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.