23 to 25 May Kms
travelled – 15,424
Ah, Ecuador – what a
wonderful place. Yet another on the list
that offers so much and places where I have to tear myself away from. If I had known of the riches (in bike parts
and workshop terms) that Loja offered – coupled with the local prices being the
cheapest I´ve encountered to date – I would have scheduled more time here. But as it was Idris was on top form, and I
wasn´t doing too bad either, so time to move on.
I had taken a leaf
out of Sam Manicom´s book (Distant Suns
I think, if my memory has not completely failed me – and if you´ve not yet had
the pleasure I can heartily recommend his stuff – see the weblink on the right). Sam suffered some issues with his back while
on his travels, and took to riding less and walking more as a means of managing
the problem. I have to say it works a
treat – thanks Sam! I´ve been rarely
riding for more than half a day since my back started playing up in Argentina /
Chile, then taking time out to walk for a few hours in the late afternoon. It also has the benefit of enabling me to see
more of my chosen overnight location, and to engage a bit more with local
people. And I was planning to do yet
more walking, as we headed from Loja to the wonderful city of Cuenca.
But we were following
my satnav and after about 12 kms the road deteriorated into a mud bath with
scatterings of dry dirt. Surely this
couldn´t be the fabled Pan American highway?
After getting Idris well and truly muddy I stopped to ask a local about
the route to Cuenca... “ah yes, this is
the road to Cuenca, you can go this way no problems... but most people take the other road over
there these days!” Seems I was on the
Pan Am, but a 20km stretch that had been superseded some time ago by a
separate, cleaner and easier route. Hey
ho!
When back on the
newer bit, the road did offer some challenges such as landslides and animals,
but the biggest issue for me this day was that the road was made of
cement. You know the ones... like someone has laid a surface with a design
based on bars of chocolate. It seemed as
if every second the road would give a little thump through the suspension as
Idris skipped over another block of hard stuff.
After an hour or so, the routine vibration was threatening to bring back
the pain that the revised riding style, twisty bits and walking had, to date,
eased. But I wasn´t going to stop. Each bend presented another spectacular
scene; up and down the greenest of valleys and through the small towns you find
scattered along the way. Bliss. I had visions of the Pan American being this
potted, slow, truck-fume ridden nightmare of a road – to be avoided at all
costs. But truly, there are stretches of
it where you see little traffic as it steers you through the most wondrous
landscapes. I´m sure the other vision of
it exists too, but not in lovely Ecuador.
Here it took us up
through mountain passes at around 3,500m, where the road curiously ran along
the mountain ridge between valleys (with some interesting wind blasts from
either side) and the opportunity to again look down on blankets of cloud – as
if someone had nestled in a mass of cotton wool between the high peaks to help
protect the land from harm.
When Cuenca arrived,
however, I was ready to stop; and stop I did at a recommended hostel (La Casa
Cuencana) for a couple of nights at a very reasonable price. Then the tourist thing began. So much to see in this lovely city – and it
seemed that the people were built to match the buildings. And no, I don´t mean all stone-faced and
square! A very touristic spot, but yet
the volume of smiles and the warmth of the welcome was so notable it surely
extends beyond the motivation of the tourist dollar and into the realms of the
local character. I knew wandering around
the next day that this was to be yet another place Idris would have to drag me
out of kicking and screaming.
And it was time to
go; a couple of nights pass so quickly.
I had a curious ride as I headed further north in the direction of Quito,
Ecuador´s capital. I couldn´t really put
my finger on it, I was feeling good and the ride went well. In fact I went further than originally
planned. Nevertheless, I was carrying an
unsettled emotion.
The road from Cusco
was an easy run. First three lanes, into
two, then one as the road rolled again through green valleys and small towns,
as it had a little further south two days before. On reaching some greater altitude though, I
ran into a cloud white-out. A no more
appropriate term could be written to describe what we hit. At one stage I was even in first gear
following the road by means of looking at the white line on the floor beside me
marking the edge of the tarmac; praying that there were no landslides ahead (as
there had been a number to date blocking at least a third of the road). I could not see beyond the front of the bike,
and was fearful of stopping lest any vehicles behind... well, didn´t! This carried on in various densities for
around 20 kms. But on the rare occasion
that there was a brief gap in the cloud I saw, only for a split second, a sight
that scared me more. I was riding a
narrow two lane road that was perched on the side of the most incredible sheer
drop with no barrier. I´ve no idea how
far down it was, but the mere thought of it gave Idris a little wobble!
Before I could really
start to worry though, we were round the bend into another valley where there
was clear sky and no fall. As quickly as
the cloud had hit, it was gone again... well almost. The effect of the wind blowing the cloud from
the one deep valley into the other higher plain, however, provided a most
unusual effect. I wasn´t able to capture
it well on camera (my lack of skills in that department again showing), but
imagine a jet of steam shooting out as from a boiling kettle, and then magnify
that and place it on a grassy ridge rising into the clear blue sky. The things I´ve seen on this trip so far –
and it continues!
The new valley was
not only clear, but also considerably warmer.
And this was to continue in the run towards – and passed Ambató. I was planning to stop in Baños by the lake,
but decided to continue as I had made better time than I had thought and was
feeling good. Nor did I fancy the
alternative of staying at Ambató, one of the few towns in Ecuador that didn´t
inspire. I ended the day at a town some
100kms south of Quito, at a nice little hotel on the main square. A place which I struggle to remember the name
of (I know I have it noted somewhere, but strangely not in my day book). What I do recall, however, is the town had an
hourly siren which sounded so much like a motorGP bike revving up to the max,
that on first hearing I thought there was street racing taking place and ran
out of the hotel to watch. Luckily they
stopped making the crazy noise at 8pm - and I walked some more.
Thought for the day
I mention earlier
that I was carrying with me a strange emotion, and that I was finding it harder
to pull myself away from places – particularly where there was warmth of
welcome, or where I knew my wife would have enjoyed. I am beginning to realise that this is a
feeling of loneliness, something that was bound to happen to a guy who has been
so blessed with friends and (particularly) family – and who is travelling alone
for an extended period. Skype calls home
make a huge difference in relieving moments such as these. But what of those people of the world, some
of whom I have seen as I race by, who are habitually alone – including
kids. It makes me want to do more and
step up my fundraising for Unicef -
including when I return. If it feels
like this when I have so much – what does it feel like for those who have so
little?
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