Even More Observations - Ecuador

A Matt Kelly Production - with more to be seen at www.pedalpanam.com

Even More Observations from Matt Kelly on Vimeo.

forgetting . . .

Keep yourself as an other
Keep perfection as a crime
Keep illusion for the end
Keep on line for the while

Jean Baudrillard Cool Memories

I have been on the road for nearly 9 months - about 7700 miles, close to 8400 miles including boat travel. I crossed the Tropic of Cancer and the Equator. My journey is beyond the half way point. My daily existence can be pretty all consuming at times . . . then nothing. I am forgetting a lot of things. My past life is falling away in pieces phone number by phone number. I don't remember my own phone number then again I don't have a phone. What did I wear before bike shorts and a jersey or jeans and red t-shirt? I remember faces without names, movies without titles, music without artists, places without addresses - I don't use them and they fade. I start to reference something in conversation then realize I don't remember details to make it relevant. I am forced into a new way of speaking, into the moment, because that is where I am. I talk to so many strangers they no longer seem strange. When I realized what was happening I resisted and tried to remember, sitting, pedaling, remembering, but you cannot fight the tide of forgetfulness. I don't actually feel any different just in a new place. I still swear to much. Perhaps memory is overrated, how much do I really need to know? I see faces that look familiar but I cannot remember the name of who they remind me of. I have read that there are only so many types of people in the world. I see the same faces over and over, maybe a little browner or a little shorter or a little taller but still a person I know. Makes the world feel small all of a sudden. As for news . . . what news? Wait the world is not here?

Last 200km of Ecuadorian Amazon

I woke early Sunday morning in Gualaquiza, switched back to my road tires and gave my ride a little tender lovin' care over coffee. I anticipated a fast 120km of road riding. On the photocopy of Matt's map, which was a photocopy of Dylan's map, the road follows the river valley all the way to Zamora on pavement. The overcast day was perfect for reeling off the kilometers cool but no rain. On the way out of town I bought some fruit and bread for the day - three middle aged ladies in the store asked where I was from and when I said I rode from New York they refused to believe me! Even after trying to convince them they were doubtful . . . I think they just liked my shorts and were trying to keep me in the store. They were incredulous that I was riding to Zamora in a day. All things being relative, Zamora was an easy 120+km/6 hour ride time - funny that I can consider six hours in the saddle “easy.” The road was beautiful and quiet following a river valley the entire way with only short climbs of no more than a couple hundred meters that offered longs views along the river valley. I expected
more clearing and ranching in the Amazon Basin because that is what you hear. But I saw lots of jungle, little to no large scale agriculture, and many small communities of Shuar and Ladinos. The improved road may change that but it is still a remote area with few services, spotty electric service, and infrastructure can be difficult to maintain - like this bridge. I would not say people looked nervous but a lot of folks were sticking their heads out the windows to look at the bridge as national police allowed one vehicle across at a time. But, then again, the buses stayed full and did not discharge their passengers to have them walk across . . . just in case. I have never seen a concrete bridge with this kind of sag before though. Now that I consider, I have crossed more temporary steel bridges in the past week than the rest of the trip. People are friendly curious as I pass through small towns and I get a lot of, "hey mister," not sure where that is from . . . maybe a television show - because nobody actually uses 'mister' in the English language unless you are addressing an envelope. I guess it is a change from 'gringo.' One gentleman hailed me from the side of the road and I pulled over to chat. While chatting his wife brought me a warm sweet tamarind flavored drink and they offered me a place a place to stay for the night or a couple. I thanked them but kept moving. Several of the small towns are holding small livestock auctions and I note that a yearling bull fetches about $200. None of the towns seem very old with modern style churches and plazas of contemporary design. Mid day I stop for a peanut butter sandwich lunch on the bank of the river.Sitting on the bank looking across at all those trees and hills I notice a small dugout out canoe against the opposite shore. Again I think I could hop in that canoe and be on the Amazon river in a month then paddle all the way to the Atlantic . . . the moment feels immense.

