Chimborazo, and Other High Places . . .

San Miguel de Salcedo – Riobamba, Colombia

I don’t want to brag or anything, but today we climbed a peak that is higher than Mt. Everest. It wasn’t like it was easy. But we did it, and we lived to tell the story . . .

So – little known fact: because Chimborazo is basically at the equator, where I guess the Earth bulges out, Chimborazo is closer to the sun than Everest, at least as measured from the center of the planet. Now, we didn’t climb all the way to the top of Chimborazo – we were about 1,000 meters below the peak. But Chimborazo is 2,160 meters “higher” (closer to the sun) than Everest – which means we were over 1,000 meters (2,160 less 1,000)  “higher” than Everest. 

And, you know what? That’s good enough for us. We are both checking the box for climb-to-highest-point-on-earth off of our bucket lists . . .

We climbed to about 17,000 feet – where we saw two muddy puddles – one of which is named Condor Cocha. I guess Cocha means pond. Seems like a stretch to me. Out in New England they call their lakes ponds – as in On Golden Pond. If I was a New Englander I think I would be pretty upset about this – the diminution of the word pond. Maybe write the Ecuadorian government? 

Anyway, we saw our first snow of the year, I made my first snowball, and I even did some sledding. 

I will say this, though: I think we are pretty much done with this high elevation stuff. 

Umm, you can’t really breathe up there. 

Talking takes effort – let alone trudging up the mountain. Even 12,000 feet – the high point of our ride yesterday – was brutal. 

It’s funny. The biking itself is not that bad. I guess you just naturally adjust your pedaling cadence to the amount of oxygen available. I think by the time we finished “adjusting,” we were going about 2 miles per hour . . . But when you stop – my goodness – you are out of breath immediately. 

Going pee is an anaerobic activity at 12,000 feet . . . I mean, for a 55 year old guy it takes some effort to get the flow going . . . You might not notice it much at sea level – but up on these mountains it takes a near heart attack effort . . .

I guess I skipped right to the top of the mountain . . . As if it was easy and uneventful to get there . . .

It wasn’t.

Let’s go back to yesterday morning. It was not a great beginning. 

We head out and it starts spitting rain. Which would be fine – except we’re in the mountains so it’s pretty darn cold. I mean, I don’t mind getting wet if it’s 80 degrees. But get wet at 50 to 60, and throw in a little wide open mountain wind, and you can be hypothermic very quickly. 

It would be one thing if we had multiple changes of clothes. Which leads me to a little back story . . .

We used to bring the kids to the Boundary Waters in northern Minnesota every summer. Years ago – when Lauren, our youngest, was probably three – we were camping on a rainy day. It’s hard to stay in the tent all day – especially when you’re three. I mean, we can only read The Cat in the Hat so many times. 

Lauren kept going out – I guess to see if it was still wet and rainy – and then coming right back in. Not surprisingly, each time she would go out she would get all wet – so when she came back in she would change all of her clothes. After about 45 minutes everything she had was wet – and that’s when the day really went downhill . . . because wet, cold three-year-olds aren’t very fun . . .

Okay – back to the start of our ride. I’m not three (although Dr. Liu wonders about that sometimes . . .), and I don’t have multiple changes of clothes. So I’m trying to keep my stuff dry, but the ever-changing mountain weather is not cooperating. The result:

• We start out from the hotel for about 30 seconds.
• I stop to put my raincoat on.
• We ride for about 30 more seconds until I see a panadería (bakery) and I call a stop for provisions because you don’t want to be up on a mountain with nothing to eat . . .
• We get back on our bikes and ride for about a minute until we start going up a hill (in my defense, these are BIG hills). I stop to take my jacket off because now I’m getting wet from the inside. Better to have some light rain without the raincoat than become all sweaty and clammy.
• We ride about two minutes and I stop again because now it’s really raining and, with this much rain, I would rather be sweaty than completely soaked . . .
• Then, take the raincoat off one last time – because the “real” rain lasted about 30 seconds.
• Oh, and one more stop, because now the sun is too strong and I need sun screen . . . 

By this time – about one mile and 45 minutes into our day – Diana’s eye rolling has become so severe I thought she was going to pull a muscle in her optical socket . . .

But we finally do get going and we bike about ten up-and-down miles without too much trouble. It was at this point that Google Maps and Organic Maps both said to take the left path where the highway splits (like choosing between 35W and 35E if you’re in Burnsville heading to Duluth. They both come back together north of the cities – but I never know which one is better . . .). Not having anything else to go on, we stick with the recommended route – to the left – a la izquierda.

Sadly, that route, while about the same distance, ends up taking us down – and then back up – about 1,500’. Doesn’t really matter in a car – but not the ideal path with a loaded bike . . . 

Later we see that the “right” path stayed up high the whole time. So sad. 

But the worst part about the left-hand route was a staple. A big, industrial staple somehow found its way through Diana’s tire as she was descending the hill. We can’t complain too much because this is the first flat we’ve had in about 1,500 miles – ever since we changed out our tires in Cartagena. But I was a little panicked when I reached the bottom of the hill and Diana wasn’t behind me. 

I looked at my phone and saw that she had already texted me that she had a flat. Not good. I was envisioning having to bike all the way back up to the top to change her tire. Ugh. Because, by the way, now that I’m 1,500’ down it’s also super hot. (The mountains can just never make up their mind). 

