Log #7 Quito, Ecuador

The sprawl of Quito, way to the north and far to the south of a valley, was unexpected. It is so long that there are two main bus stations that bookend the city. After only two hours on the bus from Otavalo, I arrived at the North Bus Terminal but needed to find a way south to the Historical Center of the city where my hostel was situated. Heavy rain made a taxi quite tempting, but I didn't want to spend $10 on one. Plus, I had read some suspect things about fake taxies that made the bus seem safer. In my steadily improving Spanish I asked for the bus heading downtown and $0.25 cents later I was standing on the C-1 bus. 

It took about an hour, proving just how long Quito is, but I arrived at the well known Secret Garden Hostel fine and dandy. Though the small hill to the hostel, with my two backpacks and the altitude, left me completely out of breath, I settled in and spent the rest of the evening on the epic roof top of the hostel. With an insane view of the city before me, I laid low with my laptop until dinner time. Secret Garden serves dinner each night and those who participate share the meal together on the roof. So along with some new hostel homies, I enjoyed a perfectly average veggie burger and then, still recovering from my recent illness, retreated to my bed. 

With a twelve hour snooze under my belt, I woke up early and set out into the historical town to find some fruit for breakfast. It was a Sunday so nothing was open early. To kill time I walked up to the Basilica and bought a $2 ticket to climb up its towers. Once inside the Basilica you can walk across a bridge in the attic space of the main hall, up several steep steps and onto a look out platform in a spire. The view here not only includes the city and the parallel towers of the church, but on a clear morning like the one I had, you can see the peaks of three snow-covered volcanos. Completely captivated, I spent a good while figuring out the names of all the peaks. I can't be certain, but I believe it was Cayambe to the north, Antisana to the east and the one and only Cotopaxi to the south. I didn’t know it at the time but this would be the beginning of a new found obsession with Ecuadorian volcanoes. 

On my walk back to the hostel I found a couple little papayas and enjoyed them for breakfast back up on the hostel roof. The rest of my day was chill. I walked around Quito's historic center, popping into the occasional church, museum and shop. I discovered the traditional food market just around the corner from the hostel and picked up some snacks. A few stalls tended by sweet old ladies had huge bins of peanut butter, so I ran up to the hostel, grabbed my mason jar and had it filled to the brim with fresh peanut butter. It rocked. After a lovely day in the city I hung out on the roof with a beer and met a fellow University of Michigan grad who told me about a hike he had done the day before. It was a simple 20 minute cable car ride away and then roughly two hours to the peak. I recruited the German man sitting next to me and had my second day in Quito sorted. 

At 9 am the next morning with my new German friend in tow, we taxied to the TelefériQo, the cable car. We were early enough to avoid any lines and soon after purchasing our tickets were ushered into a car along with four other gringos. The ride was epic, for not only was the Quito sprawl put into perspective, but to the south the view included Cotopaxi almost completely free of the clouds that usually shroud its peak. It was the first time I laid eyes on the volcano and I couldn't, wouldn't look away. The whole twenty minute ride I was completely in awe of this idyllic sight.

Out of the cable car we walked down to a view point and snapped a couple pictures of the city. Then the two of us made our way down a path to begin our hike to the rocky peak of Ruku Pichiucha. The landscape surrounding the path was unbelievable. Golden grasses grew in bundles across rolling hills. Purple flowers and brilliantly green mosses covered the ground, growing between a strange mixture of vegetation some of which was succulent-like. This unusual vegetation set off a spectacular view with the Andes in every direction and Quito far below. 

This hike was no joke. Once at the base of Ruku Pichiucha, we hiked around the jagged rock top towards the back of the ridge where a path leads to the top. Several points along this route required some climbing with hands and feet, and as we climbed higher clouds started to surround us. The final 70 meters to the top was intense as the path wove across the rocky top of Ruku. Weather continued to move in, the temperature dropped and clouds completely obscured the top leaving us blind to the end of the hike. Then it started hailing. 

As we followed the path to the peak, we caught up to a larger group of people being led by a guide. Their serious gear suggested to me that this group was one of those that spends two weeks climbing a whole slew of mountains, so this was just a warm up for them. The path was hard to identify due to the clouds and the terrain, so we followed behind the group until finally, we all converged at the top. Neither my friend nor I were prepared for the weather surrounding us. With frozen fingers and running noses we didn't linger. After a round of congratulations and hugs with the group sharing the peak, we were ready to head back down. Our descent was quite a scramble along a path of loose rocks and sand, a different path from the one we had just climbed up. As we slid down the clouds continued to make it difficult to see even ten feet ahead until we met the main path that lead us out of the clouds and back to the cable cars. 

I'm not sure why, but this hike had an impact on me. Perhaps it was the landscape, made even more dramatic by the weather we experienced, it was unlike anything I had see before. Or perhaps it was the accomplishment of standing on the peak, the highest I have ever climbed at 4,800 meters. It's possible that I was higher during a family trip to the Himalayas, but I was two years old and carried by a Sherpa so that doesn't count. Perhaps it was how strong I felt the whole time. In Salento, Colombia I met and shared a day hiking with Markus, a German mountaineer. He told me to think about two things while hiking, small steps and big breaths. Regardless the instinct to increase one's gait when walking at an incline, small steps are "what get you to the top of a mountain." I practiced these two things during this hike and despite its intensity, I felt in control and really enjoyed myself. Slow and steady wins the race. Regardless the reason, something has been lit within me. I have always been curious about mountains and climbing, but I never really had the opportunity to test my passion before. However, here in the land of volcanoes, the opportunity presents itself. 

I have since decided that I may try my hand at the summit of Cotopaxi, the second highest volcano in Ecuador. I saw it for the first time from the cable car and cannot get that perfectly coned volcano out of my head. More so, as my 24th birthday approaches I have been thinking there is no better way to enter into another year of life than a summit attempt. The idea is extremely intimidating and maybe I like the idea of mountain climbing more than the reality, but I would like to try. It is worth a try even if I don't make it to the top.

Stay Tuned, 

lil