I left my lungs in Pichincha and bathed in Baños

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  Baños, Ecuador
Wednesday, July 26, 2006

I decided the best way to give Brett a full overview of Quito was to do it from an altitude of 4874 meters (that's about 15,990 feet, to put it into meaningful units). After first stopping by the supermarket to buy some fresh lunch-making essentials, we took a bus to the Telefériqo. The Telefériqo in Quito is basically a fancy ski lift that brings you up to Cruz Loma (about 4000 meters), a starting point to hike up to the 4874 meter peak of Pichincha. From this point, you can get an unmatched view of Quito. You can also lose a lung.

Brett and I set forth on the trail on that auspicious Sunday afternoon, leaving the Telefériqo dropoff at around 1pm (there was a very long line to get on the Telefériqo, even with our Express Passes that cost $3 more than normal passes and save you at least 1 hour of waiting). The trail started off on some rolling hills with impressive mountain vistas

01 Brett on Pichincha

. Although the ascents weren't incredibly steep, we noticed they really took our breath away in both senses of the phrase. We had to stop to catch our breath every 10 minutes or so! I guess this is what happens when you're on a mountain in the second-highest capital city in the world (right behind La Paz, Bolivia).

Not only did we underestimate the atmospheric annoyances associated with our altitude, we misjudged the time it would require for us to complete the hike to the peak. The trail went from what seemed to be a dirt road to paths softly worn into grassy hills to hills of unwalkable sand to rocky hints of direction. The sand really took a lot out of us. By the time we got to the rocky peaks it was already 4pm and we were afraid of being lost on those ambiguous trails through the clouds all night. When we had walked approximately the right amount of time to reach the peaks, we were met with what seemed very much so to be peaks. However, the "trail" seemed to curve around the peaks, perhaps to take a slower route up the other side. We didn't have time for this.

We climb up the dark, vertical rock to a pointy summit. The moment was forever captured in all its pixellated glory (to be posted). We then made our way back towards the Telefériqo, at one point being the Polo to some poor Ecuadorian's Marco when they were lost off the trail

01 El Teleférico

. It's easy to get lost on that trail, considering it is unmarked and generally inside of a dense cloud system this time of year. The Ecuadorian eventually followed my voice to the trail. Also, as it turns out, the peak that Brett and I reached was not the actual main peak of the mountain, but another peak very close to it. As far as we're concerned, it was the real summit and any other slim summits are just imitating. So please stand up.

The hike ended up being highly underestimated, which seems to be a trend with that peak. There's something about arriving via ski lift that makes you think you can hike the summit in flip flops and shorts (we saw this...the surprised traveler turned around when someone told us there was still an hour left to go to the top). We were dressed appropriately, though. Our lungs just weren't ready to be sliced up with oxygen-poor molecular daggers.

Brett did not sleep much, if at all that night. He laid awake in bed at Nelly's house tossing and turning with a sharp pain in his chest. He knew it was associated with some type of altitude sickness. He had only been in Quito 15 hours before ascending Pichincha. He actually got up and called MIT Medical for advice, such was his pain. Based on the bits and pieces I got from Brett, I imagine the conversation went along these lines:

Brett: "Hi, I'm Brett

02 Brett walking into the clouds

. I'm in Ecuador and just climbed a very high peak and am now having chest pains. I was wondering if-"
Doctor Sucksalot: "No. Your chest pain has nothing to do with altitude."
B: "But-"
DSAL: "Not altitude."
B: "I'm not usually one to trust Google over a doctor's opinion, but there is extensive information online linking my type of pain with altitude sickness."
DSAL: "Not altitude."
B: "Can I speak with someone at MGH who might know the answer to my question?"
DSAL: "Not altitude."
B: "You're worthless"
DSAL: Hangs up phone.

Luckily Brett's pain subsided over the coming days and he could once again breathe fully without feeling that his chest cavity was filled with strategically placed thumb tacks. We decided it was time for a break. On Monday we caught a 3 hour bus to Baños, Ecuador.

