Libro sobre el Quilotoa, con magníficas fotografías, mapas, anecdotas.. un muy interesante material para recorrer esta bella parte de nuestra tierra Ecuador

1. 1

2. 2
The Quilotoa Loop
Ecuador’s Hidden
Treasure
Susan
Schenck
Photography
by
Nate
Resnick
Copyright
2013
by
Susan
Schenck
and
Nate
Resnick.
All
rights
reserved.
Except
for
short
excerpts
intended
to
be
used
for
promotional
or
educational
purposes
only,
no
part
of
this
publication
may
be
reproduced
or
transmitted
in
any
form
or
by
any
means,
electronic
or
mechanical,
including
photocopying,
recording
or
by
any
information
storage
and
retrieval
system
without
prior
permission
from
the
author.
Disclaimer
The
purpose
of
this
book
is
to
dispense
information.
It
is
sold
for
information
purposes
only.
The
author
and
publisher
do
not
assume
any
responsibility
or
liability
arising
from
the
use
of
this
book.
Cover
design:
TC
Tahoe
at
tc@tctahoe.com
Cover
photo:
The
Quilotoa
Crater
Lake:
photo
taken
by
Nate
Resnick
Kindle
formatter:
Mike
Attisano
at
mattisano@yahoo.com

3. 3
Dedicated
to
both
of
our
late
fathers,
who
instilled
in
us
a
spirit
of
adventure
and
appreciation
of
nature
Quilotoa
loop
area
with
Volcan
Illiniza
in
the
background
The
Quilotoa
area,
high
up
in
the
Andes
of
South
America,
lies
about
43
miles
or
70
kilometers
southwest
of
Quito,
Ecuador,
as
the
crow
flies.
Though
I’d
lived
in
Ecuador
for
over
three
years,
I’d
never
heard
of
these
majestic
mountains
and
villages
surrounding
the
Quilotoa
crater
lake—a
magnificent
sight
that
inspires
breathtaking
awe,
right
up
there
with
Niagara
Falls,
the
Grand
Canyon,
the
Sahara
Desert,
and
other
wonders
of
the
world.
Most
foreigners
who
live
in
Ecuador
have
never
heard
of
it.
Most
surprisingly,
even
many
Ecuadorians
I’ve
met
draw
a
blank
when
I
mention
this
hidden
treasure.
So
when
Nate,
a
professional
photographer
(whose
website
is
www.nateinecuador.com
).
suggested
we
collaborate
on
a
book
about
this
largely
unknown
spot,
I
readily
agreed.
We
invited
our
friend
Peggy
to
go
with
us.
Join
us
on
our
journey!

4. 4
Our
mission
with
this
photo
book
is
to
enlighten
as
many
people
as
possible
about
this
beautiful
area.
If
you
can
handle
the
altitude,
you
don’t
have
to
be
a
fit
hiker
to
enjoy
this
area.
You
can
still
see
most
of
the
sights
by
taking
a
bus
or
car.
.
.
or
even
riding
a
horse!
You
may
even
be
inspired
to
go
there
yourself.
When
you
get
ready
to
make
this
trip,
there
are
some
points
to
be
aware
of.
The
last
ATM
machine
you’ll
find
is
in
Latacunga.
Also,
be
prepared
to
get
unplugged!
Many
of
these
villages
have
no
Internet,
while
for
those
that
do,
the
connection
is
sketchy
and
very
slow.
(In
two
weeks,
there
were
only
two
days
I
could
answer
a
few
emails.)
Even
cell
phone
connections
are
unreliable.
Be
aware
of
the
Ecuadorian
tradition
that
when
you
book
a
room
at
a
hostel,
you
usually
pay
per
person
rather
than
per
room.
So
often
it’s
just
as
cheap
for
a
couple
to
have
separate
rooms—great
to
know
if
one
of
them
snores!
The
hostels
are
inexpensive
but
often
not
what
you
may
be
used
to.
Bring
sandals
for
when
you
shower.
That’s
a
lesson
I
learned
in
my
20s
after
getting
athlete’s
foot
in
a
hotel
shower.
To
this
day
I
get
occasional
flare
ups!
Bring
a
warm
sweater—or
better
yet,
don’t.
You’ll
be
overwhelmed
with
inexpensive
alpaca
sweaters
for
sale.
Be
sure
to
bring
raingear,
gloves,
sunscreen,
hiking
boots,
and
of
course,
a
camera.
If
you
bring
a
phone,
get
Claro
rather
than
Movistar.
In
some
of
the
villages,
Claro
is
the
only
cell
phone
that
has
reception.
Bring
plenty
of
cash,
and
especially
small
bills
like
$10
or
under.
Change
is
hard
enough
to
get
in
Cuenca
(the
third
largest
city
of
Ecuador)—but
even
scarcer
higher
up
in
the
Andes.
Credit
cards
are
almost
never
accepted.
Note
that
when
I
don’t
list
the
hostel
address,
it’s
because
the
village
is
so
small,
there
is
no
address
(or
none
required).
You’ll
find
the
place
easily
enough
due
to
the
size
of
the
town.
Also
note
that
that
your
mileage
may
vary—my
pedometer
readings
may
be
a
bit
off,
making
the
mileage
as
much
as
10
to
15%
higher.
Time
is
the
most
important
variable:
figure
that
it
takes
about
an
hour
to
go
a
mile
due
to
the
uneven
terrain.
September
17,
2013:
from
Cuenca
to
Alausí
Nate,
Peggy,
and
I
all
met
at
the
bus
station
(terminal
terreste)
in
Cuenca,
Ecuador
at
8:00
AM.
Since
I
detest
sitting
in
buses,
we
decided
to
take
two
days
to
get
there.
We
caught
a
bus
to
Alausí,
a
four-­‐hour
drive
that
costs
$5.00.
Alausí
(elevation
3,323
meters,
or
10,902
feet)
is
a
tiny
town
of
about
6,000
inhabitants,
famous
for
its
switchback
train
ride
known
as
Naríz
del
Diablo
which
means
“devil’s
nose.”
Rides
cost
$25
($14.50
for
anyone
65
or
older)
and
are
offered
at
8:00
AM,
11:00
AM,
and
3:00
PM
on
most
days.
The
ride
is
40
minutes
each
way
and
when
you
get
to
the
destination
there
is
a
small
meal,
indigenous
dancing,
a
little
museum,
and
artesanos
(handicrafts)
for
sale.

5. 5
Approaching
Alausí
The
buildings
surrounding
the
train
track
are
picturesque
in
a
Disneyland
sort
of
way—colonial
in
style
and
painted
bright
pink,
orange,
turquois,
green,
etc.
As
luck
would
have
it,
there
are
no
3:00
rides
on
Tuesdays
so
we
missed
out
(though
Nate
had
already
done
the
ride
months
ago).
We
stayed
at
the
Hotel
Europa,
costing
us
only
$10
each
for
separate
rooms—but
sharing
public
bathrooms.
We
walked
along
a
platform
with
an
environmental-­‐educating
mural
painted
on
the
wall.
Finally,
we
walked
along
a
new
railroad
track
bridge
(“Puente
Negro”)
that
will
eventually
lead
to
rides
to
Quito.
We
saw
several
school
children
fearlessly
walking
this
track
that
bridged
over
a
canyon.
We
walked
around
the
town,
up
to
the
majestic
statue
of
San
Pedro,
made
of
colorful
mosaics
and
high
up
on
a
platform
with
stairs
leading
up.
It’s
only
one
of
several
miradores
(lookouts)
overlooking
the
valley.
Nate
bet
us
both
a
beer
that
he’d
beat
us
by
taking
an
alternate
route.
He
lost.
He
later
paid
up
by
getting
us
each
a
24-­‐oz.
Pilsener
(a
popular
and
inexpensive
local
beer)
for
$1.50
a
bottle
at
a
Chinese
restaurant.
As
we
drank
our
beer,
we
noted
the
children
playing
ball
in
the
streets.
There
were
so
few
cars
in
the
town
(most
of
them
parked)
that
they
didn’t
perceive
any
danger
in
this.

6. 6
Statue
of
San
Pedro
in
Alausí
Finally,
we
ate
at
a
hole-­‐in-­‐the-­‐wall
pizza
restaurant
with
only
two
tables.
The
one
we
ate
at
was
in
the
family
garage,
with
a
kid’s
bike
and
a
baby
stroller
adorning
the
walls!
I’m
not
much
at
long
bus
rides
so
Alausí
is
a
perfect
overnight
stop.
I’m
transcending
into
the
high
Andes.
I’m
finally
getting
out
of
my
Cuenca
comfort
zone
and
am
considering
this
adventure
to
be
a
spiritual
journey
in
addition
to
just
sightseeing.
It’s
also
a
journey
of
discovering
what
Ecuador
is
all
about.
September
18,
2013:
from
Alausí
to
Latacunga
In
Eucadorian
villages,
often
Nescafé
(a
powdered
coffee
that
has
very
little
flavor)
is
all
that’s
available.
And
as
the
saying
goes,
“Nescafé
no
es
café,”
meaning
that
it’s
not
real
coffee.
We
managed
to
find
some
real
coffee
in
a
bakery
around
the
corner,
where
we
downed
a
couple
of
expressos.