But I am not going to steal anyone's canoe just yet and get pedaling. I reach the small city of Zamora in the late afternoon and after a brief canvassing of the possibilities I check into a nice hotel on the main plaza that has WiFi, but no electricity - I am told it will come on at dark - it does. I manage to buy beer on Sunday, which is illegal in Ecuador, but I have yet to find a small store that won't put it in a bag and say, "shhhhh." I pass a comfortable night free of bed bugs. Never really knew what bed bugs were, I thought it was just something my grandmother would say, "sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite." But now I know - you cannot see the little bastards but they have a bite like a black flies and how clean a hotel appears is no guarantee you won't get bit.
I leave Zamora for Loja late, probably too late for the 60km climb out of the Amazon Basin but it is only 60km . . . oops.

The climb begins immediately out of Zamora and the day is overcast with a bit of drizzle. The road is under heavy construction often constricted to one lane - not that is really all that wide to begin with. I often find myself facing a steady line of traffic head on. Then it starts raining then really raining then pouring occasionally tapering to a steady drizzle. I am not too cold as long as I keep moving and I better keep moving if I want to make it to loja before dark. So onwards and upwards I pedal at a miserable 10kph. I resign myself to getting wet. There is no avoiding it and I throw on my wool t-shirt under the jersey for warmth and occasionally ring out my cap and gloves. The river is raging and waterfalls tumble off the hillsides in full force. Very scenic but I stop taking photos and tuck the camera away out of the rain - rugged as it may be, why tempt fate? The hills are lush and green. I stop for a coke and a drunk guy tries to get me to drink with him – besides the renewed emphasis on the Mother of God, Ecuador definitely reminds me of Mexico sometimes. By 4:30pm I am realizing that I am probably not going to make Loja by dark and am becoming resigned to a bit of misery in the dark though it has stopped raining. The scenery is incredible passing through Podocarpus National Park and temperatures are dropping. I tell myself that the worst has be over with and the top cannot be more

than 10-15 kilometers off. However, that still puts me in the dark, then a mid size (3-5 ton) truck pulls up and tells me, "venga," you bet your ass I am in. Pedro and Danny had passed me head on earlier in the day while I was standing and grinding through the deluge. They had been delivering construction materials to Zamora from Vilcacamba. They are full of the typical questions. We talk about my trip, I ask about what they are doing and from, tell them about upstate NY because I don't live in NYC. All in all nice guys in their late 20's early 30's. Coming off the pass into Loja they point out “Texas.” I ask what is Texas? A brothel. Prostitution is legal in Ecuador and I realize I have passed dozens of these places on the the outskirts of cities. I thought they were strip clubs but evidently they are more entertaining. And cheap $7! It becomes a joke as we pull into the city if anyone notices an attractive woman Pedro says, "7 dollars." Pedro says the woman are all Colombians. We talked a little politics and the perception of Colombia is that it is a dangerous place, the semantic equivalent to Babylon. I make a point to share my experience of Colombia and they are very interested. In the end, anyplace can be dangerous but people are generally nice. I guess if I want a good time in Vilcacamba I have their number.

Into the Amazon Basin

I have wanted to go to the Amazon Basin for a long time. The Amazon represents a limitless expanse of known and unknown possibility. A terror of freedom. I have outlined numerous routes for trips by boat and bike – watching movies, reading literature, adventure accounts, and scientific expedition reports to get ideas and logistics (plant/bug sciences geeks go to all kinds of cool places). Noting places where the natives are not friendly and active resource/land conflicts simmer. I was going to the Amazon Basin several years ago but bought a house, enough said. But I have little actually jungle experience and what I do have comes from this trip. So I figure taking some less traveled routes along the edge of the Amazon Basin would be a good way to dip my feet and get off the busy Gringo packed Panamericana. I begin my drop to the amazon basin by heading for Banos, a place aptly named for hot springs. Not remote but packed with Ecuadorians, other Latins, locals and foreigners there to soak at the base of huge waterfall in town. Though I took no photos - people do not generally approve of strangers taking their photos in bathing suits. A young German female confirmed this for me by bringing her camera into the bathes. Shortly after negotiating my way into town through the tourists in go carts and four wheelers, I met Matt in the street, or rather

