Despite a few scares with the ol' Landcruiser, la aventura a Patagonia continues...
Patagonia
Day 5
"After fifty-two hours of driving, I'm glad to have left both the desert and the car. The Andes are a nice change in scenery from the arid Atacama desert. We've arrived to Mendoza, Argentina but are too physically and mentally exhausted to explore the city. I fell asleep in a chair while waiting for the mechanic to servicethe camioneta. Bad news, the oil leak is irreparable and we're losing 1/2 - 3/4 of a litre per day. Good news, no oil changes necessary for the rest of the road trip... Just keep topping her up."
Los Andes near Mendoza, Argentina
Day 6
"Mendoza is wine country. Today is our first day not on the road. A bottle of wine sets me back $1.60 US on the low end and $12 US on the high end. There are vineyards and bodegas to visit, and world-renowned Argentinian bistec to be had."
Bodega Lopez
Day 7
"Late start this morning... Probably should've laid off the wine a little earlier. Nevertheless, we're on the road and hoping to make San Carlos de Bariloche in under 24 hours."
"The turn-off for Ruta 40 Sur was tough to identify. We drove past it twice before realizing it was the gravel road to our right. May not make our timeline."
Ruta 40
"The road got worse - from gravel to dirt. But this is why we bought a 4WD Toyota Landcruiser, so we kept pushing forward. Unfortunately, we eventually got stopped and turned around by a construction worker. For the six hours we've been on the road, we're only 120 km away from Mendoza. We're definitely not making it to Bariloche in under 24 hours."
From gravel to dirt on Ruta 40 to Patagonia
We definitely put our 4WD to use
Day 8
"Made some espresso and milanesa sandwiches for breakfast on the side of the highway before push-starting the truck. In addition to the problem starting the truck, which happens every morning, we can't get it to run at RPMs greater than 1500. Crawled the 15 km into the next pueblo, Malargüe, to fix it up. Fortunately, its an old Toyota with few moving parts and we only paid $50 US to fix it. Unfortunately, we're in Argentina where siesta shuts down the whole countryfrom one to five in the afternoon. Meaning, we won't be back on the road until then."
Tom cooking some breakfast at the side of Ruta 40
"We're really in it now. Rugged mountains, sandstorms hurling golf ball-sized rocks, and gauchos. Ruta 40 turned into gravel once again. A hundred kilometre stretch took us over four hours to negotiate. In the two days since we left Mendoza, we've covered less than 450 km. If this is an indication of the rest of the roads to, and in, Patagonia, I'm afraid we may not make Ushuaia."
Gaucho Territory
Gaúcho
"Running on fumes and this pueblo has no gas station. Forced to knock on doors in search of fuel, anything to take us to the next town. First door I knocked on turned out to be some sort of boarding school or orphanage. It caught me off guard. I was swarmed by the kids and staff, and needed to greet each and every one of them before they would even hear out the reason of my being there. I was escorted to the police headquarters where an officer hooked us up with several litres of gasoline free-of-charge. My driving shift begins in three hours."
Day 9
"It was 01:30 and I had an eight hour driving shift ahead of me. And the shits. I had to pull over about three times an hour and brave the unrelenting winds, while Tom slept in the back without a worry in the world. But if all goes well, and Yvon Chouinard is right, drinking the un-purified water will have been worth it - I'll be able to drink river water all throughout Patagonia... Furthermore, at least I got the front row seat when the sun rose - we had reached the gateway to Patagonia."
Volcán Cotopaxi consistently makes it to the top of travellers' itineraries when visiting Ecuador. At an elevation of 5897 metres, Cotopaxi is the second highest peak in Ecuador and the third highest active volcano in the world. It attracts both hikers who want to admire the textbook conical shape of the volcano, and mountaineers who aim to stand on its glaciated summit. It was my goal to experience the latter. After all, how hard could it be?
As I started looking into what the climb involved, the gravity of the task began to sink in. I heard first-hand accounts of the climb, which invariably held that Cotopaxi was one of the biggest challenges of their lives both mentally and physically. The success rate was also discouraging, which was consistently well under 50% from everyone I asked. Accordingly, I took some measures to improve my chances at summiting.
Preparation
First-class seats en route to Quito
First thing was to get my hands on some suitable mountaineering gear. While I wasn't totally unprepared - I brought with me base layers and both down and hardshell jackets for the harsh weather of Patagonia - I was missing a few key things. Therefore I headed to Quito, Ecuador's capital. I stayed at the Blue House Hostel in the Mariscal district, which was situated within walking distance of several outdoor shops including Andes6000, Tattoo Adventure and a North Face outlet store. After taking care of the gear, I began researching Ecuadorian guiding outfits.