03 Brett attacked by monkeys

Baños is most well-known as a beautiful tourist destination (both domestic and international). It draws its charm from its valley location in close proximity with the Tungurahua Volcano. It looks like a piece of Jurassic Park to me, just missing a few raptors and fat, rich, and stupid park managers (I mean come on, give yourself some back-up security when you're dealing with the big Rex!) Anyway, we arrived in the late afternoon and decided to check out the thermal "baths" or piscinas térmicas for which Baños was also well-known.

Although one of the pools was directly beside a beautiful waterfall, the baths were generally unimpressive. Everything had a very concrete jungle feel to it. It was a stark contrast to the exotic atmosphere I found at the thermal baths in Costa Rica. We started in a very hot bath filled with murky water (it's not muck, it's life-lengthening minerals and ooze) and a mixture of local and foreign adults. Once we had enough of the heat, we moved to a slightly cooler, but still warm, pool. This one was filled with Ecuadorian families, plus a small group of 5 or 6 American girls occupying one corner. We chatted with them a little and found out they were doing some program to volunteer and learn spanish in Guayaquil. We discussed some travel options for our stay in Ecuador. Generally a worthless conversation I suppose, and even more worthless and as a travel log note

03 Erosion walls?

. Sorry.

Baños is supposed to be known for its bustling nightlife. This is exemplified by its many bars and clubs, as well as a number of fancy restaurants. The only thing this party town needed was people. There were no people. Just Brett and me wandering the streets. Apparently false rumors regarding the dangers of the nearby and actively erupting Tungurahua Volcano had scared most tourists away. The volcano erupted about a week ago and covered the nearby villages with ash. Baños was left safe, though, and is generally safe unless Mother Earth really gets power trippy and decides to make a point about living close to volcanoes. Tungurahua heated my pool water, so I don't have any problems with it.

We stopped in a place called Good Bar as it was opening. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall place with a hip atmosphere. On the wall of liquor, right beside a bottle of Johnnie Walker, was a 30 pack of Budweiser. Classy. The bar counter only had space for 5 seats. Brett and I were the only ones there. We ordered our drinks while the bartender adjusted the playlist. We ordered two different beers off their extensive list of 4 options. The bartender's response was a first for me. "Si, las compraré." ("Yes, I'll buy them.") What? I thought we were just buying them

04 Horses on Pichincha

. The bartender came around the counter, walked past us out the door, and crossed the tiny street to the liquor store right across from the bar. He returned with our $2 beers. Out of curiosity, we later confirmed that the beer was actually only 80 cents across the street. I guess we were paying for the atmosphere. Budweiser decorations don't come cheap. After all, it's not a Spectacular Bar or even a very Great Bar. It's just a Good Bar.

We later went to another bar that was a little more lively. Brett and I were schooled in Foozball by a couple of Italians. We then enjoyed some conversations with Neil and his short and bubbly friend. Neil was originally from Scotland, and you could tell. His accent was thick, his sentences short, and his words shorter. He was a little taller than me (I'm 5'11) with a sunken face that seemed to carry years of partying in forgotten places on forgotten nights with forgotten people. He told me he had lived in Hong Kong for 7 years and was now living in the Carribean. I was drooling over his ability to travel. "Well in my business you have to." What was his business, you may ask? "Gambling." I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Apparently he deals with odds for soccer games. He made a good bet with Italy that he said paid for most of his trip. He was travelling through South America with his friend whose name I have forgotten

04 Me on Pichincha

. He was of very petite stature with short hair, an earring, and a voice that was just feminine enough to make you wonder. He was Canadian. He apparently worked with computers, and somehow fixed the playlist for the bartender and was then allowed behind the bar. He was serving our drinks for us and taking song requests (for his own choices, he played quite depressing songs...you have to wonder about that). Apparently he was also traveling with Neil in Colombia where they had gone to a bar and ended up getting on stage and playing some songs. After their makeshift performance, a local newspaper journalist asked to interview their "band". They agreed and had to come up with a band name. Henry and the Shenty's was to be featured for unsuspecting Colombians wondering who Henry is and what a Shenty is. We had a great time that night. We owned the place.

