September 17
We must have been riding on a little built up karma today… we saw the top of Chimborazo and a bunch of vicunas! We rode up and up to where there were no trees and no power lines, just wind, bunch grasses, and a few Ecuadorians with their llamas (and boy do I like llamas). I was laughing most of the way up, as the entire sky just got thicker and thicker with white clouds the more elevation we gained. The chances of seeing Chimborazo seemed slim to none. We didn’t even know where it was or if we had passed it. We turned a corner and I liked the way the (excessive) clouds looked over the valley and asked Ernie to pull over so I could take a picture. Turns out my camera was dead, and while I was fumbling around with it Ernie sees a snow covered something ahead, barely peeking out through the clouds. He says, “I think that is the mountain up there”. I ride up to him, take a few pathetic pics of the little we could see with the iPad, then we hop back on the bikes with a very small sense of satisfaction that we saw at least a little of it. But then, the sky just... broke. For a short while we got a spectacular view of Chimborazo. We could even see the rims of the glaciers on the top. It was a very nice moment.
Not even a few kilometers later Ernie spots a herd of five or six animals next to the road. Since I’d been making goofy noises over many of the cute llamas we had seen already that day, Ernie says “there are some cute llamas right there”. I spot them and then in a high pitched voice say, “Those aren’t llamas! Those are vicunas!!!” And over the next 5-10 km we probably saw about 50-75 more (and then after that, no more vicunas). We pulled over once to watch a herd feed that was right next to the road. They have very dainty feet and seem to defy gravity when they walk up and around rocks. To LD, I converted one of my side cases into a vicuna carrier and snagged a yearling. I’m pretty sure I can get her through all our border crossings, so start picking out baby names.
Then our descent… in three hours we got to experience all the habitat changes. First came the conifers, then some eucalyptus trees. The bunch grasses were replaced with small plants with small white or yellow flowers. Eventually there were trees and shrubs with big red and purple flowers and ferns and palms. And then by the time we reached the river basin it was full on jungle, with too many types of plants to keep track of. And then it was dry, and we were in the valley with a struggling ecosystem. Ernie was watching his temperature gauge today, and at Chimborazo it was 44 degree F and in Babahoyo it was in the mid 80’s. For those who are quantitative like myself, Chimborazo is just over 6000 meters (20,000 feet), and the road where we took the pictures from is 4000 meters (13,000 feet). It took us 100 km to ride down to Babahoyo, which is at 11 meters (36 feet) :0
We had our first bad coffee this morning, but we think that is user error. Ecuadorians, to our surprise, like and almost exclusively offer instant coffee. We read a few short articles about it, and the reasons are 1) coffee only grows at certain elevations, and Ecuador has many elevations, 2) Ecuadorians are not as affluent, and instant coffee is cheap, 3) instant coffee is easy, as almost all Ecuadorians have access to boil some water and store some coffee powder. The instant coffee we have had hasn’t been bad at all, and in some cases been quite good. Again, our bad coffee this morning was because we were the ones in charge of making it. We had no idea how much powder was appropriate for how much water. And I don’t think we will be learning this. Ignorance is bliss.
Also, side note: the crop of Ecuador is whatever they want it to be. With the rich soil, dramatic altitude, and proof of engineering greenhouses on seemingly any slope, they can and seemingly do grow everything. Granted, they cannot grow very much of any one thing, but the diversity of crops must be one of the largest in the world.
Babahoyo is a very nice little town. No gringos. During our two hour walkabout we did not blend in. We were hoping for some comida tipico but damn siesta hours, especially on a Sunday. So we had some Chinese instead, and it was pretty good. The adventure of our time in Babahoyo was definitely checking in. This hotel advertises a garage, and they do not have a garage. They have a ballroom that can store motorcycles. So to store our motos in the “garage”, we have to hop the 6” curb from the street to the sidewalk, hop the 10” step from the sidewalk to the lobby, ride through the lobby - tiled with polished white marble - around the fancy furniture, then park in the ballroom (more polished white marble). With a 50cc or even 250cc moto, hopping a 10” curb is no problem. But our bikes with all the gear weigh at least 650 lbs. There is no “hopping” a 10 inch marble step. The hotel owner does not want us to go to another hotel and is convinced we can make it work. In fact, both he and his 75 year old mother (La Senora) are convinced we can make it work. After I pay (of course) he collects some concrete blocks and boards, and Ernie and I are now convinced enough that with these new accessories, we can make it work (Ecuadorian peer pressure!). There were four of us pushing and pulling, but we got both bikes in there. And then, as we were futzing with exactly where to put them in the garage/ballroom, the guy says (in Spanish), “It's ok to park them anywhere in here. There are no more motos coming and no parties tonight”. Ha!