There was definitely no shortage of guides to choose from in Quito. I decided to go withGulliver Expeditionsand pay a little extra to go one-on-one with a guide - I didn't want to be responsible for my partner missing the summit if I couldn't make it, and vice versa. Now that the logistics were in order, it was time for the physical prep.
I hopped on a bus headed into the Avenue of Volcanoes. Here I planned to do some hikes and acclimatize. The first five days I did a popular trek from village to village in the Andes known as the Quilotoa Loop. The highest elevation I reached on this hike, however, was merely 3900 metres on Volcán Quilotoa - i.e. two kilometres in elevation shy of that of Cotopaxi.
Crater lake of Volcán Quilotoa
Iliniza Norte was the next step; at 5126 metres, this volcano would give me an idea of how I'd fare in the high altitude climb of Cotopaxi. My guide Sergio and I started from the parking lot at 3950 metres. After two and a half hours, weathering a snow storm and a steep scramble, we made the summit. With this relatively quick pace and not feeling any symptoms of altitude sickness, I was feeling pretty confident about Cotopaxi.
The Ilinizas, Sur (left) and Norte (right)
The scramble to the top
Summit of Ilinza Norte
Attempting Cotopaxi
Sergio picked me up from my luxurious room at Hosteria PapaGayo at noon on February 27th. On the way to the climbers' refuge we stopped at a road-side restaurant and had a two-course meal, the sopa and pollo Ecuadorian classic. After a few hours of sleep, I woke to a three-course meal. It was raining hard and the clouds showed no signs of lifting. I was told that I had five hours more to sleep and if the weather didn't improve, the climb would be off. It was tough to fall back asleep. Between 5:30 and 11:30 I think I managed to get about an hour of light sleep. Fortunately, the weather had improved and we were going to give Cotopaxi a shot - after one last meal of course...
We drove up to 4500 metres, geared-up and began the approach to the glacier at a quarter past midnight. After an hour and a half we had reached the glacier, strapped on our crampons and tethered ourselves together. It was pitch black and all I could see was the headlamp-illuminated ice directly beneath my feet. Nevertheless, it's not as if I would've appreciated the scenery around me if it had been visible - in fact, it was probably for the better. Upon reaching the glacier, we climbed up pitches between 30º and 50º the whole way; unlike regular hikes where the trail levels off a bit after a steep pitch, the route up Cotopaxi got steeper and steeper as we got closer and closer to the summit. I eventually shut-off my brain, shut-out the pain and focused exclusively on the side-stepping rhythm of one-two-three: downhill foot, uphill foot, ice-axe and repeat. The only break in routine was for a quick drink of water and the opportunity to take in the city lights of Latacunga and Quito in the distance.
After six hours of this gruelling climb, we reached the summit of Cotopaxi just in time for the sunrise. A second-wind hit me and I felt a huge feeling of satisfaction. There I was, standing at 5,897 metres - 19,347 feet - above sea level looking into the crater of this monstrous volcano. Unfortunately, the high didn't last long for I realized I still had to descend this freagin' thing with the little energy I had left. At least this time I would see what it was I had actually climbed up!
Sunrise at the peak of Cotopaxi
Crater of Cotopaxi
View of the Andes
Triangular shadow attests to the textbook conical shape of Volcán Cotopaxi
La Vista on the descent
Sergio and I
I was in a daze, with a pretty bad headache, as we drove past wild horses in the national park on the way back to Hosteria PapaGayo. After hopping on a bus bound for Quito and checking into the hostel, I climbed into bed at four in the afternoon, totally content, and fell into a 17-hour slumber to the tune of 'Wild Horses'...
‘Quilotoa Loop’ is the name given to a multi-day trip from
village to village in the Ecuadorian Andes. It rewards those who take the
sketchy bus rides and complete the hikes with breathtaking views of a volcanic crater
lake and a glimpse of everyday life in Ecuador’s highland villages. Thinking
that this would be good cardiovascular training and acclimatization for a
couple of high altitude climbs I had planned, I left Quito on February 18th
for Latacunga, which was where I’d begin the loop.
