Andean Highlands and a Volcanic Crater Lake

  Chugchillan, Ecuador
Friday, December 22, 2006

The Quilotoa Loop Story
Getting to the gorgeous little Andean village of Chugchillan was half the adventure.  As we take turns standing and sitting on a 3 hour bus ride, Ronil gets stuck in the front seat, right next to the driver.  Directly beside him is an indiginous lady wearing many layers straddling the gear shift, the driver attempting not to infringe while shifting gears, and a young boy working hard to wipe off the fog from the bus´s windshield.  Next, we hop into the back of a pickup truck, with a simple tarp overtop us functioning as a canopy to protect us from the rain.  With greasy smears of some kind of animal fat dispersed along the flatbed, the 4 of us try to maintain a seated position on whatever spaces we can find as we bump along the pitted road.  We share the ride with indiginous locals while the wind and views sweep us away.

 

An early rise at Mama Hilda´s Guest House in Chugchillan.  Gonzales, the driver, takes us on bumpy mountain roads to the village of Quilotoa at 4000m.  Prepared and hydrated for a 5 hour hike around the crater of a volcano, we arrive at the village at 9:30am, and it´s freezing!   Conveniently, the stalls at the trailhead are selling warm woolies, and we purchase toques, and mittens made from llama wool....imagine, needing this stuff at the equator!!! 
 
                            

  

 

Loaded with snacks and warm clothes, we start the hike at 9:45am, and our first glimpse of the crater lake below us is breathtaking.  Jagged peaks encircling a pristine turquoise lake.  By 11:30am, we realize this was not going to be easy, and we curse the Lonely Planet for not being specific enough about the level of difficulty, but we trudge onwards.  Steep climbs up and down the volcano´s edge are tough, but the various angles and views of the gorgeous lake below us are worth it.

 

Nazimah, feeling the effects of the high altitude, decides to turn back with Ron.  So, we split up the coconut cookies and the sandwiches we made from the night before, and the two of us keep going.  We climb up and up, battling lack of oxygen, summit after summit.  Slow and steady, we reach the top of the first peak.  What a view of the emerald volcanic lake glistening below us!  We decide to take a breather and have a nice picnic on a flat spot, soak in the crisp mountain air, and celebrate that we have come this far.

We feel happy.  We feel like this is where we belong, discussing topics only attained when the mind is clearer in the open air of nature.  We feel competent and able to rely on our willpower and previous hiking experiences to complete this hike.  We accomplish two more huge summits, and even though it seems impossible to drag our bodies up these high mountain peaks, we do it!  Taking frequent breaks to catch our breath (well, maybe just Reeshma´s breath!), we slam down a handful of Canadian Trail Mix (what a treat brought from our Canadian friends!) and persevere.

 
 

Soon, we run into 2 young sheep herders whistling pretty sounds into the valleys, guiding their flock to graze among the green meadows, and we smile.  They ask us for Regallo?, Regallo?, innocently, as all indigenous children seem to do so naturally when they are begging for Gifts.  They point us in the right direction of the crater lake hike.  Thanking them for their help, we hand over our package of Coconut Cookies. 

 

Not long after this, 2 other sweet looking indigenous boys join our trail.  They´re brothers, one is 11, the other is 8, and while asking us for Regallos, they play innocently with a spinning top and string.  We think to ourselves, how such simple things amuse children all over the world.  We wave goodbye to them, but they take this guesture as a signal of impending generosity, and run at lightning speed down the hill to bug us some more.   Soon, the clouds roll in and the rain threatens, and we still have 2 hours of hiking left to finish.  In a moment of vulnerability, we are tempted by their insisting guidance that the easiest and quickest way to finish, is to turn right, and hike down the mountain with them, follow the trail around, and we should be there in roughly 1 hour from now.  Our joints are aching, it's raining, and we are starting to concede to fatigue, so we simply follow them, thinking they should know, they live here after all.  In the back of our minds, we´re thinking this doesn´t make sense, especially because our destination is at a height, not at the bottom of this mountain...  

                                         

Down, down, down we descend a sandy hill at dizzying speeds.  The kids are happy for some company, and as we leave them at their village, they ask for ¨"Regallo?" one last time.   We´ve become quite fond of them, so we hand over our spare change, and say goodbye.  Onwards.  Exactly 3 minutes later, we encounter 2 ferocious dogs, foaming at the mouth, barking menacingly, and making their way rapidly up the hill to greet us with their teeth...Can you say Horror Movie???  Reeshma feels like she is going to faint, and hands the walking stick we picked up along the way to Ashif, and stands crouching in fear behind him.  Wagging the stick helplessly at the canines does not help, and out of the corner of our eye, we see a village boy running up the hill in pursuit of his dogs in order to save us.  He´s biting on his knuckle from shear exhaustion.  By this time, both dogs have surrounded us, and are waiting for a command from the owner to attack.  Soon, the boy´s family meets up with us, and kindly informs us that we are definitely not on the trail to the end of the lake.   In complete shock, we find out that we are on a trail to the village of Chugchillan, where we started this morning, and walking there would take another 3 hours!!! 

Devastated, discouraged, and exhausted, we agree to pay $3 to the boy, a 15 year old whose name is Segundo, to lead the way back to the top of the hill, where we were, just 10 minutes ago, prior to being foolishly misled by the 2 boys.  The ascent is torturous, trying, and steep.  The route involves us stepping through loose cultivated soil, all the while constantly hearing dogs barking in the distance while the lowland fog continuously bleakens the picture.  Reeshma begins to lose all motivation.  She´s close to tears, and has nothing left in her to keep climbing.  Every 10 steps, she must stop to catch her breath, and regain some strength of mind, but it doesn´t seem to be working.  Ashif, like a horse, uses his previous experiences to summon up the courage to keep on going.  He pipes in with words of encouragement, and tries to distract Reesh, but each step is more and more difficult.  Segundo is sympathetic, and feels bad for what the other kids did to us, and patiently waiting, suggests that he can get a horse for Reeshma.   The thought of sitting atop of a horse and climbing up the narrow mountain paths at such heights makes Reesh dizzy, and we humbly refuse the offer.  Somehow, after what seems like an eternity,  we eventually make it back to the height at which we started our descent.  What took us a mere 10 minutes to descend, took almost 2 hours to climb.  

                               

We summit, and see the familiar lake below us once again, a magnificent sight for sore eyes.  The fog had lifted, the sun was beaming down into the lake, and the bright green lake, a constant reminder that we were once again, on the correct path.  Tears of joy are shed, and seeing the finish line, just a half an hour more in the distance, we bid farewell to our friend, Segundo, the Saviour of the day.  He is paid a little bit more for his efforts, and for getting us out of this mess.  Smooth sailing all the way back. 

We arrive 2 hours later than expected at 5:00pm to a warm welcome of hugs and anxious questions as our friends come running to us.  Everyone has been worried about us, including Gonzales, the driver, who has gone twice to the lookout point to see if he can spot us.  Ron even started the hike in the opposite direction in an attempt to find us. Thoughts of search parties, where to sleep that night in case we weren´t found, and what to tell our parents fill their minds with worry.  We replay the UPS and DOWNS of our story, and a couple of villagers crowd around to listen with concern.  On the way back to Mama Hilda´s, the two of us look at each other, and all we can we realize together, that this adventure one day, will be sure to lead us through future trials and tribulations.  What a day!!!!        
  
 (View this entry´s Slide Show/ Photo Album Above)