7. 7
Me
shopping
in
Latacunga
We
hopped
on
a
bus
at
about
8:00
AM
to
Latacunga,
our
first
city
in
the
Quilotoa
region.
The
cost
for
this
four-­‐hour
ride
was
$4.00.
At
10:30
we
were
all
booted
off
the
bus.
There
weren’t
enough
passengers
to
make
the
trip
to
Latacunga
and
Quito
worthwhile.
But
when
a
policeman
came
by
to
hear
people
complain,
we
spotted
the
driver
slipping
him
some
money.
Nonetheless,
the
driver
was
commanded
to
refund
us
for
the
latter
part
of
the
trip
and
we
each
got
a
dollar.
Peggy
showed
us
some
photos
on
the
bus
ride:
the
guy
who
collected
the
money
from
us
had
been
making
out
with
a
woman,
all
over
and
on
top
of
her.
Not
too
discrete!
We
caught
another
bus
to
Latacunga,
a
city
of
about
87,000
residents,
which
spearheaded
the
Quilotoa
Loop.
The
elevation
is
about
9,186
feet
or
2,800
meters.
We
got
situated
in
a
hotel
for
$15
each
on
Quito
Street,
Hotel
Rosim,
which
has
a
link
at
http://www.hotelrosim.com/index.html.
Next
we
hiked
around
the
city,
enjoying
a
small
lake
with
paddle
boats
and
walking
by
a
river.
While
I
did
yoga
and
Nate
took
a
nap
on
the
lawn,
Peggy
was
talking
to
nine
teenagers
in
the
park:
all
of
them
were
on
Facebook.

8. 8
La
Laguna
in
Latacunga
We
noted
a
big
difference
in
the
indigenous
women:
they
were
slim
and
wore
shorter
skirts,
mostly
black
(as
opposed
to
the
colorful
ones
in
Cuenca).
Instead
of
Panama
hats,
both
genders
here
wore
felt
hats
which
sometimes
had
a
peacock
feather
in
them.
We
learned
these
hats
were
not
cheap,
costing
about
$75,
but
lasted
a
long
time
and
were
water-­‐proof.
One
question
I
pondered:
why
were
the
indigenous
women
so
slim,
while
in
Cuenca
they
were
round
and
apple-­‐shaped?
Diet
could
be
a
factor,
though
I
noticed
the
diets
were
similar.
Perhaps
those
high
up
didn’t
drink
as
many
sugary
soft
drinks,
for
example.
I
concluded
that
in
part
that
the
assimilation
of
the
young
was
a
factor
in
making
it
appear
that
those
in
the
Andes
were
slimmer:
in
the
Andes,
the
young
women
were
not
as
integrated:
they
still
wore
the
traditional
outfits.
So
in
Cuenca,
they
assimilated
and
sported
tight
jeans,
not
standing
out
as
indigenous.
Latacunga
doesn’t
get
much
tourism
because
Quito
is
only
a
two-­‐hour
bus
ride
away.
There
are
also
few
people
of
Spanish
descent.
All
of
this
adds
up
to
less
influence
on
modern
fashion.
The
indigenous
stick
to
their
traditions
much
more.
That
was
only
part,
though.
Even
the
older
indigenous
women
were
notably
slimmer
than
those
in
Cuenca.
I
concluded
that
the
higher
altitude
was
a
factor—as
I
explain
in
my
book
Expats
in
Cuenca,
Ecuador:
The
Magic
&
The
Madness,
high
altitude
means
burning
more
calories—and
even
100
a
day
adds
up
to
ten
pounds
a
year!
Then
I
learned
that
the
altitude
in
Latucunga
is
only
about
1,000
feet
higher
than
that
of
Cuenca.
I
decided
the
factor
was
probably
mostly
due
to
walking:
the
25-­‐cent
buses
mean
less
walking
for
those
in
Cuenca.
Latacunga
is
such
a
relatively
small
town
that
most
people
simply
walk
everywhere.

9. 9
We
went
in
search
of
some
dark
chocolate,
which
took
about
an
hour
to
find,
after
asking
quite
a
few
people.
Finally
we
stocked
up
on
a
few
large
bars,
knowing
this
could
be
our
last
chance
as
we
headed
higher
up
in
the
Andes.
Me
walking
around
Latacunga
This
will
be
my
last
night
before
tackling
the
unknown
of
the
Andes
highlands.
I
have
a
sense
of
foreboding,
as
well
as
the
mystical
and
intriguing.
September
19,
2013:
from
Latacunga
to
Tigua
As
we
hit
the
streets
at
7:30
AM
we
realized
chocolate
was
not
the
only
thing
that
was
scarce—real
coffee
was
also
hard
to
find
this
early
in
the
morning.
People
were
getting
haircuts
and
the
streets
were
alive
with
children
going
to
school.
But
where
could
we
find
a
cup
of
coffee?
Funny
how
so
many
people
in
Ecuador,
known
for
its
coffee
and
chocolate,
didn’t
relish
their
most
popular
exports.
We
finally
got
a
cup
at
a
hotel
that
opened
at
8:00.
Next
we
walked
to
the
bus
terminal
and
got
$1.00
tickets
to
Tigua,
a
very
small
village
with
an
elevation
of
11,482
feet
or
3,500
meters.
A
three-­‐day-­‐old
calf
joined
us
in
the
luggage
department.
An
indigenous
man
explained
that
he
bought
the
fellow
for
$45
because
the
newborn
calf
of
one
of
his
cows
had
died.
In
about
hour
we
arrived
at
Tigua
and
walked
with
our
backpacks
to
the
Posada
de
Tigua,
where
we’d
stay
the
night.
http://www.amigosdelasaps.org/content/la-­‐posada-­‐de-­‐tigua/edrACEFFE65E00E0AF34
While
walking
along
the
freeway,
a
fierce
Andean
wind
blew
me
completely
horizontal!
I
had
grown
up
in
Indiana
where
the
winter
winds
could
go
up
to
50
miles-­‐per-­‐hour,
and
I’d
never,
ever
experienced
being
blown
over
like
this.
Extremely
alarmed,
I
noted
that
had
I
been
standing
a
foot
to
the
right,
I
would’ve
fallen
enough
that
I
surely
would
have
broken
some
bones,
if
not
my
neck!
In
fact,
I
may
have
died.

10. 10
I
got
away
from
the
curb
and
joined
my
two
friends
as
we
took
a
short
cut
through
the
hills.
Even
though
it
meant
walking
steep
downhill,
which
I
detest,
it
would
keep
up
from
being
knocked
over
by
the
strong
winds.
As
we
neared
the
inn
where
we’d
be
interviewing
the
owners,
Nate
reminded
me
to
“look
professional
by
taking
notes.”
I
showed
him
my
notebook
that
I’d
bought
for
25
cents
at
a
stationery
store
in
Cuenca:
a
cartoon
of
“little
boy
blue
blowing
his
bugle”
was
on
the
cover!
Posada
de
Tigua
As
we
neared
the
entrance
of
a
magnificent
looking
ranch
house,
we
passed
cows
and
sheep
along
with
their
little
ones,
as
well
as
llamas,
geese,
ducks,
and
dogs.
Owners
Margarita
and
Marco
Rodriguez-­‐
Boada
gave
us
a
tour:
the
inn
has
four
guest
rooms
with
private
baths
and
two
with
no
bathrooms.
The
owners
stay
in
one
without
a
bathroom
so
that
their
guests
will
have
that
option.
Llamas
in
Tigua
The
place
has
a
very
unique
“ranch”
feeling.
Antiques
adorn
every
room
and
hallway—with
old
radios
sprinkled
everywhere,
along
with
antiques
such
as
a
sewing
machine,
phonograph,
lanterns,
an
iron,
etc.
Sheepskins
provide
floor
décor.
There
is
a
wooden
stove
and
after
I
hand
washed
some
clothes,
I
learned
that
metal
sticks
could
be
opened
that
hover
over
it,
so
that
the
clothes
can
dry
while
hanging
over
the
fire.
There
is
even
an
old
jukebox
filled
with
songs
in
Spanish!
A
huge
Bible
in
Spanish
is
in
the
living
room.
A
huge
part
of
land
used
to
belong
to
Marco’s
great
great
grandfather,
but
in
the
1960s
the
government
made
laws
that
land
had
to
be
dispersed
among
the
indigenous
families,
some
800
of
them.
Each
indigenous
family
would
divide
the
land
among
their
children.
But
eventually
the
land
would
be
split
up