Fortunately, while Diana picked up the staple near the top, she was smart enough not to stop immediately. She nursed her tire all the way down and it turned out she was only about a kilometer back – and not even really up at all . . .

Regardless, though, we wasted a bunch more time dealing with this mechanical . . . 

So now it’s hot, it’s later in the day, we have to do an extra 1,500’ of vertical to get back up out of this hole we biked into, and we still have the big climb – up to 12,000’ – well ahead of us. 

And, of course, it’s late enough that now I have to stop and eat as well. (As noted, previously, Diana runs on nuclear power so she never has to stop.) By the time we’re done with lunch, it truly is late . . .

We end up rolling in to Riobamba at about 5:30. It’s all good – but let me just tell you that even Diana is hungry by this time in the day. Just not ideal . . . So you can see why – when you combine yesterday with our “off” day today – we’re pretty wiped out – and really starting to be ready to be done with the mountains. 

Did I mention it’s rarely warm up here? Doesn’t really bother me, but Diana doesn’t exactly have a lot of body fat and she’s complaining about every five minutes that she’s cold . . .

Okay – don’t ask me why, if we’re worried about the elevation, we spent our off day on a tour of Chimborazo. But we’re here – and it just seemed like the right thing to do . . . (Once we were up there we saw that there is a mountain bike trail you can take from the Chimborazo “base camp” area down a ways. That looks fun. Biking with the llamas . . .)

Several more random things to mention . . .

Chocolate milkshake. 

After yesterday’s ride I’m doing whatever I can to replace some calories. After dinner we see a helados (ice cream) place and I order a chocolate milk shake. After a few minutes they return and hand me . . . a strawberry milk shake. Not a huge deal, but I would rather have what I ordered. So when I go to pay, I’m trying to explain to the guy that I wanted a chocolate shake. He asks if I want a hot chocolate. After a little bit more back and forth, I give up and we’re heading out with the strawberry milkshake. 

Whatever. 

But there’s a guy sitting in the back of the helados place with his wife and kids, and he yells out: “Did you want something else?” 

It turns out he knows English because he works as an equipment operator in New York. He has the winters off and returns to Ecuador to be with his family. Super nice guy. 

He quizzes me on what I want and then has a lengthy discussion with the proprietor – who then heads back to the kitchen to explain to his staff that I didn’t want a strawberry milkshake. 

A minute later he returns . . . With something resembling hot chocolate – only luke warm and with a straw. No ice cream at all.

I don’t have the heart to keep fighting this battle . . . 

Still not sure exactly what happened there – but my sense is that chocolate milkshakes are just not a thing in Ecuador. Maybe they just have so many fruits in such abundance that no one even thinks of using anything else . . . 

I don’t know. But the upshot was that I was up eating peanuts at 2 a.m. last night because I was hungry and, at 9,000’, I’m an incredibly light sleeper . . .

The Big Election. 

It’s crazy how much election stuff is happening here. Billboards and signs everywhere. We happened upon at least three different political rallies yesterday. They say that the current guy – Daniel Naboa – is a shoe-in in the prefecture (state) of Chimborazo – but the biggest challenger – Luisa – seems to be everywhere. (Just now Diana and I went out to grab dinner only to be greeted with about a 2-mile long honking parade for her.) 

We’re actually a little nervous for Sunday and Monday. If Naboa wins – and we’ve been told that he will do well – I could see Luisa people getting pretty upset. And our friend Mark says he heard that the borders are supposed to be closed this weekend – I’m guessing because of the election – although I don’t really see the logic in that . . .

We’ll see . . . 

Justin and Marcia.

We’re walking along on our way back to the hotel after Chimborazo when the two people ahead of us start talking to us. Justin is 15 and a student at the local school, where he takes English. We mistake the other person for another student until Justin tells us that she is his Mom. People definitely seem to have kids early here. 

I guess Mom takes the bus in to pick up Justin every day. It’s about a half-hour bus ride to their house – so a lot of dedication. 

Justin is a bit hesitant on his English at first, but once we start talking he picks up confidence and he is quite accomplished. He’s hoping to go to college in a few years and he would like to visit the United States. Both Mom and Justin are engaging and fun. Love meeting people like them!

All in all, we have really enjoyed. Riobamba. Super nice town with a ton of energy. Tomorrow is another almost-12,000’-peak day. Ecuador and the Avenue of the Volcanoes is relentless . . . Oh, and Diana – who, in addition to her medical expertise is an amateur meteoroligical expert – reports that there is supposed to be a bunch of rain . . .

One other thing . . .

Calling All St. Paul Folks . . .

Okay – complicated story – and another example of the impact our new president is having on the world. 

Two of our friends and readers, Kang Y and John M, live in Tanzania. They are friends with a couple – Jason and Christa – that has been working for USAID. Yesterday they received a letter informing them that their jobs have been terminated and they have 30 days to leave Tanzania. They had already been thinking about moving to St. Paul – but obviously now they need to move quickly. 

They have two young children and want to enroll the kids at Expo/Harriet Bishop Center. I guess there is only like one spot left, but they can’t secure the spot until they have an in-district address. And that’s where our St. Paul readers come in. They are hoping someone can let them use an address to receive mail for a month or two – until they can find their own place. As I understand it the school district is east of Fairview and south of Randolph. I don’t know the other side of the river too well – so I leave it to you Capital city folks to figure this out . . .

But if you can help, or you have ideas for them, please contact them directly at jasonmichaelko@gmail.com.