Side note about Babahoyo: both north and south of town are rich with tilapia farms, and unlike other areas, they are not covered with nets (presumably because they are too big of an area to cover with nets??). As such, the birding is spectacular. A variety of hawks, herons, egrets, and even a few kingfishers. We probably saw close to a thousand white herons today, and a least a few hundred hawks.
September 18
Today was not without trials. Ernesto and I had some downs, but it all ended up, and we continue to be committed to the ride.
We had a frustrating start to the day by just getting out of bed. The floor of our room was slick tile and had a tight ledge right by the foot of the bed/on the way to the bathroom. Overnight a thin layer of water covered over half the room. At first we thought it was a leak, but we couldn’t find any watermarks on the walls or anything dripping from above. Ernesto quickly found the source; the “plant” in the corner (which yes, we are ashamed we did not notice this set up when we checked in, but its a big room and we had no such thing on our minds). You know how all AC units need a place for the condensation to go? Well with no windows in this room, they set up a little system for the pipe to come out at the bottom of the wall, into a little bucket. Put a plastic green bush on top and voila, you have a fake plant that also serves as the water receptacle for the AC. Only trouble is, someone has to empty the bucket or the hotel room fills with water. Normally I don’t mind a wet floor, but I had put my moto clothes right on the floor in front of the bucket, so my pants in particular were soaked through. Knowing the discomfort of sitting in cold wet pants for hours on end (jacket NBD), I went to the front desk and asked about a dryer. He said there was no secadora, sorry. Another little bit of New Jersey came out and I explained (in poor Spanish) that the only reason my pants were that wet was because of their shitty AC system and the leak all over our floor. He made some calls, and an hour and a half later I had pants that were dry enough to leave Babahoyo. La Senora showed up about an hour in, and she was incredibly sweet about it. She runs a tight ship, and she yelled at at least four people about emptying the bucket and making sure that as soon as my pants were dry they were on their way back to the hotel. Her family showed up and they all wanted to see the motos (in the ballroom) and they wanted to know more about where we were from and where we were going. Gracias por todo Senora! Outside of the parking and AC situation, it was a very nice hotel. Actually, it was the second most expensive hotel we have had since Tapachula, Mexico - outside of Ernesto’s birthday (and that includes our evenings in the Galapagos). We only chose this place because it was the only place in town with a secure garage...
After a late start we had quite a day and quite a ride (see first paragraph of todays blog). I’ll only write about the two parts Ernesto and I want to remember. The first was the fog. I don’t even know if it was fog… it was too thick to be fog. It reminded me of the few (snow) whiteouts I’ve been in Montana and South Dakota. The road was windy, steep, and scattered with patches of gravel. Visibility was 5 meters at its worst, 10 meters at its best. At one point there were signs that said “Men Working 1 km”. Then “Men Working 500 m”, then 300m, 200m, 100m, and this was all taking us many minutes… We got to the spot where the men were (not) working, and it turned out that the entire right lane was gone. The road had given way and it was just a drop off. We couldn’t see it until we were right on it. Which, given our mental state, was probably a good thing, as it was probably a pretty scary sight. We both rode with our hazards on, and it took us about an hour to get through it. It was a long, long hour. Ernie just reminded me of something I forgot: one of the cars that rode by was taking our pictures. Wtf? It's hard to imagine they were doing that in a respectful way. Ernie says they will get posted on www.gringosareidiots.com.
But then POOF! Our best POOF yet! We got above the clouds. Blue sky, sunshine, and smooth pavement to climb up and up back to 4000 meters like yesterday. There was some harsh wind, but it was exhilarating to make the climb. It peaked and plateaued at Parque Nacional Cajas. Mountainous, Andean grasslands with a thick white cloud cover. The habitat is sprinkled with ponds and small lakes, and the water looked so clean, especially compared to much (all?) of the standing water we have seen since leaving Oregon. The local word for it is “paramo”, and this location and the highly adapted tree that grows here makes it one of the highest “true” forests on the planet. If the moon had bunchgrasses… that is where we were.