11. 11
into
such
small
plots
that
the
people
would
have
to
move
to
the
city
to
make
a
living.
As
a
result,
much
of
the
land
is
no
longer
used
for
farming.
Posada
de
Tigua
As
for
Marco
and
Margarita,
about
nine
years
ago
they
decided
to
turn
their
ranch
into
an
inn,
which
they’ve
had
great
success
with.
There
are
three
dining
tables
because
sometimes
a
tour
bus
will
stop
there
for
dinner,
if
not
to
spend
the
night.
There
is
no
wifi
or
cable
Internet,
so
Margarita
has
to
call
her
sister
in
the
city
to
find
out
if
any
reservations
have
been
made.
The
owners
remarked
about
how
the
climate
had
radically
shifted
in
the
past
decade.
By
now
there
should
be
rain,
for
example.
The
cold
and
warm
temperatures
have
gotten
extreme,
and
at
times
in
the
past
ten
years
there
have
even
been
mosquitoes.
There
used
to
be
thousands
of
little
black
frogs;
now
there
are
none.
Now
flowers
can
be
planted
for
export.
Since
the
wind
sometimes
blows
down
the
green
houses,
farming
became
less
profitable,
which
led
to
the
concept
of
having
an
inn.
They
supplement
that
income
by
selling
milk
to
places
in
Latacunga
for
32
cents
a
liter.
Marco
told
us
that
he
loves
the
geese,
and
while
they
eat
their
eggs,
the
birds
are
meant
only
for
adornment.
If
his
wife
threatens
to
eat
any
of
them,
he
will
tease
her
that
he
intends
to
eat
her
llamas.
Together
they
enjoy
all
the
animals
on
their
hacienda
(ranch).
After
a
lunch
of
delicious
homemade
soup,
we
tackled
the
high
uphill
climb
to
the
various
artesano
handicraft
galleries.
Yes,
we
could’ve
taken
the
long
way
and
gone
by
the
freeway,
but
we
preferred
the
shortcut
going
steep
uphill.
We
were
instructed
to
avoid
a
certain
route
that
could
entail
some
angry
dogs.
When
we
got
to
the
top
of
the
hill,
we
were
delighted
to
find
all
sorts
of
handicrafts,
including
knitted
wool
hats,
paintings
(such
as
unique
ones
done
on
feathers!),
alpaca
sweaters
and
scarves,
painted
masks,
and
much
more.
While
hiking,
I
was
standing
below
an
outcropping
that
reminded
me
of
my
hike
to
the
top
of
the
formidable
Mandango
hill
in
Vilcabamba.
To
date
that
has
been
my
most
challenging
hike
in
Ecuador.
No
doubt,
the
Quilotoa
Lake
rim
would
be
harder.

12. 12
Here
I
am
hiking
around
Tigua
In
the
evening
we
enjoyed
a
couple
of
beers
with
a
couple
from
Belgium,
two
medical
doctors
and
their
20-­‐year-­‐old
daughter
who
are
touring
Ecuador.
I
felt
like
I
was
back
in
Europe
as
I
was
speaking
not
only
English
and
Spanish,
but
also
French
and
German.
I
really
enjoyed
the
solitude
that
this
inn
offered.
With
nothing
but
fatal
darkness
this
moonless
night,
I
was
able
to
go
deeply
into
myself.
September
20,
2013:
from
Tigua
to
Zumbahua
Last
night
the
howling
Andean
winds
made
me
feel
glad
I
was
tucked
in
bed,
under
a
number
of
thick
wool
blankets.
I
pondered
how
the
animals
could
keep
warn
in
the
open
barn.
At
breakfast
we
were
served
Margarita’s
homemade
cheese
(queso
fresco)
and
yogurt.
Though
I
usually
don’t
eat
dairy,
I
couldn’t
resist
eating
a
bit
of
these
treats.
We
also
got
real
coffee
(not
Nescafé!),
bread
with
butter
and
jam,
and
eggs
to
order.
I
asked
the
couple
about
the
winds
and
how
I
could
hear
them
howling
last
night.
“Sometimes
there
is
no
wind,”
Margarita
stated.
“Other
times
the
winds
are
much,
much
stronger.
Last
night
was
not
so
fierce,
actually.”
I
still
thought
about
the
wind
that
had
blown
me
over
yesterday.
Would
I
be
able
to
do
the
crater
rim
walk
without
being
blown
over
to
my
death?
The
image
was
beginning
to
haunt
me.
After
breakfast,
it
was
time
to
leave.
Marco
drew
us
a
map
so
we
could
walk
to
the
next
city
of
our
tour:
Zumbahua,
with
an
elevation
of
12,467
feet
(3,800
meters).
We
each
walked
at
our
own
pace,
catching
up
or
waiting
for
each
other
periodically.
The
hike
took
five
hours
and
ended
up
being
about
8.6
miles
(about
14
kilometers).
Peggy
and
I
went
ahead
but
Nate,
who
way
over-­‐packed
(carrying
35
pounds),
wanted
to
rest
some
more.
I
had
learned
from
hiking
El
Camino

13. 13
de
Santiago
in
Spain
earlier
this
year:
carry
no
more
than
10%
of
your
body
weight.
I
pared
down
my
backpack
contents
till
it
all
weighed
no
more
than
15
pounds,
though
I
weighed
about
123.
Peggy
and
me
on
the
road
to
Zumbahua
When
Peggy
and
I
arrived
at
Zumahua,
we
booked
rooms
at
the
Condora
hostel
for
$6
each.
Later
when
we
saw
that
the
shower
was
a
mere
trickle,
we
switched
to
the
Hotel
Quilotoa
for
$8
each.
The
water
there
wasn’t
very
strong,
either,
as
it
turned
out.
Even
the
Lonely
Planet
warned
that
in
this
city
you
needed
to
be
sure
to
have
your
flip
flops
while
showering,
as
things
are
not
clean.
I
knew
from
decades
ago
that
showering
in
cheap
hotels
without
wearing
sandals
would
give
me
athlete’s
foot,
an
extremely
uncomfortable
condition
I
battled
for
about
a
decade.
We
were
the
only
gringos
here.
In
fact,
we
were
likely
the
only
ones
of
European
descent—the
Spanish
conquistadores
didn’t
appear
to
have
settled
in
these
very
high
regions.
Approaching
Zumbahua
After
a
$2.50
almuerzo
(lunch),
I
went
in
search
of
an
Internet
cabin.
I
knew
the
next
few
days
would
not
include
Internet
access,
so
I
made
this
a
priority.
It
should
be
easy,
I
thought,
since
there
are
three
such
cabinas
in
town.
The
first
one
I
went
to
had
plastic
covering
the
keyboards.
A
nice
concept,
I
thought,
but
really
my
fingers
couldn’t
adapt.
One
had
to
be
really
adept
at
using
this.
I
went
to
another
cabina
but
my
password
didn’t
work—even
after
I
enlisted
help
from
the
teen
in
charge.
Finally,
I
went
to
another,
but
it
was
full
of
children
with
no
empty
computer.
As
a
last
resort
I
went
back
to
the
second
and
used
a
different
computer.
I
finally
got
into
my
email,
but
the
connection
was
so
slow,
I
just
checked
for
anything
that
might
be
important
and
then
left.
Interestingly,
all
three

14. 14
centers
were
run
by
children
who
looked
like
they
might
be
13,
but
could
be
older
since
the
population
in
the
Andes
tends
to
be
shorter
than
in
Cuenca.
This
was
my
last
moment
of
Internet
addiction.
After
this,
I’d
care
less
and
less
about
what
emails
I
might
be
getting.
I
fully
surrendered
to
being
unplugged.
Town
square
of
Zumbahua
Zumbahua
has
been
the
most
indigenous
town
I’ve
been
in
since
coming
to
Ecuador
over
three
years
ago.
I
sense
that
I
am
not
only
not
in
Kansas,
but
also
pretty
far
from
Cuenca.
Meantime,
the
streets
were
being
paved
and
the
tar
was
fresh.
I
had
no
choice
in
my
search
for
an
Internet
cabina
but
to
step
a
few
times
on
this
tar.
My
shoes
had
lost
their
track
from
the
sticky
tar
and
three
times
I
almost
fell.
Would
I
fall
while
hiking
the
crater
lake
rim?
September
21,
2013:
from
Zumbahua
to
Quilotoa
I
noticed
that
I
had
not
been
sleeping
much
these
days—usually
only
two
or
three
hours
per
night.
Later
I
came
to
realize
it
was
the
altitude.
We
had
a
joke
that
whenever
something
didn’t
go
right,
we’d
blame
it
on
the
altitude.
But
sleep
has
been
an
issue
for
me
ever
since
I
moved
from
the
sea
level
of
San
Diego
to
the
2,530
meters
or
8,300
feet
mountains
of
Cuenca—and
now
I
was
going
much
higher.
Breathing
was
not
an
issue
for
me,
but
sleep
sure
was.
This
morning
we
were
awakened
by
the
booming
indigenous
music
that
surrounded
the
area’s
well
known
market,
right
in
the
square
in
front
of
the
hotel.
Everything
from
pig
heads
and
humitas
(Ecuador’s
version
of
tamales)
to
alpaca
ponchos
and
scarves
were
for
sale.
Nate
got
a
red
alpaca-­‐wool
blend
poncho
for
only
$25
and
persuaded
me
to
get
a
lovely
gray
alpaca
sweater
for
$20.
I
got
the
price
down
to
$15
because
the
vendors
were
anxious
to
make
their
first
morning
sale,
which
they
believe
brings
good
luck
in
getting
the
day
moving.