City of Latacunga & the start of the loop
The first leg of the journey involved a three-hour bus ride
to Isinliví. The driver, who was preoccupied with his novia and phone as he negotiated the numerous switchbacks cut into
the mountainsides, coupled with the numerous crucifixes lining the road, put us
on edge the whole way. But we made it to the sleepy village of Isinliví in one piece. The
cobble-stone streets were empty. There were no pubs or restaurants, nor were
there grocery stores. There was one woman in town with internet connection who
was willing to share it, but supposedly it wasn’t strong enough to open your
e-mail. Underscoring the quaint nature of Isinliví was a map of the town found
at Hostal Llullu Llama, in which every home was labeled with titles such as the
‘Italians’, after the Italian expats who made wooden furniture, and ‘Helena’s
Mum’, who I could only guess was the mother of some lady named Helena…
The sleepy town of Isinlivií
Map of Isinliví
Hostal Llullu Llama
The next day we hiked to Chugchilan. The trail wasn’t
physically challenging, but it was a challenge to navigate; the trail was not
only used to connect the towns of Isinliví and Chugchilan, but also had
numerous branches used by the locals to get to their homes and farms. We
climbed over mountains, followed rivers, crossed pastures and encountered a
couple of tiny towns along the way. Chugchilan was a little bit more lively
than Isinliví and so I decided to see what was around. Walking down the street
I noticed a large pig struggling in an alleyway and what I thought looked like
blood spilling down the cement walkway. As I neared this same alleyway on my
way back to Hostal Cloud Forest I noticed the scent of burning hair. I had no
doubt about it, the pig was being slaughtered. I explained to the family that
I’ve never seen an animal being butchered and I asked if I could come in to
watch, with which they had no problem.
Hiking through pastures on the way to Chugchilan
Small Andean village on the way to Chugchilan
Andean Escuela
Chugchilan
The hike to Quilotoa proved tougher than we had anticipated.
After hiking for a few hours and gaining several hundred metres of elevation we
arrived to the rim of Volcán Quilotoa. The elevation gain put us right in the
clouds and, unfortunately, we didn’t have the best view of the crater lake. We
decided to head into town to spend the night at Hosteria Alpaca Quilotoa and save the hike around the rim of the volcano for the next morning
when there would be better visibility. But we made a wrong turn; we didn’t read the full instructions and
instead of staying within the crater, we descended the outside. There were a few clues that should’ve put us back on the right track: first, the trail we were taking was full of switchbacks and our map
showed a straight trail to Quilotoa; second, we passed a sign
for Quilotoa indicating that it was 3.5 km in the opposite direction; and,
finally, we passed a sign for Guayama San Pedro, a town we had passed a couple
of hours earlier. Due to the poor visibility brought on by the clouds, it took
us an hour to realize we had come down the same route we had ascended!
Fortunately, by the time we climbed back up to the volcano the clouds had
somewhat cleared and we had a great view of the lake.
Laguna Quilotoa
Poor visibility at Volcán Quilotoa
Crater lake of Volcán Quilotoa
The final stretch of the Quilotoa Loop involved a bus ride
back to Latacunga. We got a ride to Zumbahua from which we could catch a bus.
We arrived right as they were loading up sheep on the roof of the bus. As we
started driving along the winding roads we could hear the steps of the sheep as they tried to maintain their balance, but they couldn't always do so...
Loading up some extra passengers on the roof
Sharp turn
Hiking from Andean village to Andean village along the
Quilotoa Loop proved to be a great experience. I had a chance to interact with
the locals, got a glimpse of everyday life in the Ecuadorian
highlands, and saw some beautiful views along the way. I can only hope that the exercise and acclimatization also
helps me in my attempts at the summits of the Ilinizas and Cotopaxi next week.
Just a few hours from the Colombian border, nestled between several volcanoes in the Ecuadorian Andes, Otavalo is home to South America's largest outdoor market. I decided to arrive to Otavalo a couple of days shy of the infamous Saturday market to give myself time to brush up on my bargaining skills - I needed to be at the top of my game in order to fulfill my goal of spending as little money as possible to replace my beachwear with some warm clothing suited for the high altitude of the Andes.
Saturday February 15th was game day. I woke early in the morning to catch the animal market which was held at the outskirts of town. Indigenous Ecuadorians proudly wore their traditional clothing as they flocked to the market to sell and buy everything from guinea pigs to horses. Puppies ran for as little as $2 US and cows for $500 US.
Animal market
Satisfied customer
As tempted as I was to purchase some livestock, Plaza de los Ponchos was where I'd put my bargaining skills to the test. Here countless artisans flooded the main square and spilled into the side-streets to sell colourful textiles, ponchos, sweaters and scarves. After several hours of searching and bargaining I walked away with a scarf and two sweaters hand-made from alpaca wool. While admittedly more than I intended to buy, it only set me back $38 US!
Artisan market in Plaza de los Ponchos
Food market
With fresh vegetables from the food market, wool sweaters from the artisan market and funny memories from the animal market, I returned to Hostería Rose Cottage to finish off the day with a stir-fry, a bottle of wine and a view for the books.
