Rainy Season

Alausi – Chunchi, Ecuador

From the perspective of Minnesota, maybe these places all seem the same. Colombia, Ecuador, Peru – all South American countries where it’s hot and jungle-y. 

Then you get here. 

And you figure out that, like various parts of the United States, these countries have all kinds of micro climates. The coastal areas in Colombia – super hot, humid and green. The mountain areas of Colombia, at least while we were there – kind of a perfect climate, really. Temperate. Dry. Sunny. Nice. The Amazon – we haven’t been there yet, but my sense is that they’ll be pretty similar to the hot, humid and green of the Colombian coast. 

The mountains of Ecuador? Well, if you arrive in the rainy season – like we did – you can expect cloudy and cool – at least in the north – up by Quito. But, as we’re discovering, there seems to be a whole other micro climate south of Riobamba and north of Cuenca. 

Foggy. Cold. Rainy. Very green. Did I mention foggy, cold and rainy? 

I mean fog is kind of fun if, like yesterday, you hit it at the end of the day for your final descent into town. But when the fog goes on and on – like today – that’s another story. 

I think – I believe, I really do – that the area that we biked through today is very beautiful. I can imagine the green of Ireland, but with much more dramatic mountains. But, alas, this is mostly in our imaginations. Because, most of the day was shrouded in mist. 

Never been through a whole section of the world that is so foggy. Duluth can be foggy. I lived in Duluth in the 90s. I remember heading out on my bike or rollerskis and it would be foggy and 50 – but then you would reach this magic line a few miles out of town and all of a sudden it would be sunny and 80. 

Sadly, we haven’t found that line here. 

We did have about a half hour of sunny. And it was incredibly beautiful. That lush green that you only find in Spring, or in places like Ireland. But with big, dramatic mountain landscapes. 

The rest of the day was all up and down in the clouds. It was a little disorienting, really. Diana’s Wahoo-thing tells us the elevations, and, according to the Wahoo, we went more down than up, but I would have guessed the opposite. 

We didn’t go far. Around 25 miles – with about 3,000’ of climbing. But the next hotel isn’t for another 35 miles or so; more important, the next hotel isn’t for another 7,000’-8,000’ of climbing. Going any further today would have put us at one of those 10,000’+ days that we have sworn to avoid. 

And it’s a good thing, too. Because, while it was drizzling a little on us as we pulled into town, that drizzle turned into a full-fledged soaking rain pretty much as soon as we stopped. 

Raining and 50. Not a good combination for pretty much any activity. 

Years ago Diana and I participated in a 100-mile gravel ride down around Rochester, Minnesota – the Almanzo. We borrowed a tandem mountain bike from some friends. Right as the event started it started to rain. And it was about 45-50 degrees. The worst part was that the gravel in southern Minnesota turns to a peanut butter-like consistency when wet. There were no fenders on the bike, and the peanut butter-like gravel splattered up onto my face as we rode. We were wet inside and out. And demoralized. We lasted about 30 miles before we found a store to warm up in, and then we turned tail and headed back to the car. 

We’re on pavement now. Which is good. But we’re older. We have loaded bikes. We don’t have a car. And the stores and restaurants that are around are basically open air – that is, no real inside, and definitely no heat. Coffee shops or Starbucks or hot drinks? Forget about it . . .

We did have our hotel. And this one did have hot water. But today I was the colder one – so I took the first shower. Sadly, just as Diana started her shower the hot water ran out. Nothing worse than getting wet, lathering up, and then the water goes cold . . .

Ugh. (Kind of proves the rule about hot water in Latin America – even when they do have it, it’s a challenge . . .)

But we survived, and with the extra time after finishing early, we took a little nap. 

And then we had cuy!

Yes, that’s right. After a 500 mile or so buildup we finally had this interesting delicacy. 

On the positive side, Diana and I have always been dark meat people. Plenty of dark meat. Well, “plenty” might be the wrong word. There really wasn’t plenty of meat at all. There’s a lot of skin. And it’s good – kind of crispy and fatty. But it’s pretty chewy. Which might be good if you grew up with it. But it’s kind of a lot of effort and the chewiness lasts a little too long for my Middle-America tastes. 

Kind of fun – but probably not something that I need to have again . . .

We did see Chen – yesterday’s new friend – a few more times today. First, at the hotel in Alausi. After 1,500 miles of no flats, we had our second one in the past three days. I must have run over a shard of metal on the way into town last night. Convenient to have the flat at the hotel I guess. Anyway, Chen just happened to be passing by and it was nice to chat with him again. 

And then as we were climbing out of town, Chen appeared again. He had hired a taxi to take him to some viewpoint, but apparently there was too much fog. Anyway, we took a few more pictures together. Hopefully we’ll see him again down the road.

The last thing . . . Take a look at this video. Supposed to be about Diana thinking about passing a truck. But ended up more interesting than that – in a very Latin American way . . .

Tomorrow – Ecuador’s Election Day – we try to make it to El Tambo. It’s not that far. Only 37 miles. But, as noted, there’s a ton of climbing involved. And, I guess, there’s supposed to be even more rain. Worst case, I saw that Chen’s taxi was a pickup truck. If things really get bad I’m pretty sure we could throw the bikes in back and crank up the heat (if there is heat . . .).

Then the Machu Picchu of Ecuador – and then one more day of riding and we make it to Cuenca – where Mark and Linda’s friends and their real house, with real hot water, await. From there we take the shortest route to warmth and, hopefully, flatter terrain. 

The mountains here are breathtaking, when they reveal themselves. 

But, enough is enough . . .