15. 15
Saturday
market
at
Zumbahua
We
had
another
pseudo-­‐coffee
for
breakfast,
leaving
me
without
my
dopamine
fix
as
I
was
forced
to
get
weaned
from
the
real
stuff.
Since
our
backpacks
(especially
Nate’s)
were
getting
heavier,
and
since
Peggy
had
some
muscle
issues,
we
decided
to
have
some
drivers
take
us
the
7.9
miles
(12.7
kilometers)
to
Quilotoa,
with
its
elevation
of
12,841
feet
(3,914
meters).
The
hike
wasn’t
too
scenic
anyway,
since
it
was
just
along
the
road.
Since
there
are
no
taxis
per
se
in
this
area,
and
buses
don’t
come
till
around
2:00
PM,
hiring
a
driver
seemed
to
be
the
only
option.
In
any
case,
it
cost
only
$5
for
the
three
of
us.
Indigenous
skirts
for
sale
at
the
Zumbahua
market
In
about
15
minutes
we
got
to
Quilotoa,
with
an
elevation
of
12,841
feet
or
3,914
meters.
There
is
no
wifi
or
Internet
in
this
town
of
only
150
people,
so
it’s
the
ideal
place
to
get
unplugged
for
a
few
days.

16. 16
Quilotoa
We
lodged
at
a
relatively
new
place
and
definitely
the
best
hotel
in
town:
Quilotoa
Crater
Lake
Lodge,
located
slightly
away
from
this
town
of
150
inhabitants.
Their
web
site
is
http://www.quilotoalodge.com.ec/
Quilotoa
Crater
Lake
Lodge
40
years
ago
this
area
had
been
barren,
but
the
tourism
business
gradually
encouraged
people
to
settle
in.
Next
it
was
time
to
see
the
much
underrated
crater
lake.
No
photos
Nate
took
could
do
it
justice:
the
sight
was
on
par
with
any
previous
wonders
I’d
ever
seen,
such
as
the
Niagara
Falls,
the
Grand
Canyon,
the
Canadian
Rockies,
and
the
Sahara
desert.
Why
had
I
lived
in
Ecuador
over
three
years
and
not
heard
of
this
majestic
former
volcano
now
filled
with
a
bright
turquois
lake?

17. 17
The
majestic
Quilotoa
Crater
Lake
The
lake
is
a
water-­‐filled
caldera
believed
by
the
natives
to
be
without
a
bottom.
It’s
the
most
western
volcano
in
the
Ecuadorian
Andes.
The
rim
is
three
kilometers
or
two
miles
wide
and
it
typically
takes
four
to
six
hours
to
walk
the
perimeter.
The
high
variety
and
concentration
of
minerals
make
the
water
alkaline,
and
the
water
color
shifts
from
different
shades
of
green,
to
turquoise
and
blue.
Truly
this
is
the
most
majestic
sight
in
Ecuador,
if
not
all
of
South
America.
Three
distinct
snow-­‐capped
volcanoes
surround
the
laguna,
adding
immensely
to
the
beauty.
What
incredible
splendor
is
in
this
small
relatively
unknown
spot.
Only
a
handful
of
people
in
the
world
on
this
day
can
say
they
are
witness
to
this
transformative
sight.
The
closest
thing
in
the
USA
would
be
the
Havasupai
Falls
in
Arizona,
which
is
also
turquoise
in
color.
We
walked
1,200
feet
(366
meters)
down.
Normally
such
a
steep
downhill
trek
makes
me
so
cautious
that
I
can’t
enjoy
it—but
the
steady
gaze
of
the
lake
soothed
my
nerves.
Even
when
I
had
to
pass
the
dusty
part
where
there’d
been
a
rockslide
and
I
had
to
hold
on
to
a
rope
to
keep
from
falling,
it
didn’t
bother
me.
The
glorious
sight
of
the
lake
overpowered
my
senses.
For
those
who
don’t
feel
confident
about
walking
the
hike,
horses
can
be
rented
for
$8
downhill
and
another
$8
back
up.
Kayaks
are
available
for
$5
per
hour
per
person.
Just
as
hotels
are
rented
not
per
room,
but
per
person—so
are
the
kayaks,
which
seat
two
people.

18. 18
Me
at
the
Princess
Toa
Hotel
We
noted
the
Princess
Toa
hotel:
these
are
rooms
for
rent
that
contain
no
electricity
or
running
water,
but
are
right
in
front
of
the
lake.
You
can
also
pitch
a
tent.
Sheltered
by
the
rim,
the
wind
down
there
won’t
be
as
much
of
a
problem.
In
order
to
book
one
of
these
rooms,
you
need
to
contact
Jose Jacome
at josejacome67@hotmail.com and he will give you his cell phone so you can meet him in the town to get
set up. In this region, the cell phone company Claro has service, but Movistar usually doesn’t.
Here I am hanging out in the Quilotoa crater
We
went
hiking
a
bit
around
the
lower
areas
and
I
grabbed
onto
a
rock
for
support,
unknowingly
grasping
a
cactus
that
looked
like
a
fern.
Many
tiny
needles
pricked
my
hand,
which
I
plucked
out,
one
by
one.
Fortunately,
the
rocky,
dusty
trail
removed
nearly
all
the
tar
from
the
bottom
of
my
shoes.
The
wind
was
quite
mild
compared
to
that
of
Tigua,
but
I
still
had
to
remove
my
sun
visor
many
times
to
keep
it
from
blowing
away.

19. 19
Kayaking
in
the
crater
lake
The
uphill
hike
took
an
hour
and
15
minutes.
It
was
tough
going
up
a
1,200
feet
(366
meters)
vertical
and
I
was
singing
in
my
mind,
“You’re
Only
Human”
by
Billy
Joel,
especially
the
part
where
he
goes,
“Don’t
forget
your
second
wind!”
Peggy
and
Nate
had
both
hiked
the
Grand
Canyon
and
agreed
that
it
had
been
easier
than
this
uphill
hike—longer,
but
not
as
steep.
We
were
ready
for
a
beer
after
6.25
miles
(10
kilometers)
of
hiking
accumulated
during
the
day.
The
restaurant
of
our
hotel
ran
out
of
beer,
so
we
went
into
town
and
got
a
few
24-­‐ounce
Pilseners
for
$1.50
each
plus
25
cents
deposit.
The
bottle
cap
admonishes,
“Disfruta
con
moderación,”
which
means,
“Enjoy
in
moderation.”
Quilotoa
beach
At
7:00
it
was
time
for
dinner,
and
Marlo
the
chef
prepared
what
I
considered
a
relatively
healthy
Paleo
diet,
devoid
of
wheat
and
dairy:
chicken,
potatoes,
the
local
quinoa
soup,
and
a
tree
tomato
dessert
with
just
a
bit
of
cinnamon
and
sugar
glaze.
(Fresh
popcorn
was
our
appetizer.)

20. 20
We
learned
that
Fausto,
one
of
the
two
owners
of
the
lodge,
had
created
the
beautiful
paintings
and
painted
masks
adorning
the
hotel’s
walls.
His
father,
also
an
artist,
created
many
of
the
wool
items
(socks,
scarves,
sweaters,
purses,
etc.)
for
sale
in
the
dining
room.
The
hotel
has
10
rooms
with
the
capacity
to
shelter
22
people.
The
rooms
include
hot
water
and
private
bathroom.
Rooms
run
$20
per
person,
but
$30
with
breakfast
and
dinner.
Fausto
loves
his
business
and
meeting
people
from
all
over
the
world.
Most
of
the
guests
come
from
other
regions
of
Ecuador,
or
the
USA,
Germany
and
France.
The
busiest
months
are
July
and
August
because
that
is
when
children
break
from
school
(even
though
that
is
the
winter
in
Ecuador).
Next
is
November,
December,
and
January,
when
tourists
come
from
the
Northern
hemisphere
on
their
winter
break.
I
didn’t
expect
to
sleep
much
the
evening
before
the
big
event,
but
I
find
myself
oddly
at
peace
here.
It
is
so
peaceful.
Time
stands
still.
September
22,
2013:
walking
the
Quilotoa
Lake
Rim
Today
was
the
day
I’d
been
anticipating
for
over
a
month,
when
we
first
planned
this
trip.
I
had
even
written
instructions
for
loved
ones
on
what
to
do
if
I
died.
I’d
read
blogs
warning
not
to
do
this
trek,
admonishing
about
how
people
had
fallen
to
their
death.
On
the
other
hand,
I
also
knew
that
the
vast
majority
hadn’t
died.
But
if
one
of
us
died,
I
joked,
we’d
have
to
rename
this
rim
the
“Kill-­‐otoa.”
Here
I
am
hiking
the
rim
of
the
crater
lake
I
also
felt
comfort
in
hiring
a
guide:
surely
he
would
steer
us
away
from
risky
areas
and
he
would
know
alternate
paths
in
case
of
fierce
winds.
Francisco
was
the
man.
Fausto’s
father,
age
54,
had
been
guiding
this
trek
since
1985.
And
his
fee
was
only
$30
–
not
per
person,
but
a
flat
fee.
Weren’t
our
lives
worth
$30?
Francisco
picked
us
up
at
the
hotel
at
8:00
AM.
Sure
enough,
the
wind
was
blowing—and
often
I’d
have
to
take
my
sun
visor
off
in
order
to
keep
it
from
falling
down
to
the
lake.
Sun
visors
are
hard
to
find
in