he jumped me in the street. I took a day off to write and work on finding new tenants for my house which brought a sudden realization of my precarious travel finance situation. But with the situation is well in hand, Matt and I decide to drop to the Amazon Basin together. Originally, Matt was going to head to Cuenca along the Panamericana but volcanic eruptions in the last three months had reburied the road meaning he would need to backtrack – no fun and good company for me.Volcano Tungurahua in the background - note the volcano evacuation sign - run!

As much I adore standing shoulder to shoulder with strangers in boiling water like a pot of steamers, we leave Banos and drop to Puyos in the Amazon Basin along a gentle 3000+ foot/60 kilometer downhill along the river. The good paved road with bike paths skirting tunnels along the deep canyon makes for easy riding past “extreme” tourist attractions like zip lines and bungee jumping, or my favorite, “pesca deportiva,” which involves dropping a line in a wading pool full of farmed fish. Small restaurants dot the way selling food and beer – you gotta giggle when you see beer bottles lining bridges where people are jumping.
The only downer is an asshole in a truck throwing oranges at cyclists. I felt something whack me in the back and it took a moment to register what happened. No one has thrown anything at me since the United States, normally I am pretty nonplussed, but that pisses me off, in part, because it is dangerous. I catch the truck on a long downhill passing into a small town, taking a moment to grab a rock, and pull up to the offending passenger window when they are crawling over a speed bump. The guy looks surprised as he rapidly rolls up his window. I tell him to pull over, and then some, while debating putting my rock through the window . . . but that seems a little extreme. Instead, I bounced the rock off the door leaving a nice dent and move on . . . not the wisest course of action but I felt better. Consequently, I did not give it much thought but hoped I saw them first, if at all, later down the line. Matt later tells me the same guy hit him with an orange and left a bruise.

The road and river starts to bottom out around the town of Shell, named after Royal Dutch Shell, but it is little more than a collection of airstrips for accessing deeper into the Amazon Basin for oil services. We spend the night in the ramshackle (I like ramshackle) city of Puyo. After a morning of watching the Tour de France (Contador getting the jump on Fleck . . .) we head towards Macas on the newly paved road while to our left is thousands of square miles of road-less amazon. Beautiful fast riding on a long ridges past Shuar villages dropping to the Rio Pastanza. You could take any one of these rivers to the Amazon River and onwards to the Atlantic Ocean thousands of miles away. The riding is generally level with dips and climbs across river drainage's. Traffic is light with time for headstands and grub crossings. The long 130km day to Macas was complete with Volcano Sangay erupting in the distance as the sun set 10km outside of Macas – we were pretty ecstatic about our day's riding.

Over two shorter days the terrain becomes hillier during which Matt and I part ways as he begins his climb to Cuenca to pick up yet another new pump for his Optimus stove (courtesy of Optimus) and I continue towards Loja along the Amazon Basin.In the little town of Limon the pavement comes to an end and I stop my day early to switch my tires for fat 29'er mountain bike tires, change my front disc brake pads (1^st time), and check over the bike. In the morning I head up out of Limon for one of my slower days yet – 9 hour day (7.5 hour rt) with an avg speed of 11.8km to cover 88km - I thought the amazon would be flat!I was mistaken and the climbs are continuous and long but so are the descents so I don't feel cheated. The dirt road is hard surfaced but with loose rock and gravel over the top, and pot holes galore. But traffic is light and concentrated at the beginning/end of the day with road
construction in spots as Ecuador completes paving the entire route 45. I was glad to have my fat 29” mtn bike tires on for cushion and traction. Overall, a sparsely populated area without many services but very beautiful with steep jungle and small waterfalls coming out of the hills. People are either excited to see me on the bike or a little circumspect . . . maybe just shy . . . ?

