Spots of Color

Well, the distance from Cotopaxi to Latacunga was INCREDIBLY short and INCREDIBLY flat! As in, whereas the day before i think in 8 hours i was only in my big ring (i have two) for a maximum of 10 minutes, (i was in granny pretty much the ENTIRE day i think...and then by the end i was so tired, where there actually was flat for a few minutes, i still couldnt manage much more than grandma!), i actually got to put it to good use today! Well, in the short amount of time i was on my bike. But i felt like a million dollars, and for that, thank god! So i pulled into Latucunga early (while listening to jock jams 95, gotta say something for the tootsie roll, ya know?) . Now, from Latucunga i was planning on doign this loop between indigenous villages a bit higher up in the mountains, and so needed to leave Jake in town, since it woudl be some non-bikeable roads and trails. And let me tell you, after driving uphill for 1.75 hours on the only road that WOULD have been considered bikeble, i say thank my lucky stars i left him there to wait for me! i liked to reserve my million dollar feeling.

Wow. The Andes amaze me though. Watching the scenes unfold from the bus window was like watching a movie set back in time. You could see the Illianzas and Mt. Cotopaxi always looming in the background, where in the forefront the hills were all a patchwork of yellows and greens. It was much greener than north of Quito, but still fairly brown. This only highlighted bright clothing, however, of the people working in the fields, doing wash on stones, shephading their animals or simply sitting or walking on the side of the road. The bus I was on also was 98% indigenous people in traditional clothing. The women typically wear several embroidered (solid colors with embroidery of the same color) wraps, knee length skirts, slightly heeled shoes, a plaid scarf around their neck, and their hair back in one a low-ponytail completely encased in an embroidered wrap -- like the kind that is popular to get a few strands of hair in in the carribean. Like the men, they sometimes wore a slighly rimmed, dark green hat with a peacock feather on the side. The men were all in heavy ponchos down to their knees, pants, and often knee-high boots, especially when they were in the fields. There were two other foreigners on the very over-crowded bus other than myself, a belgian and a Spaniard.

There is a huge market on Saturday mornings in Zambuha, for which, apparently, indians come from as far as the coast for. For this reason, I wanted to stay in Zambuha that night, but had enough time for a hike or something of the likes before dark. After getting off the bus in Z, the belgian (Jesse) and I started our way towards Lake Quinotoa, which is amazing. School must have just been letting out, as there were a ton of children on the road, most of who would laugh and discuss amongst themselves when they saw us. -- Though would alwasys share a few words with us after we greeted them with a buenas dias or hola. The houses were quaint, and had roofs varying from brush to tin. Most houses had a couple of gardens and several animals grazing out front. After walking for about an hour, Jesse and I hopped into a passing pickup that offered us a ride. Lake Quinotoa is amazing. It is a crater lake, and though the weather was not fantastic, the low-hanging clouds gave it a mystical feeling. After haivng a cafe in the cafe desinged for tourists, we headed down. It takes about 30 minutes to get down and hour to get back up (about 20-25 % grade, i would say, of which a large part is sand). Whew. But makes you appreciate the view from the top a hell of a lot more! We had arranged for a ride back to Zumbuha (and jesse had already paid for a room back in Latucunga), so headed that way. The sunset over the hills and mountains was pretty spectacular to see from the back of a moving pickup. Accroding to Lonely planet, there was supposed to be all kinds of partying and traditional andean music in Zumbuha the night before the market...but this was no where near the case!! I stayed at Oro Verde, which was nothing special, but I really liked the family that ran it-- and it/they had the only open resturant/bar open in the village! Hence, Javier (the Spaniard from the bus) came in shortly after I sat down for dinner. After dinner we ended up having a couple beers -- though much to my chargrin, he didnt speak any english! I must say though, he is reallly really good at understanding and being patient with bad spanish! Neither of us were sure what exactly our plan was for the next day, other than to see the market. I was planning on going past Quinotoa to Chucachli, a smaller pueblo on the other side of lake and canyon. He hadnt been to the lake yet, so was going to fit that in.

The market was great -- i could hear people coming in for it all night (the entire village consisted of the plaza and the 4 streets around it). All kinds of live animals, grains, meats, clothing, and other goods. After meandering the crowds for 1.5 hours or so and having some patatas and huevos, I ran into Javier. It was still only 7:30 so we had a full day ahead of us. We decided to meet in Quilota around 11 and then hike to Chuchilan. -- This was good for me, as i didnt think the the trails were really well marked and i know i have a perchant for getting lost! I hung around Z long enough for another cafe and to pay the family for my stay, and then started walking to the lake. I just couldnt get enough of the surroundings. --Which was appararent, since i was so busy looking around me, i wasnt looking at the road and fell, ripping my pants and bleeding in a few places. Nice. But such is life, so i continued on, figurignt that even though i knew i wouldnt make it walking in time, that there were plenty of pickups passing by from the market.

Ahh. I am tired of writing now. I think i need to not detail every second of my life. Until next time.