21. 21
Ecuador,
so
I
held
on
tightly.
Fortunately
it
wasn’t
as
fast
and
furious
as
that
day
in
Tigua—otherwise
we’d
probably
have
had
to
postpone
the
trek.
As
we
walked
around
the
rim,
the
vast
majority
of
it
was
pretty
easy.
Sometimes
the
wind
was
especially
fast
and
our
guide
would
have
us
bushwhacking
behind
the
rim’s
peak.
If
we
had
fallen,
we
might
have
gotten
a
bit
scraped
up,
but
no
broken
neck
or
anything.
He
also
knew
all
the
alternate
paths
to
take
if
something
seemed
too
hard.
But
every
single
time
I
came
back
to
where
the
lake
was
in
view,
it
was
almost
like
seeing
it
for
the
first
time,
soliciting
a
big
“WOW.”
I’d
just
have
to
stop
a
minute
and
appreciate
this
majestic
sight;
after
all,
that’s
what
we’d
come
here
for.
I’m
daring
to
hike
the
thin
trails
of
the
rim
“You
have
to
stay
away
from
the
rim
when
the
wind
is
strong,”
he
advised.
“Even
if
the
wind
is
blowing
in
a
safe
direction,
it
can
suddenly
do
a
U-­‐turn
and
blow
you
over!”
He
also
told
us
of
a
recent
death
in
the
crater
rim.
A
couple
from
Holland
went
without
a
guide.
The
man
was
hovering
near
the
rim
when
he
suddenly
got
dizzy,
probably
from
altitude
sickness,
and
fell
into
the
rim.
A
loud
scream
was
heard
at
3:00
PM
from
his
girlfriend.
By
11:00
PM
the
lifeless
body
was
found.
(I
was
so
glad
to
have
a
guide.)
About
an
hour
and
a
half
into
the
hike,
Peggy
decided
to
drop
out,
thinking
it
was
too
risky.
About
three
quarters
into
the
hike,
things
did
get
pretty
intense.
Several
times
there
were
long
stretches
not
suitable
for
those
with
fear
of
heights:
put
your
foot
off
the
narrow
path
and
you
fall
to
your
death,
as
many
have
done.
But
I
was
so
ecstatic
that
it
wasn’t
as
hard
as
I’d
imagined
it
to
be
that
I
couldn’t
help
but
look
down,
with
a
death
defying
dopamine
rush!
Francisco
would
admonish
me,
“Don’t
look
down!
This
is
scary,
even
for
me!”
(And
he’d
been
a
guide
for
28
years.)

22. 22
Sun
shimmering
on
the
laguna
We
broke
for
lunch,
sitting
on
the
grass,
and
joked
that
this
could
be
our
“last
supper”
since
the
really
steep
and
narrow
part
was
just
to
come.
Francisco
picked
some
blueberries
for
us
to
eat.
They
weren’t
exactly
blueberries,
but
looked
similar,
and
are
called
morteños
in
Spanish.
Once
we
saw
a
shepherd
egging
a
bunch
of
his
sheep
and
goats
to
walk
along
the
rim.
I
wondered,
“Are
Capricorns
better
at
mountain
climbing
since
they’re
the
goat?”
(By
the
way,
I’m
a
Capricorn.)
Then
came
the
peak
of
the
rim—there
were
a
few
stretches
of
maybe
ten
feet
or
so
when
we
had
to
do
some
nearly
vertical
“rock
climbing.”
I
knew
my
body
was
capable
of
this
since
I
had
been
doing
these
small
stretches
while
climbing
to
the
second
waterfall
in
Giron,
Ecuador.
Amazing
color
of
the
lake
When
we
got
near
the
extreme
peak,
the
place
of
ultimate
highness,
Francisco
advised,
“No.
Take
the
alternate
path
unless
you
are
very
strong.”
I
replied,
“This
is
what
I
came
to
do!”
I
climbed
up
to
the
summit
and
Nate
videotaped
me
in
all
my
glory,
shouting,
“I’m
the
queen
of
the
world!
¡Soy
la
reina
del
mundo!”
(I
was
plagiarizing
Leonardo
DiCaprio
in
the
move
Titanic.)
Toward
the
end
of
the
rim
we
came
upon
a
beautiful
teak
wood
lookout
place
(mirador)
where
a
group
of
local
men
were
sitting
and
chatting.
Nearby
was
a
new
hotel
spot,
Cabañas
Shalalá
(http://shalala.uphero.com/),
a
soon-­‐to-­‐be-­‐open
eco-­‐center
for
tourists
to
stay
at,
right
by
the
lake
but
in
the
upper
area
near
the
rim.
The
sustainability
and
upscale
aspect
is
designed
to
attract
foreign
tourists;
the
lodges
are
modern
with
electricity,
hot
water,
and
new
beds
with
comfortable
mattresses.

23. 23
Me
at
the
mirador
The
hike
took
us
six
hours
total
though
it
was
only
seven
miles
(11
kilometers).
Francisco
said
the
norm
was
four
or
five
hours,
but
Nate
stopped
a
lot
for
photos,
and
we
aren’t
so
young
any
more.
(I’m
57;
he’s
62.)
Francisco
said
the
fastest
group
he
ever
took
did
it
in
three
hours—young
men
in
their
20s
who
had
a
race.
Upon
finishing
the
hike
I
was
so
euphoric
to
still
be
alive—and
feel
more
alive
than
ever—that
I
tipped
Francisco
an
additional
33%
(meaning
ten
bucks
on
top
of
the
$30),
for
which
he
was
grateful.
I
also
promised
I’d
include
his
cell
phone
in
this
book
so
he
could
garnish
more
business:
099-­‐427-­‐2361.
He’s
a
guide
not
only
for
the
crater
rim
hike,
but
also
hikes
to
local
hot
springs,
Inca
caves,
the
Rio
Tuache
Canyon,
the
nearby
village
of
Chugchilán,
and
a
waterfall.
He
also
asked
me
if
I
could
help
collect
some
used
clothing
and
household
items
for
the
poor
people
in
the
area.
I
promised
him
I’d
come
with
some
boxes
the
next
time
I’d
be
in
the
area,
and
he
said
he’d
meet
me
at
Latacunga
so
I
wouldn’t
have
to
lug
the
goods
around.
He
told
me
many
people
said
they’d
help,
and
he
would
get
the
hopes
up
of
the
locals,
but
nothing
would
happen.
“Maybe
it’ll
be
easier
for
you,
since
you
live
in
Ecuador.”
I
agreed.
While
we
had
a
beer,
Francisco
told
us
the
sad
story
of
how
his
two
horses
(used
to
carry
tourists
up
and
down
the
lake
for
earning
extra
money)
recently
died.
A
dog
scared
them
and
they
fell
down
the
crater
rim
to
their
death.
He
said
all
his
“wawas”
cried.
(In
Quechua,
the
local
indigenous
language,
the
word
for
baby
is
wawa,
since
that
is
the
noise
they
make
when
they
cry.
This
word
has
seeped
into
the
Ecuadorian
Spanish
vocabulary.)
Francisco
called
one
of
his
eight
children
to
come
and
bring
some
of
his
handmade
crafts
(artesanos).
We
happily
purchased
$56
worth,
including
a
couple
of
wool
purses,
a
belt,
and
a
scarf.
For
the
rest
of
the
day
and
night,
I
was
on
a
dopamine
high.
I
could
now
understand
why
people
climbed
high
mountains,
risking
loss
of
their
digits
or
possible
death
in
an
avalanche.
I
could
see
why
thrill
seekers
always
had
to
raise
the
bar
for
their
next
event.
I
was
even
contemplating
hiking
the
Cotapaxi
volcano,
which
was
at
16,000
feet
(4,877
meters)!
I’d
heard
that
out
of
nine
busloads
of
tourists,
only
two
people
would
usually
make
it
to
the
top.
By
now
I
felt
so
invincible,
why
wouldn’t
one
of
those
two
people
be
me?

24. 24
Quilotoa
lake
When
we
caught
up
with
Peggy,
she
was
glad
we
were
still
alive.
She’d
decided
to
hike
the
rim,
but
in
the
safer
parts.
This
is
something
every
reader
needs
to
know:
you
can
enjoy
the
lake,
and
even
the
rim
hike,
without
doing
the
dangerous
parts.
There
are
plenty
of
wide
areas
you
can
walk
around
the
rim
without
any
significant
risk
of
falling
off.
In
fact,
if
you
are
afraid
of
heights,
you
might
want
to
avoid
any
of
the
areas
that
trigger
your
fears.
In
my
case,
I
faced
some
fears
with
this
hike.
It
was
liberating.
The
rest
of
the
evening
we
celebrated,
talking
with
Fausto,
enjoying
Marlo’s
great
food
along
with
a
couple
of
Pilseners,
and
reminiscing
about
the
hike.
Fausto
informed
us
of
his
friend’s
new
Cafeteria
de
Quilotoa
that
was
opening
up
and
would
serve
great
homemade
traditional
meals.
For
reservations,
contact
Isabel
Pastuña
at
095-­‐900-­‐5519.
September
23,
2013:
walking
from
Quilotoa
to
Chugchilán
Peggy
had
to
get
back
to
Cuenca,
but
Nate
and
I
would
stay
another
week.
Chugchilán
is
a
village
of
only
80
people
with
an
elevation
of
1,988
feet
or
3,200
kilometers.
We
realized
it’d
be
torture
to
walk
the
extreme
uphill
and
downhill
with
our
backpacks,
so
we
paid
$40
for
a
driver
to
take
us
the
seven
miles
(11
kilometers)
where
we
left
our
backpacks
at
Black
Sheep
Inn
and
then
rode
back
to
Quilotoa.
You
read
that
right:
$40.
The
prices
for
private
drivers
are
very
steep
in
this
land
in
which
buses
come
only
once
a
day
and
taxis
are
nonexistent.
But
we
saved
our
backs.
One
of
the
keys
to
containing
costs
is
to
ask
what
other
adventurers
are
up
to,
and
sharing
some
of
the
costs
of
hiring
drivers
and
guides.
Needless
to
say,
the
poor
locals
can’t
afford
these
drivers.
Usually
they
walk,
take
a
horse,
or
wait
for
the
bus.