I, also, expected the Amazon to be hot like Panama but, was glad to be wrong. The temperatures are 70's to low 80's with cool breezes up higher. I am tempted to grab long sleeves on my final descent shortly before dark into Gualaquiza. Gualaquiza is small town at the juncture of several major dirt roads and I decide to take a rest day here. Today it is pouring so good idea . . . we will see what that means for the rest of the road - I still have nearly 200 km to Loja. And no anacondas - yet.

Local Industry

Usually cane fields are big commercial affairs . . . but now I think I understand why people have little can fields.

Administrative Notes and Thanks

Administrative Notes - I have infrastructure issues . . .Internet connections have been a little tricky in the Amazon Basin. The connections exist but I need my connection reconfigured each time and the information I need is not always available from the teenyboppers behind the desk. On the upside I am learning new things about internet connections . . . oh joy – by the time I finish this little trip I should be a network specialist and writing html code. Also, it helps to have electricity . . . but i will have posts up very soon!



A big THANK YOU to everyone who has given me support in donations of time and money. Recently, my tenants had to break their lease resulting in an “oh shit” moment. I realized I really am on the other side of the planet now - but friends were close. A good home is easy to leave and easier to return . . . though I am out of my actual house until September 2011 now. Good thing I enjoy traveling (and have friends and family with homes) . Thank you.

Volcano Sangay releasing!

Matt and I were cruising into the evening through the Amazon Basin right on the edge of endless jungle when we noticed the sun setting on Volcano Sangay. A few kilometers later Volcano Sangay was releasing!
Nothing like a little evening eruption to put a happy ending on a 130km day.

Series L Los Ninos

Cemeteries can be peaceful and contemplative. I took a walk in the walled cemetery in Latacunga located on the edge of the old downtown. I immediately noticed the 'L' series because they have only one date, some ornate, some scrawled by hand. Children always die but their was something about seeing them grouped.

Cotopaxi

I finally left Otavalo after a five day break . . . I was going to leave on Sunday but the first mountain stage of the Tour de France was in the morning and the final game of the World Cup was is the afternoon which didn't leave much time for riding. I left late Monday heading for Volcano Cotopaxi just above Quito. The riding was pleasant with no climbs much over 2000 feet and on day two I turned up into the mountains towards the community of Rumipamba and Cotopaxi. I do not have a specific map of Ecuador, and forgot to make a copy of Dylan's, but Matt had emailed me a rough descriptive outline of the route - Cotopaxi is huge (5800+ meters) so going to be hard to miss. The weather has been pretty unsettled and I am getting rained on daily and this afternoon was no different. At 3 o'clock I turned off the main road for what promised to be a steep rocky climb. I hesitated and drank a beer while watching black clouds roil with thunder and lightening in the valley to my right. But they seemed to be tracking down the valley and I was headed up and up. The worst is that I get wet and cold - there is no bad weather just poor clothing choices, as they say. Wow! it really was steep then it went from dirt to narrow slippery cobble. Originally, I thought 15 km was no problem but I began to have doubts when I was pushing my fully loaded ride up the steep cobbled hills (if in Binghamton, think Sherwood). Cold and wet was becoming a distinct possibility, as well as, dark. The three great motivators. One would think 3 hours is plenty of time for 15 kilometers, one would think. The green hills occasionally relented, the right choices made at unmarked intersections, I soothed a sketchy horse tied in the road, and made it to a shelter before dark in time for cocktail hour.Perhaps the credit should go to my new found ride mojo, Barbie.
The shelter was by some cascades and it was nice to be out of the rain without having to set up a tent. I missed my fly rod camping by the perfect trout stream that I knew was good because of the "no fishing" signs. The morning dawned not too bright but not raining yet as I pushed up the steep wet cobbled hill to the main route, I hesitate to say road. I stopped within a half kilometer to catch my breath and to check out what appeared to be a shrine. The well maintained shrine was a water stain in the likeness of the Virgin Mary - you do not even have to squint to see the likeness. I have noticed a greater prominence given to the Virgin in the Ecuadorian Andes that reminded me of Mexico. Though not as much as Mexico, where you really have to look around to find Jesus in some churches. Also, if you are looking for divine intervention you tend to ask the mother - any eight year old can tell you that. After climbing down from the shrine and pondering an unclear map with cryptic sign I see below Dylan pushing up the steep cobbled hill.
Ah, reunited! We did not exactly plan it but we were all going in the same direction at the same time. Matt and Dylan had left from Quito the day before and were just a little behind me having stayed in someones spare house 5km below me. We sat, ate, pondered maps (theirs), then finally asked directions from a local passing on a motorcycle (all dirt bikes and enduros here). We continued climbing steeply with breaks passing through valleys before coming up onto the plateau somewhere over 11,000 feet. Clouds were starting to build up in the valley below and we knew that Cotopaxi was somewhere close by towering over us but we couldn't see for the clouds. We continued climbing on a dirt road until it finally started to rain while we made lunch huddled out of the wind against a stone wall. But the flowers were pretty.