There was one section before beginning our brief descent to Cuenca where the road did hairpin turns around the small bodies of water and colorful cliffs… We have never seen anything like it. We have never seen pictures of anything like it. It was incredibly rewarding. With the unseasonable weather and fog with the lush grasses and tiny yellow flowers and giant, giant rocks… Ernesto said, “There are probably very few people that have had this experience.”
We are feeling the elevation, both here in Cuenca and the days before Babahoyo. Mostly we notice when we are climbing more than one or two flights of stairs. My original thought was how out of shape we are, but then I remembered that some people actually get high altitude sickness crossing elevations the way we have done over the past few days. So maybe we aren’t in as bad of shape as we think we are.
Everything we have read, we are in the dry season. We would not want to visit in the wet season.
Last adventure of the day was our hotel. We booked a place online and when we arrived the parking situation was not clear. We just stopped on the street like dumb gringos, but we had our hazards on like locals. After enough honks we moved along and figured we would u-turn and try it again. We forgot to turn our hazards off and were still driving slow (opps), so a local English speaker asked us what it was we looking for and offered to help. And hilarious - in his car he got in front of Ernie, stopped in the road, got out and walked back to Ernie and they proceeded to have a chat. Blocking all traffic, and no one honked! When E and I reflected on it later I said “that’s because we didn’t need a ride” ha ha. Anyway, we get back around and just park on the sidewalk in front of the hotel (the curb was not fun). The hotel receptionist explained that they have had problems with Booking.com and they have our reservation but all the rooms are booked. There was no hotel room available. I had wanted to use the “Reservation” Seinfeld reference for years, and I finally got to do it today. I stood in the lobby of that hotel and wave my arms about saying “Take Take Take”. Ernie didn’t know what I was doing, but when I explained later he laughed… Between her phone calls and my Googling we found a place just around the corner. It costs a little more, but it is much much nicer (and we will pay an extra $10 to not go into downtown orthogonal Cuenca). When we check in to the new hotel the receptionist tells us there is a little problem with the power, but it will be on 30-45 minutes. No problemo. We head out for dinner and to walk the aisles of the nicest grocery store we have seen in weeks (months?). And it is cheap (money wise) and classy (people wise). When we get back to the hotel the manager greets us and she is visibly upset… She informs us there will be no power through the evening and she is so very terribly sorry. Neither Ernie or I reacted negatively (maybe because the room is now free). Mostly we tried to calm her. We were both just happy to be in a safe, dry place. The bikes are secure, we have a big clean bed, the toilet works, we have our headlamps, camplight, and Kindles. We are missing out on wifi and TV and hot water, but we have gone without those things many nights.
Ultimately Ernesto and I conclude Cuenca is inviting. Even with our very small ride and walk through town, we can tell this cuidad is polished. I.e., this town is probably too classy for old, clown or animal themed garbage cans and definitely too classing for two stories of rebar sticking out of otherwise finished buildings. We read a bit about it during dinner, and we decided we want to see more of this city.
September 19
We had a lovely and sunny day exploring the streets and sights of Cuenca. Iglesias, museos, parques, gente, comida… todo es bonito.
One of our stops in town today was a beauty shop. After asking Ernesto, he agreed to cut my hair. After all, I trust him more than some random stranger in a dark and strange street booth. So we bought some scissors and a comb. It was, in some ways, a serious exercise in trust building. I like my hair. My hair isn’t great, but it's long and I can wear it up or down. But Ernie has built guitars, so of course he can cut my hair. So with a wet, freshly combed head, he went to work. The goal was an inch, and except for the one part where he took 2-3 inches, it looks great. I may or may not have freaked out when I saw that chunk of hair drop, but ultimately I feel edgy and cool with my new do. Asymmetry is the new style.
To El Marko: Ernesto just played Black Mountain Rag perfectly and he is never going to play it again.
To Ernesto y Tara: don’t ever forget the “learn to speak English” commercials. “I would like to dance” and “In sickness and in hell”.