25. 25
The
walk
took
five
hours.
Five
hours
to
walk
seven
miles?
you
ask.
And
without
the
weight
of
a
backpack?
Yes,
it
was
a
very
extreme
downhill
(660
feet
or
182
meters)
and
then
back
up
(1,200
feet
or
366
meters).
The
downhill
was
so
dusty
that
I
had
to
go
very
slowly
due
to
the
slipperiness
and
my
disgust
for
falling.
I
felt
as
though
I
could’ve
skied
down
the
hill—that’s
how
slick
it
was.
It
helped
to
take
a
wide
stance,
avoiding
the
inner
dusty
part
of
the
trail
that
was
most
traveled.
If
this
doesn’t
appeal
to
you,
you
can
take
a
horse
for
$15
(four
hours),
the
bus,
or
a
private
driver.
The
hot
sun
was
exhausting
me
while
it
energized
Nate.
People
complain
about
the
cloudiness
in
Ecuador;
I
pray
for
clouds!
When
you’re
on
the
equator,
the
sun
is
very
intense.
But
the
scenery
was
worth
it.
We
had
a
map
courtesy
of
the
Black
Sheep
Inn,
which
provided
detailed
maps
for
the
main
local
hikes.
Along
the
way
we
passed
some
indigenous
people
planting
crops
of
lentils,
and
a
couple
of
tourists
from
Europe.
After
five
hours
of
walking
seven
miles
we
were
delighted
to
return
to
the
Black
Sheep
Inn,
a
famous
eco-­‐lodge.
Their
website
is
http://www.blacksheepinn.com/
.
Here
are
some
of
the
impressive
awards
this
inn
has
on
its
resumé:
World’s
Best
Hotels
-­‐
South
America
STAY
LIST
-­‐
National
Geographic
Traveler
2011
Top
10
Eco-­‐Resort
-­‐
Delta
SKY
Magazine
2009
Top
50
Eco-­‐Lodges
-­‐
National
Geographic
Adventure
Magazine
2009
Winner,
ECOCLUB.com
Ecotourism
Awards
2006
&
2008
Skål
International
Ecotourism
Award
2006
Smithsonian
Magazine/Tourism
Cares
for
Tomorrow
Sustainable
Tourism
Award
2005
Black
Sheep
Inn

26. 26
The
activities
available
include
the
following:
day
hikes,
horseback
riding,
sauna
and
hot
tub,
mountain
biking,
indigenous
markets,
and
local
workshop
tours.
They
also
have
Frisbee
golf
on
the
property—which
includes
nine
holes
(actually
baskets)
with
some
pretty
steep
climbing.
Black
Sheep
Inn
claims
this
is
the
highest
Frisbee
golf
course
in
the
world.
Also
on
the
property
is
a
volleyball
court
and
horseshoes,
darts,
a
small
gym,
and
a
small
zipline.
Massages
are
offered
as
is
laundry
service.
There
is
wifi
and
a
book
exchange
area
which
includes
board
games.
And
of
course,
there
are
a
couple
of
real
live
black
sheep.
I
loved
the
fact
that
they
had
a
yoga
studio
where
I
could
do
my
30-­‐minute
routine
on
a
mat
instead
of
the
hard
floor
of
a
hotel
or
the
often
uneven
terrain
of
the
grass.
(But
I
also
loved
doing
yoga
in
front
of
my
hotel
room,
which
had
one
of
the
grandest
views
I’d
ever
seen
of
Ecuador.)
Frisbee
golf
at
Black
Sheep
Inn
The
eco-­‐lodge
donates
a
percentage
of
profits
to
the
local
community
and
also
provides
eco-­‐education.
An
American
couple
began
the
lodge
in
the
mid-­‐1990s.
They
loved
the
area
so
much
that
they
bought
some
land
which
evolved
into
this
eco-­‐lodge,
but
after
some
time
they
grew
weary
of
all
the
work
and
tried
to
sell
it.
When
that
didn’t
work
out,
they
simply
took
a
year
off
(which
is
why
it
wasn’t
listed
in
the
Lonely
Planet
one
year).

27. 27
Then
they
hired
Edmundo
Vega
to
run
the
lodge.
Edmundo
has
been
working
there
for
16
months
and
is
very
qualified
since
he
had
a
lot
of
experience
working
in
the
Marriott
Hotel
in
Quito
(which
also
has
ecological
aspects,
according
to
him).
He
spends
two
weeks
out
of
every
month
in
Quito
with
his
wife,
and
two
young
children,
while
spending
the
other
two
weeks
at
the
inn.
He’s
been
a
hiker
all
his
life
and
continues
to
walk
at
least
three
times
a
week.
“I
adore
walking,”
he
says.
Edmundo
and
family
The
inn
serves
50%
of
its
food
organic,
and
100%
is
vegetarian
food,
as
this
is
known
to
be
the
most
sustainable.
(I
would
argue
that
this
wouldn’t
apply
in
this
under-­‐populated
region
filled
with
cattle,
sheep,
etc.
and
if
you
are
familiar
with
my
book
Beyond
Broccoli,
you
know
my
arguments
against
vegetarianism
for
the
masses!)
Edmundo
swears
by
the
vegetarian
diet.
He
weighed
210
pounds
while
eating
meat
twice
a
day,
with
frequent
headaches
and
foot
problems.
He
was
taking
three
ibuprofen
pills
per
day!
Now
he
radiates
health
at
175
pounds,
having
lost
35
lbs.
The
Black
Sheep
Inn
(BSI)
is
famous
for
its
compost
toilets.
There’s
often
a
shortage
of
water
in
the
mountains,
so
why
should
it
be
wasted
on
flushing
water
down
the
toilet?
I
noted
that
there
was
no
foul
smell
with
the
compost
toilets
as
one
might
expect,
based
on
experience
with
outhouses.
This
is
because
after
one
uses
the
toilet,
he
“flushes”
with
a
small
shovel
full
of
dry
stuff
consisting
of
sawdust
leaves
and
pods
from
cultivated
lupine
(chochos).
The
feces
and
urine
contain
high
amounts
of
nitrogen

28. 28
while
the
“flush”
is
high
in
carbon.
The
ideal
ratio
is
30
parts
carbon
to
one
part
nitrogen,
which
means
ideally
one
uses
a
lot
of
this
flush.
Then
the
entire
toilet
contents
can
be
recycled
as
fertilizer.
In
fact,
every
room
in
the
BSI
has
the
book
The
Toilet
Papers
by
Sim
Van
der
Ryn
conveniently
located
right
beside
the
toilet
as
bathroom
reading
material.
The
book
has
a
full
explanation
of
the
eco-­‐logic
behind
compost
toilets.
Every
room
has
a
wood
stove,
top
quality
Ecuadorian
orthopaedic
matresses,
thick
wool
blankets,
and
flannel
sheets.
The
Andes
can
get
pretty
cold
at
night,
but
all
of
these
nuances
make
it
feel
warm
and
cozy.
On
top
of
the
beds
are
little
stuffed
black
sheep.
Rooms
at
Black
Sheep
Inn
Rooms
run
$60
per
person
or
$80
per
person
with
a
private
bath.
There
is
a
dormitory
at
$35
per
person
for
the
budget-­‐conscious
who
wish
to
cut
expenses
by
staying
in
a
shared
room
which
includes
many
bunk
beds.
But
if
you
go
in
the
off-­‐season
months,
you
might
be
the
only
one
in
the
room,
at
least
for
a
night
or
two.
The
prices
include
breakfast,
a
sack
lunch
to
take
while
hiking,
and
dinner.
What’s
fun
is
that
at
breakfast
and
dinner
you
can
visit
with
the
other
guests,
often
people
from
all
over
the
world.
It
was
our
first
dinner
and
the
soup
was
especially
delicious.
Edmundo
shared
an
interesting
story:
60
years
ago
there
weren’t
any
local
inhabitants
in
the
Quilotoa
town,
but
there
was
one
gringo
called
“Richard”
who
lived
there.
He
was
a
100%
raw
foodist!
But
in
the
1940s
he
suddenly
disappeared.

