose main street was lined with small restaurants, all with spits roasting guinea pig outside.  These were large, farmed species, skewered from mouth to bottom.

This was my serving with the open-mouthed head, gaping up at me.  I switched with Franklin.  Crunchie on the outside with moist, gamey-tasting meat.  Had to try it but once was probably enough.

Lunch done, we were dropped at the airport hotel for a flight early the next morning to the Amazon - the last leg of our Ecuador tour.