We must have been riding on a little built up karma today… we saw the top of Chimborazo and a bunch of vicunas! We rode up and up to where there were no trees and no power lines, just wind, bunch grasses, and a few Ecuadorians with their llamas (and boy do I like llamas). I was laughing most of the way up, as the entire sky just got thicker and thicker with white clouds the more elevation we gained. The chances of seeing Chimborazo seemed slim to none. We didn’t even know where it was or if we had passed it. We turned a corner and I liked the way the (excessive) clouds looked over the valley and asked Ernie to pull over so I could take a picture. Turns out my camera was dead, and while I was fumbling around with it Ernie sees a snow covered something ahead, barely peeking out through the clouds. He says, “I think that is the mountain up there”. I ride up to him, take a few pathetic pics of the little we could see with the iPad, then we hop back on the bikes with a very small sense of satisfaction that we saw at least a little of it. But then, the sky just... broke. For a short while we got a spectacular view of Chimborazo. We could even see the rims of the glaciers on the top. It was a very nice moment.
Not even a few kilometers later Ernie spots a herd of five or six animals next to the road. Since I’d been making goofy noises over many of the cute llamas we had seen already that day, Ernie says “there are some cute llamas right there”. I spot them and then in a high pitched voice say, “Those aren’t llamas! Those are vicunas!!!” And over the next 5-10 km we probably saw about 50-75 more (and then after that, no more vicunas). We pulled over once to watch a herd feed that was right next to the road. They have very dainty feet and seem to defy gravity when they walk up and around rocks. To LD, I converted one of my side cases into a vicuna carrier and snagged a yearling. I’m pretty sure I can get her through all our border crossings, so start picking out baby names.
Then our descent… in three hours we got to experience all the habitat changes. First came the conifers, then some eucalyptus trees. The bunch grasses were replaced with small plants with small white or yellow flowers. Eventually there were trees and shrubs with big red and purple flowers and ferns and palms. And then by the time we reached the river basin it was full on jungle, with too many types of plants to keep track of. And then it was dry, and we were in the valley with a struggling ecosystem. Ernie was watching his temperature gauge today, and at Chimborazo it was 44 degree F and in Babahoyo it was in the mid 80’s. For those who are quantitative like myself, Chimborazo is just over 6000 meters (20,000 feet), and the road where we took the pictures from is 4000 meters (13,000 feet). It took us 100 km to ride down to Babahoyo, which is at 11 meters (36 feet) :0
We had our first bad coffee this morning, but we think that is user error. Ecuadorians, to our surprise, like and almost exclusively offer instant coffee. We read a few short articles about it, and the reasons are 1) coffee only grows at certain elevations, and Ecuador has many elevations, 2) Ecuadorians are not as affluent, and instant coffee is cheap, 3) instant coffee is easy, as almost all Ecuadorians have access to boil some water and store some coffee powder. The instant coffee we have had hasn’t been bad at all, and in some cases been quite good. Again, our bad coffee this morning was because we were the ones in charge of making it. We had no idea how much powder was appropriate for how much water. And I don’t think we will be learning this. Ignorance is bliss.
Also, side note: the crop of Ecuador is whatever they want it to be. With the rich soil, dramatic altitude, and proof of engineering greenhouses on seemingly any slope, they can and seemingly do grow everything. Granted, they cannot grow very much of any one thing, but the diversity of crops must be one of the largest in the world.
Babahoyo is a very nice little town. No gringos. During our two hour walkabout we did not blend in. We were hoping for some comida tipico but damn siesta hours, especially on a Sunday. So we had some Chinese instead, and it was pretty good. The adventure of our time in Babahoyo was definitely checking in. This hotel advertises a garage, and they do not have a garage. They have a ballroom that can store motorcycles. So to store our motos in the “garage”, we have to hop the 6” curb from the street to the sidewalk, hop the 10” step from the sidewalk to the lobby, ride through the lobby - tiled with polished white marble - around the fancy furniture, then park in the ballroom (more polished white marble). With a 50cc or even 250cc moto, hopping a 10” curb is no problem. But our bikes with all the gear weigh at least 650 lbs. There is no “hopping” a 10 inch marble step. The hotel owner does not want us to go to another hotel and is convinced we can make it work. In fact, both he and his 75 year old mother (La Senora) are convinced we can make it work. After I pay (of course) he collects some concrete blocks and boards, and Ernie and I are now convinced enough that with these new accessories, we can make it work (Ecuadorian peer pressure!). There were four of us pushing and pulling, but we got both bikes in there. And then, as we were futzing with exactly where to put them in the garage/ballroom, the guy says (in Spanish), “It's ok to park them anywhere in here. There are no more motos coming and no parties tonight”. Ha!