29. 29
September
24,
2013:
Hiking
in
the
area
After
a
hearty
breakfast
of
homemade
granola,
fresh
juice,
and
eggs
to
order,
we
set
out
on
a
path
that
Edmundo
discovered
as
an
eight-­‐year-­‐old:
the
Skywalk
hike.
It
ended
up
being
about
three
miles
(4.8
kilometers),
but
took
us
two
hours
to
complete
due
to
all
the
hills.
Later
we
enjoyed
a
hot
tub
and
sauna,
going
back
and
forth
between
the
two.
We
topped
off
the
evening
with
another
delicious
vegetarian
dinner.
We
met
an
Indian
man
(Amitros)
living
in
Canada
who
just
began
staying
at
the
lodge
and
dined
with
him.
Since
he
was
the
only
one
there,
apart
from
us,
he
had
the
entire
dorm
to
himself.
We
agreed
to
go
hiking
with
him
the
next
day.
Me
doing
the
skywalk
hike
September
25,
2013:
Hiking
in
the
area
Nate,
Amitros,
and
I
hired
a
local
guide
named
Miguel
for
$20
to
walk
us
to
the
following
places:
the
cloud
forest,
the
cheese
factory,
and
the
waterfalls.
The
entire
hike
took
nearly
nine
hours,
though
it
was
only
12.5
miles
(20
kilometers).
We
were
so
happy
to
be
finished
with
the
hike
that
we
tipped
him
another
ten
dollars.
During
the
hike
we’d
pass
all
sorts
of
animals:
pigs
with
their
piglets,
sheep
and
ewes,
cows
with
their
calves,
donkeys,
and
horses.
Often
the
animals
would
be
tied
up.
We’d
also
pass
many
shacks
of
adobes
and
even
some
with
thatched
roofs.
Often
people
are
too
poor
to
buy
a
sign
for
their
business,
so
simply

30. 30
paint
on
the
outside
of
their
house
things
like
se
vende
(for
sale)
or
Vendemos
helados,
coca-­‐cola,
papas
fritas
(We
sell
ice
cream,
Coca-­‐Cola,
French
fries).
Dogs
are
(as
in
everywhere
in
Ecuador)
free
to
roam
around
just
like
they
did
in
the
US
before
the
strict
leash
laws.
Amitros
by
me,
and
Miguel,
all
hiking
into
the
cloud
forest
After
we
unwound
a
bit
with
yoga
and
a
beer,
it
was
on
to
another
great
dinner
with
what
I’d
consider
to
be
award-­‐winning
soup.
This
time
a
British
couple
also
joined
us.
September
26,
2013:
Hiking
from
Chugchilán
to
Isinliví
We’d
heard
that
Isinliví,
a
very
small
village
in
the
vicinity,
had
some
spectacular
views.
It’s
got
a
population
of
about
300
and
an
elevation
of
9,514
feet
or
2,900
meters.
But
we
knew
the
up
and
down
verticals
with
our
backpacks
would
be
too
much.
So
we
kept
most
of
our
stuff
at
the
BSI
while
we
took
the
basics
with
us.
We
hired
Miguel
to
be
our
guide,
but
instead
his
young
son
William
(age
18)
showed
up
to
take
us.
This
ended
up
being
the
most
grueling
hike
I’d
ever
experienced.
It
made
the
Quilotoa
Loop
seem
like
a
cakewalk.
The
hike
consisted
of
endless
ups
and
downs,
with
the
downs
most
scary
for
me—again,
dusty
slippery
trails.
It
was
like
walking
up
and
down
a
roller
coaster!
Yet
our
teen
guide,
who
had
the
cheapest
shoes
with
barely
any
track,
was
able
to
glide
up
and
down
the
hills
as
if
he
were
jet
skiing.
He
never,
ever
got
out
of
breath.
I
guess
being
raised
in
the
high
altitude,
and
not
having
money
for
drivers
and
horses
kept
this
young
lad
in
superb
shape.

31. 31
Part
of
the
hike
included
crossing
a
very
rickety
old
bridge.
We
insisted
that
the
paper
guide
warned
us
not
to
take
this
bridge
as
there
would
be
another
one
that
was
safer.
William
wasn’t
aware
of
the
alternate
bridge.
Me
on
the
rickety
old
bridge
At
one
point
the
ground
was
extremely
slippery
mud,
and
to
my
horror—I
fell.
My
pants,
poles,
and
hands
were
all
covered
in
mud.
Once
I
realized
I
wasn’t
hurt,
though,
I
laughed,
and
the
others
joined
in.
Nearing
the
end
we
could
see
the
village
and
let
our
young
guide
go.
When
I
handed
him
the
$20
plus
a
$5
tip,
seeing
the
glow
in
his
eyes
and
smile
on
his
face
made
the
hike
all
worthwhile.
It
was
like
handing
an
American
18-­‐year-­‐old
two
Ben
Franklins.
The
uphill
climb
at
the
end
was
tough
because
by
now
we
were
exhausted.
I
felt
like
a
little
old
lady
inching
along
with
her
canes
(in
my
case,
ski
poles).
The
hike
was
only
6.5
miles
(10.4
kilometers),
but
it
took
us
4.5
hours.
But
finally
we
arrived
at
our
destination:
The
Llullu
Llama
Hostel.
Eva,
the
owner,
was
in
Quito.
But
we
got
our
assigned
bedrooms
and
headed
out
to
the
town
where
I
checked
my
email
at
a
local
cabina.
The
connection
was
so
slow
that
all
I
did
was
check
the
subject
headings.
No
emergencies,
so
I
logged
off.
Nate
would
check
his
iPad
to
see
if
he
was
a
grandfather
yet.

32. 32
Me
at
the
Llullu
Llama
Hostel
After
I
got
back
to
the
main
drag
I
saw
what
looked
like
a
bum
sitting
on
the
curb
drinking
a
large
Pilsener.
But
no—it
wasn’t
a
homeless
hobo—it
was
Nate!
I
joined
him
and
we
purchased
snacks
from
the
owner
of
the
only
other
hostel
in
town
at
her
little
grocery
called
“Viveres
Tito.”
When
Nate
bought
a
couple
of
packs
of
greasy
potato
chips,
the
woman
was
appalled
that
he
wouldn’t
share
them
with
me
(when
actually
I
didn’t
want
any)
so
she’d
tease
him
about
that.
Finally
we
went
back
to
the
hostel
for
some
pre-­‐dinner
drinks.
The
guests
were
a
truly
global
bunch:
a
young
Chinese
couple
that
was
born
and
bred
in
Holland;
a
young
Chinese
woman
born
and
bred
in
Australia
(all
three
of
whom
were
fluent
in
Manadarin).
Then
there
were
a
couple
of
young
women
from
Britain,
and
Nate
and
I
who
were
Americans
who’d
immigrated
to
Ecuador.
We
all
had
a
great
chat
while
enjoying
the
delicious
food
prepared
by
Gladys,
the
chef
who
also
managed
the
hostel
in
Eva’s
absence.

33. 33
International
guests
dining
at
the
Llullu
Llama
Hostel
(me
at
far
left
and
Gladys
standing
in
the
background)
When
we
told
the
other
guests
about
our
tumultuous
hike,
they
responded,
“But
there
is
a
much
easier
one!
If
you
follow
the
river,
it’s
all
flat
except
for
the
final
uphill
part.”
The
hostel
offers
sheets
with
great
descriptions
for
hikes,
including
three
very
short
hikes
(30-­‐45
minutes
each);
one
short
hike
in
which
you
can
try
to
beat
the
record
(1
hour
30
minutes);
three
half-­‐
day
hikes
(three
to
four
hours
each);
three
full-­‐day
hikes
(four
to
six
hours
each);
and
three
one-­‐way
hikes
(four
to
six
hours
each).
We
grabbed
the
sheet
(a
one-­‐way
hike
lasting
four
to
six
hours)
that
would
take
us
back
to
Chugchilán,
where
we
planned
to
return
the
next
day.
This
place
also
had
compost
toilets—in
fact,
ones
with
a
great
view!
I
interviewed
Eva
by
email
since
she
was
in
Quito.
The
owners
are
Eva
Merkx
from
Holland
and
her
Ecuadorian
husband,
Cristian
Chala.
(They
have
two
daughters,
Yulia
and
Hanna.)
They
run
the
Hostel
Llullu
Llama
with
Gladys,
an
Ecuadorian
married
to
David.
(They
have
five
children.)
Eva
had
lived
in
Ecuador
ten
years
and
she
and
her
husband
Cristian
always
dreamt
of
having
a
hostel.
They
looked
at
various
places
in
Ecuador
and
last
December
2012
visited
Hostel
Llullu
Llama
and
just
fell
in
love
with
the
place.
The
hostel
had
already
been
running
for
several
years,
but
was
a
bit
run
down