Decision time, stay up high in the rain seeing nothing getting wet and cold or head down at the last intersection back to the Panamercana below . . . we decided head down. The point was to see Cotopaxi not get hypothermia. First, we stopped at a nearby swanky lodge to fill up water bottles. When we walked into the main lodge a wood stove was burning and fresh coffee was brewed . . . oh yes! lets sit and see if it clears. An hour+ later we stepped out and it started to rain again, then hail, then sleet, then we went back in and I ordered a beer. Two hours later we decided to take up the offer to camp and ended up in the caretakers carport ($25 rooms were a little out of our price range). We cooked dinner and passed the night warm and dry with temps in the low 40's. The next morning we were rewarded with a stunning view of Cotopaxi. I rousted Matt from his downy warmth saying, "you are going to want to see this while it lasts."Our setting was a little more spectacular than we had imagined despite the repeated assurances of the caretaker.
And the views lasted all of an hour between 6am and 7am before the clouds moved back in.
We set off after coffee to pass through Cotopaxi National Park and down the other side back to the Panamericana. The terrain was high alpine and what few trees existed were planted as a wind break - perfect for Bolete mushrooms! And rewarded I was, though many were slimy from the rains I found enough perfect specimens for lunch later in the day. Both Matt and Dylan are unfamiliar with wild fungus but I assured them that the worst that can happen is a few hours of vomiting and diarrhea, besides I have picked and eaten a lot of boletes etc. . . and these are fine. Where is your cast iron skillet? Break out the butter! They were tasty and nobody died.
We never did see Cotopaxi again, besides the lower scree slopes, the eruption paths, and the occasional glimpse of the lower snow line. I forgot to mention that Cotopaxi is the highest active volcano in the world and it really is active along with all the others around this area of Ecuador.

The riding was pleasant and gently climbing until just shy of 13,000 feet. We stopped occasionally to enjoy the view but it was a little chilly and Dylan is cold. Matt to make a handstand for his collection of handstands across continents. When we started down from the plateau it was a fast dirt road descent of close to 2000 meters.The road was in pretty good shape with one stream crossing and as we approached the Panamericana in the valley below we found other signs of civilization.After getting fully down to pavement in about 45km we headed to the small commercial city Latacunga to take naps, shower, and eat. All in all a very worthwhile detour from the busy Panamericana that has me pretty excited to drop into the Amazon Basin and traverse the second half of Ecuador on dirt roads into Peru.