Side note about Babahoyo: both north and south of town are rich with tilapia farms, and unlike other areas, they are not covered with nets (presumably because they are too big of an area to cover with nets??). As such, the birding is spectacular. A variety of hawks, herons, egrets, and even a few kingfishers. We probably saw close to a thousand white herons today, and a least a few hundred hawks.
September 18
Today was not without trials. Ernesto and I had some downs, but it all ended up, and we continue to be committed to the ride.
We had a frustrating start to the day by just getting out of bed. The floor of our room was slick tile and had a tight ledge right by the foot of the bed/on the way to the bathroom. Overnight a thin layer of water covered over half the room. At first we thought it was a leak, but we couldn’t find any watermarks on the walls or anything dripping from above. Ernesto quickly found the source; the “plant” in the corner (which yes, we are ashamed we did not notice this set up when we checked in, but its a big room and we had no such thing on our minds). You know how all AC units need a place for the condensation to go? Well with no windows in this room, they set up a little system for the pipe to come out at the bottom of the wall, into a little bucket. Put a plastic green bush on top and voila, you have a fake plant that also serves as the water receptacle for the AC. Only trouble is, someone has to empty the bucket or the hotel room fills with water. Normally I don’t mind a wet floor, but I had put my moto clothes right on the floor in front of the bucket, so my pants in particular were soaked through. Knowing the discomfort of sitting in cold wet pants for hours on end (jacket NBD), I went to the front desk and asked about a dryer. He said there was no secadora, sorry. Another little bit of New Jersey came out and I explained (in poor Spanish) that the only reason my pants were that wet was because of their shitty AC system and the leak all over our floor. He made some calls, and an hour and a half later I had pants that were dry enough to leave Babahoyo. La Senora showed up about an hour in, and she was incredibly sweet about it. She runs a tight ship, and she yelled at at least four people about emptying the bucket and making sure that as soon as my pants were dry they were on their way back to the hotel. Her family showed up and they all wanted to see the motos (in the ballroom) and they wanted to know more about where we were from and where we were going. Gracias por todo Senora! Outside of the parking and AC situation, it was a very nice hotel. Actually, it was the second most expensive hotel we have had since Tapachula, Mexico - outside of Ernesto’s birthday (and that includes our evenings in the Galapagos). We only chose this place because it was the only place in town with a secure garage...
After a late start we had quite a day and quite a ride (see first paragraph of todays blog). I’ll only write about the two parts Ernesto and I want to remember. The first was the fog. I don’t even know if it was fog… it was too thick to be fog. It reminded me of the few (snow) whiteouts I’ve been in Montana and South Dakota. The road was windy, steep, and scattered with patches of gravel. Visibility was 5 meters at its worst, 10 meters at its best. At one point there were signs that said “Men Working 1 km”. Then “Men Working 500 m”, then 300m, 200m, 100m, and this was all taking us many minutes… We got to the spot where the men were (not) working, and it turned out that the entire right lane was gone. The road had given way and it was just a drop off. We couldn’t see it until we were right on it. Which, given our mental state, was probably a good thing, as it was probably a pretty scary sight. We both rode with our hazards on, and it took us about an hour to get through it. It was a long, long hour. Ernie just reminded me of something I forgot: one of the cars that rode by was taking our pictures. Wtf? It's hard to imagine they were doing that in a respectful way. Ernie says they will get posted on www.gringosareidiots.com.
But then POOF! Our best POOF yet! We got above the clouds. Blue sky, sunshine, and smooth pavement to climb up and up back to 4000 meters like yesterday. There was some harsh wind, but it was exhilarating to make the climb. It peaked and plateaued at Parque Nacional Cajas. Mountainous, Andean grasslands with a thick white cloud cover. The habitat is sprinkled with ponds and small lakes, and the water looked so clean, especially compared to much (all?) of the standing water we have seen since leaving Oregon. The local word for it is “paramo”, and this location and the highly adapted tree that grows here makes it one of the highest “true” forests on the planet. If the moon had bunchgrasses… that is where we were.
