“My favorite part about fishing is standing around near water. I’m perfectly happy not catching anything, provided I’m not in the midst of starving.” – Old Sean
Deep Mountain Tours
I am now in my final month of Ecuador, and making a strong effort to lance out and explore the last few places in my immediate vicinity.
Unfortunately, the Andes mountains rarely lend themselves to “immediate vicinity.” While there are some areas of interest scattered about, most places take a good couple of hours to reach by car and even longer by bus.
My first long distance trip out of Cuenca took me through a series of small towns gradually rising up into the mountains. The central valley of Ecuador (and portions of Colombia and Peru) is sort of a de-facto funnel, which keeps communities along the main north-to-south roads. The result is a near endless number of small-spread-out towns merging into one another and the steep countryside seamlessly.
This particular trip came with my travel companion Cari and her family, as we wandered to her grandparent’s farm, a mountain community outside of San Gerardo.
An odd sort of trip, we parked the car at the foot of some dirt roads before lurching upwards towards the house. Sheep and cows spend their time at odd angles, grazing on vividly green grass on the hillside. Horses, sturdy and wily, often escape their pens and trot up and down the road, often nickering and toying with humans that jog lightly after them.
Like much of the Andes Highlands, the air was crisp and cool with clouds being herded between peaks. Since the highlands are sturdy stone with lots of craters and canyons, the ground is often wet and spongey with ponds and thin streams appearing everywhere.
Sky Ponds
This was especially true when we reached our destination, a large log cabin crammed with fishing rods, saddles, and enough machetes to be suspicious anywhere else in the world. This cabin was perched on a wide, still lake which was in turn, perched on a mountain cliff. A rickety dock tilted into the water and everyone was granted a fishing rod with instructions to fetch lunch.
There’s something to be said when fishing in a pond higher than most mountain hikes. I’m no expert angler, but these fish struck me as easy picking. I was able to catch three in the hour and the whole group totaled fourteen caught, two per person. There don’t appear to be many natural predators that high up and the only other waterborne animals I spotted where oddly colored geese which stuck close to the creek rather than the pond.
I suppose a life of mountain pond luxury on private land would make anyone extra willing to nibble raw dough on a hook with a woodchip for a bobber.
Laguna Busa
Once fishing was done and lunch was severed, my tiny group bundled back into vehicles and followed a few overtly friendly dogs back down the mountains. Our next stop was Laguna Busa, a large sitting lake that doubles as a sort of midland tourist attraction for family recreation.
Laguna Busa is very pretty lake resting in the shadow of a rather imposing mountain with deep clouds drifting overhead. This area reminded me of nothing so much as the tourism lakes I fondly remember from China. People rent peddle-boats in the shape of swans to navigate the still waters and a few restaurants follow the rim of the park for snacks and other quick foods.
Horses and ponies, prepped for safe and easy children rides plod along the sides of the lakes and playgrounds are tucked in every flat space available. Llamas dutifully pose for photos before returning to their munching.
There are also a few areas that are set aside for camping, and colorful tents are propped up, with low fires working on meats and marshmallows alike. A fair portion of the trail goes over reeds and low marshes, necessitating long, geometric boardwalks and the occasional lookout tower.
Trippy Waterfall
It was at this point we next drove to Giron Waterfall where most of our group stayed in the car to rest. However, I got to forge onward, paying a couple of dollars for a ticket to see the local waterfall. I should mention that between Costa Rica, Belize, and Ecuador, I’ve seen a lot of waterfalls in my recent life. While they’re always beautiful and serene to see, my sense of majesty when being confronted by one has gradually dimmed, though I think it’s still a nice hike.
The hike itself was fairly intense, with a lot of switchbacks and stone steps making use of dirt and roots for additional support. The area ahead was more of a photo op than anything else, but still pretty cool to see.
The first option for entertainment was a thin, four cable bridge arcing across a gorge of greenery. Most people chose to follow the sturdy mountain trail that looped across, but I was excited to give it a shot. The bridge turned out to be far more difficult that I was expecting, and I needed to hook and unhook my harness at several intervals (safely, I was always anchored) to get across. The entire bridge tilted precariously when weight was put on the inner cable (facing the mountain) and the upper cables were a little too loose to work as proper weight-bearing anchors. Footing was problematic and I fell once caught by my ready arms. The guide tried to rush out to me (since I did the whole thing solo) but I waved him back, wobbled back up and managed to entirely skip the offending step.
It was fun.
We next went up to the waterfall, which was an impressive thunder of wide white hammering down on a stone face speckled with stubborn greenery. The air caught the spray of the water, caking people in a frosty brush of liquid. The ground was ridiculously slippery and most of my attention was spent trying not to faceplant.
Gradual Lowlander
We descended the mountain, following another steep trail and settled breifly in a restaurant to order some horchata tea (local herbs blended and discovered in Loja, which provides the water a resolutely deep pink color).
Luck managed to strike then, and the small plaza near the parking lot started a traditional dancing show. Women wore long skirts and highland tops that spun out in great arcs as they twirled while men had odd hats and pants with shaggy fur like a buffalo that rustled and waved as they stomped about.
We finally started to drive back, stopping briefly at a large chocolate shop for an odd bowl of some sort of potatoe, chicken and beef bowls that effectively filled me up for the next few days.
After returning to Cuenca, I had a full week of a normal schedule. I took my Spanish classes, studied at the library, whined at the gym and wandered around the downtown area to make sure I hadn’t missed any other interesting attractions.
Since it’s my last month in town, I’ll be making a concentrated effort to explore the surrounding lands further.
Until then,
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written October 5th 2021
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Skog Å Kust Watertight Day Bag
Everyone should have a day bag. My favorite is the Skog Å Kust Watertight Bag. It’s easy to sling over my shoulders and lets me walk without fear of m devices getting damaged in the rain. Better yet, I can go swimming with electronics whenever I need to.