34. 34
because
the
former
owner
did
not
really
want
to
continue
putting
time,
money
and
effort
in
making
the
place
work.
So
they
bought
it
in
January
2013
and
continue
to
renovate
the
place.
“We
are
now
constructing
four
garden
cottages
with
private
bathrooms
and
chimneys,”
says
Eva.
“And
we
are
also
building
a
spa
area
with
a
Turkish
sauna,
dry
sauna,
and
Jacuzzi
with
an
incredible
mountain
view!
We
hope
this
part
will
be
up
and
running
as
of
March
2014.
“Our
vision
is
to
create
a
beautiful
relaxing
place
where
hikers
and
nature
lovers
can
come
to
meet
other
travelers,
relax
and
enjoy
the
mountains
and
have
a
cozy
and
warm
place
to
sleep
on
their
mountain
adventure.
“At
the
same
time
we
want
to
set
up
a
community
fund
with
client
gifts
and
part
of
our
profits.
We
will
use
the
community
fund
for
small-­‐scale
development
projects
in
the
village
of
Isinliví
and
surrounding
communities.
At
the
moment,
we
are
still
in
the
set-­‐up
phase
of
this
funding
scheme
but
this
should
all
be
up
and
running
in
the
beginning
of
next
year.
By
the
end
of
next
year
we
are
planning
to
create
horseback
riding
tours
and
mountain
bike
tours
as
well
in
the
area.”
Most
of
the
guests
come
from
the
USA,
Switzerland,
Holland,
and
Germany.
September
27,
2013:
Hiking
from
Isinliví
back
to
Chugchilán
The
hike
from
yesterday
wore
me
out.
I
slept
ten
hours,
from
8:30
until
6:30,
the
most
I’d
been
able
to
sleep
the
past
11
nights.
Up
until
now,
I’d
either
lie
in
bed
and
not
sleep
till
3:00
AM,
or
I’d
sleep
at
first,
and
wake
up
around
2:00
AM,
unable
to
go
back
to
sleep.
Every
night
I
felt
lucky
if
I
got
three
or
four
hours
of
sleep,
while
resting
in
bed
awake
another
three
to
four
hours.
After
a
hearty
breakfast,
we
went
up
to
the
top
of
the
pre-­‐Inca
hill
near
the
hostel.
There
we
saw
one
of
the
most
captivating
views
of
Ecuador:
vast
hills
in
all
directions,
with
all
sorts
of
shades
of
green
patches
(some
from
farming).
What
amazed
me
was
the
huge
hill
directly
in
front
of
this
lookout
(mirador).
It
had
about
five
layers
of
levels,
each
with
paths,
some
with
roads,
and
dotted
with
grazing
cows
and
sheep,
as
well
as
small
adobe
houses.
The
level
right
below
had
a
small
house
with
a
farm
and
cows.
It
was
like
some
enchanting
storybook
picture—surreal,
breathtakingly
beautiful,
and
magical!

35. 35
Enjoying
the
view
from
the
pre-­‐Inca
hill
We
resolved
to
head
back
to
Chugchilán
as
there
was
going
to
be
a
festival
of
the
local
saint,
San
Miguel.
This
time,
however,
we
would
walk
by
the
river,
avoiding
the
roller
coaster
walk
except
for
the
unavoidable
steep
uphill
at
the
end.
First
we
had
to
load
up
on
water
and
snacks
at
“Viveres
Tito,”
where
the
delightful
owner
insisted
I
not
share
anything
with
Nate
since
he
wouldn’t
share
his
greasy
potato
chips
with
me!
As
we
walked
along
the
river,
we
stopped
about
halfway
for
a
lunch
break.
There
was
a
makeshift
bridge
that
we
crossed—it
wasn’t
too
high
up,
but
scary
enough
that
I
crawled
across
it.
However
as
we
rested
on
the
grass
we
laughed
as
we
saw
natives
scurry
over
it.
In
one
incident,
a
mother
had
a
baby
wrapped
on
her
back
while
holding
hands
with
her
three-­‐year-­‐old
as
they
quickly
walked
across
the
questionable
bridge.
In
another,
a
man
had
to
coax
his
reluctant
dog
to
cross
by
pushing
his
butt!
Though
rich
in
beautiful
sights,
these
people
were
cash
poor,
no
doubt.
One
even
asked
me
for
a
dollar
so
he
could
buy
pan
(bread).
Yet,
despite
their
poverty,
they
lived
among
scenic
views
which
–
were
they
in
a
large
city
in
California,
for
example—their
property
would
be
worth
millions
of
dollars.

36. 36
Tiochi
river
valley
on
the
way
back
to
Chugchilán
We
proceeded
to
walk
and
came
upon
a
second
bridge—this
one
was
the
best
of
the
three,
no
doubt,
but
nonetheless
required
keeping
your
hand
steadily
on
a
wire
while
crossing.
Finally
we
encountered
the
rickety
dangerous
one
we’d
crossed
the
day
before.
Often
we’d
pass
red
arrows
that
indicated
we
were
on
the
correct
path.
We’d
heard
a
rumor
that
sometimes
the
guides
would
take
down
the
signs
(as
they
don’t
want
the
hikes
to
be
marked,
so
they’ll
be
needed).
But
some
of
these
red
arrows
were
painted
on
rocks
or
trees,
reminding
me
of
the
yellow
arrows
used
to
indicate
El
Camino
de
Santiago
in
Spain,
which
I’d
trekked
earlier
this
year.
We
were
surprised
and
happy
to
see
a
little
store
along
the
way,
made
of
rustic
wood.
When
the
dogs
barked,
the
owner
came
out
and
sold
us
some
water
and
snacks.
We
came
to
the
last
part
of
the
hike
which
entailed
about
a
half
hour
or
so
of
what
Nate
called
“ball
busting”
uphill
climbing—followed
by
45
minutes
or
so
of
walking
to
the
town.
As
much
as
the
uphill
wore
me
out,
I
preferred
it
to
the
steep
downhill
of
the
dusty
slippery
slopes.
When
we
got
to
the
top,
two
small
boys
were
telling
us
they
had
a
mirador
or
lookout
with
a
view
by
their
house.
No
doubt
they
wanted
some
coins
in
exchange.
Nate,
however,
was
preoccupied
as
he
realized
he’d
left
a
battery
recharger
at
the
hostel.
I
gave
each
of
the
boys
a
bag
of
potato
chips
and
a
popcorn
ball
left
over
from
our
snacks.
Their
faces
lit
up
with
huge
smiles.
They
ran
to
show
their
parents
and
also
savored
the
pretty
bright
packaged
chips
by
playing
with
the
unopened
bags,
delighting
in
their
treasures
as
long
as
they
could
before
opening
them.

37. 37
Our
return
hike
was
8.21
miles
(13
kilometers)
lasting
about
seven
hours,
from
9:20
from
4:00
(with
a
45-­‐minute
break
by
the
river).
It
was
a
bit
longer
than
William’s
roller
coaster
hike,
but
much,
much
easier
since
most
of
it
was
flat.
When
we
went
to
get
our
backpack
at
the
Black
Sheep
Inn,
Edmundo
informed
us
that
there
had
been
a
contest
that
day
among
the
village
boys
to
see
who
could
walk
the
fastest
from
Quilotoa
to
Chugchilán.
Recall
that
on
September
23
that
same
walk
had
taken
Nate
and
me
five
hours
to
walk
seven
miles.
Somehow
William,
our
18-­‐year-­‐old
guide,
had
accomplished
the
walk
in
one
hour,
even
with
a
backpack
of
25
pounds!
I
am
sure
he
must
have
known
some
short
cuts
to
make
it
less
than
seven
miles.
And
of
course,
he
ran
it
instead
of
walking.
But
still!
He
won
the
prize
of
$70.
The
guy
who
came
in
second
did
it
in
an
hour
and
ten
minutes.
We
stayed
at
the
Cloud
Forest
Inn,
paying
$15
each
for
private
rooms
with
their
own
bathrooms
(a
real
luxury).
The
fee
included
breakfast
and
dinner.
Another
option,
Mama
Hilda’s,
was
full
because
of
the
festival.
September
28,
2013:
Enjoying
the
festival
at
Chugchilán
We
deserved
a
break
from
intense
hiking,
but
nonetheless
trekked
a
rim
in
a
horseshoe
shape
that
entailed
very
steep
uphill
and
downhill.
At
least
it
was
only
an
hour
hike,
making
it
a
relative
“day
off.”
The
local
festival
began
at
11:00
AM.
There
was
folkloric
music
and
dancing
in
the
town
square.
People
in
costumes
(clowns,
and
men
dressed
as
women)
came
hopping
and
skipping
in.
Local
girl
in
traditional
costume
Later
in
the
early
evening
there
was
a
bullfight
with
a
baby
bull.
Of
course
no
one
got
hurt,
and
it
was
all
for
show.
But
later
when
they
set
an
adolescent
bull
in
the
ring,
everyone
cleared
out!
A
poor
dog
got
bumped
by
the
bull
and
quickly
ran
out
of
the
ring.
There
was
a
pole
that
contained
many
prizes
(food
and
bottles
of
alcohol)
at
the
top.
The
pole
was
made
a
bit
slippery
and
the
winner,
whoever
could
get
to
the
top,
would
take
home
all
the
loot.
“Stadium
seats”
took
on
a
new
meaning
as
many
of
the
spectators
sat
in
makeshift
“seats”
up
on
the
hills.
I
am
reminded
of
how
Ecuador
is
cited
in
many
books
about
longevity—of
which
I
have
an
entire