There was one section before beginning our brief descent to Cuenca where the road did hairpin turns around the small bodies of water and colorful cliffs… We have never seen anything like it. We have never seen pictures of anything like it. It was incredibly rewarding. With the unseasonable weather and fog with the lush grasses and tiny yellow flowers and giant, giant rocks… Ernesto said, “There are probably very few people that have had this experience.”
We are feeling the elevation, both here in Cuenca and the days before Babahoyo. Mostly we notice when we are climbing more than one or two flights of stairs. My original thought was how out of shape we are, but then I remembered that some people actually get high altitude sickness crossing elevations the way we have done over the past few days. So maybe we aren’t in as bad of shape as we think we are.
Everything we have read, we are in the dry season. We would not want to visit in the wet season.
Last adventure of the day was our hotel. We booked a place online and when we arrived the parking situation was not clear. We just stopped on the street like dumb gringos, but we had our hazards on like locals. After enough honks we moved along and figured we would u-turn and try it again. We forgot to turn our hazards off and were still driving slow (opps), so a local English speaker asked us what it was we looking for and offered to help. And hilarious - in his car he got in front of Ernie, stopped in the road, got out and walked back to Ernie and they proceeded to have a chat. Blocking all traffic, and no one honked! When E and I reflected on it later I said “that’s because we didn’t need a ride” ha ha. Anyway, we get back around and just park on the sidewalk in front of the hotel (the curb was not fun). The hotel receptionist explained that they have had problems with Booking.com and they have our reservation but all the rooms are booked. There was no hotel room available. I had wanted to use the “Reservation” Seinfeld reference for years, and I finally got to do it today. I stood in the lobby of that hotel and wave my arms about saying “Take Take Take”. Ernie didn’t know what I was doing, but when I explained later he laughed… Between her phone calls and my Googling we found a place just around the corner. It costs a little more, but it is much much nicer (and we will pay an extra $10 to not go into downtown orthogonal Cuenca). When we check in to the new hotel the receptionist tells us there is a little problem with the power, but it will be on 30-45 minutes. No problemo. We head out for dinner and to walk the aisles of the nicest grocery store we have seen in weeks (months?). And it is cheap (money wise) and classy (people wise). When we get back to the hotel the manager greets us and she is visibly upset… She informs us there will be no power through the evening and she is so very terribly sorry. Neither Ernie or I reacted negatively (maybe because the room is now free). Mostly we tried to calm her. We were both just happy to be in a safe, dry place. The bikes are secure, we have a big clean bed, the toilet works, we have our headlamps, camplight, and Kindles. We are missing out on wifi and TV and hot water, but we have gone without those things many nights.
Ultimately Ernesto and I conclude Cuenca is inviting. Even with our very small ride and walk through town, we can tell this cuidad is polished. I.e., this town is probably too classy for old, clown or animal themed garbage cans and definitely too classing for two stories of rebar sticking out of otherwise finished buildings. We read a bit about it during dinner, and we decided we want to see more of this city.
September 19
We had a lovely and sunny day exploring the streets and sights of Cuenca. Iglesias, museos, parques, gente, comida… todo es bonito.
One of our stops in town today was a beauty shop. After asking Ernesto, he agreed to cut my hair. After all, I trust him more than some random stranger in a dark and strange street booth. So we bought some scissors and a comb. It was, in some ways, a serious exercise in trust building. I like my hair. My hair isn’t great, but it's long and I can wear it up or down. But Ernie has built guitars, so of course he can cut my hair. So with a wet, freshly combed head, he went to work. The goal was an inch, and except for the one part where he took 2-3 inches, it looks great. I may or may not have freaked out when I saw that chunk of hair drop, but ultimately I feel edgy and cool with my new do. Asymmetry is the new style.
To El Marko: Ernesto just played Black Mountain Rag perfectly and he is never going to play it again.
To Ernesto y Tara: don’t ever forget the “learn to speak English” commercials. “I would like to dance” and “In sickness and in hell”.