The next morning we woke up at Luisa Manzano de Izurieta's house in Baños. She is the very kind mother of Patty (our Ecuadorian friend in the US). She made us breakfast and then helped us decide what to do with our day. We opted for another hike, this time to a peak known as Antenas (due to the large antenas located there...very creative). From that peak, one can get an amazing view of the Tungurahua Volcano which is regularly shooting enormous plooms of ash into the air. The hike was long but very visually rewarding with awesome vistas of the town of Baños

04 Rick climbing to the top

. Along the way a tiny old man popped out of the woods and said in a very muffled voice many words that I could not decipher. He seemed very pleasant, though. He carried tools with him and was covered in dirt. His hands felt like thick, course gloves as they shook my hand. Just as soon as he entered, he was walking away down the road. Brett, who had been watching from a distance, offered some Purell hand sanitizer to me. This is something I'm not really used to doing, but I did it just this once, mostly due to remnants of the powder and pale babies stories cycling through my mind.

As we neared some great vistas, we met a Canadian man who was riding his bike up the same road to Antenas. We sat with him and shared stories of our travels. We mentioned our interest in climbing the Volcan Cotopaxi. He had hiked Cotopaxi and told us that it was something to be taken seriously. It required you to be very fit and well-acclimated. This scared us coming from someone who was in such clearly superior shape. The rest of the hike was very pleasant, and we were able to take some joking pictures with the smoke plumes (inspired by a picture Neil had showed me in which he was standing with a cigarette in his mouth with the volcano plume making the smoke).

For the way back, we decided to hurry because we wanted to visit the town that had been covered in ash

04 Vista de Banos

. It isn't often you get the chance to see such a raw power of nature so close. We signaled a truck that was driving by and we hopped in the back as it was still moving. This would cut our trip down from over 3 hours to under 30 minutes. Brett thought we were going to die. The driver adroitly handled most of the sharp turns going down the narrow mountain road. Most of them. On one turn, he did not have room to clear the turn. As he was slowing down, he bumped into the guard rail with over a 200 foot drop on the other side. He used the guard rail to stop the truck! I put my faith in his driving experience (he seemed to have lasted many years and didn't appear to be missing any important limbs). I also put my faith in my ability to jump out of that truck.

When we got back we found out it was too late to visit the ash-covered town anyway. The military only allows it to be open during certain "safe" hours in the middle of the day. I guess even Mother Nature takes a siesta down here. We visited a travel agency and decided to book a trip to reach the summit of the Volcan Cotopaxi. This was going to be exciting. We had an hour in which to pack up and eat before hopping on a bus to Latacunga, where our tour would leave from the next morning. We asked the owner at a small Italian restaurant recommended by Luisa if he could pack us up a couple of meals to go (we were starving and had not eaten lunch or dinner)

05 Neil and his friend at the bar

. He walked out of the restaurant and went to a store on the corner where he bought a 10 pack of styrofoam containers. After he gave us our meals, I had to go to that same store to pick up some plastic utensils. While there, the owner walked in to return the remaining 8 styrofoam containers. I wonder if the Good Bar-tender returned our bottles to make an extra 10 cents off of us.

Quantifiable Summary
Took the Telefériqo in Quito to the entry point to the trail to Pichincha. Regular ticket $4, we paid $7 for express ticket to save 1 hour.
Hiked to peak of Pichincha at 4874 meters; it took us about 3 hours to hike up and about 2 hours to hike back down.
Bus to Baños, Ecuador ($3, 3 hours)
Entry to Piscinas de la Virgen (I think it was like $2)
Bus to Latacunga ($2, 2 hours)
Still alive.

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06 Me with Baños	07 King and his Kingdom	07 Rick and Tungurahua	08 Brett upset
08 I want to breathe smoke	09 Don't make me angry	10 Rainbow of Baños	11 Hitching our way down

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