Loja to Macará
14/4/2013 Loja
We all got up pretty early and headed over the road to a coffee shop for breakfast.
Then caught the bus to Vilcabamba which is a town exactly like Bellingen, near my home town, for those who have been there.
Like Loja here it is very popular with expats living there.
Craft shops were everywhere as were really nice cafes and restaurants. We cruised about here for sometime then got the bus back to Loja.
Pete was feeling a bit crook in the evening, Diedre and I headed out for dinner to load up on carbs for tomorrow. We bought Pete a soup back from the restaurant.
15/4/2013 Loja to north of San Pedro de la Bendita
D55, T8, Av13, Max65, Tot 12806, 2807
Cool and wet on the tops, hot at Catamayo
The three of us were up and ready to roll about 0700, Peter was still feeling a bit dodgey, we had a light breakfast across the road and headed off.
There was a steady climb out of Loja, a bus was seen leaving the scene of an accident, that of giving a dog a permanent limp. That poor dog let out a series of yelps, at least a dozen others dogs arrived on the scene. The injured dog managed to drag itself off the highway and into a drain.
Pete was struggling up the incline, it was also wet. We took stops and waited for him to catch us.
Further on Pete needed a bit of a bark, that did not offer him any relief either.
I stuck with Peter and Deirdre carried on at her pace and stopped to wait for us when she felt the distance might be increasing too much. We were stopping very frequently, it suited me also.
Pete does really well considering he is 75, most people this age would have discarded any dreams about long distance cycling many moons earlier in their lives.
He is an inspiration. Having a break together, I had a look at his cassette and front cranks, he was running a cassette that was not offering lower enough gears. We worked it out he was trying to ride this tough terrain in his lowest gear that was two gears higher than ours.
No wonder he was doing it tough.
He had also been sick in Quito. He was still not really back in perfect working order.
Finally reaching the top we enjoyed a 14km run down to Catamayo, a meal was also enjoyed here on the northern outskirts.
The road down had a gradient and bends perfect for a PB as far as speed was concerned. Unfortunately, asphalt can’t be relied on for a uniform surface. Sure enough on two sections, the road was under repair. One part would have claimed any cyclist arriving on the scene at a speed greater than 15km/hr.
This town that reminded me of a western town of depicted in movies. The surrounding landscape was dry and arid with agaves growing wherever they could. Their tall floral spears ever present.
The temperature down here was in the late twenties, up at the top of the range it was in the late teens. So typical of many passages here in Ecuador.
Over lunch it was decided that Pete needed to catch the bus here, and we would catch him the next day in Catacocha. He needed to rest.
We made sure he got the bus organised and Deirdre and I headed off for a nights camping somewhere between Catamayo and Catacocha.
The road was wide and constructed of concrete and flat, one can hardly remember riding a road offering level conditions, the coast is now a distant memory, the flat roads that too.
We past cane fields in the valley alongside us as we began another climb.
Deirdre is a great rider and moves along about my pace, the need to stop befell upon us both about the same time.
For two months now Ecuador has had vistas in all shades of green, the terrain now has all shades of brown. The climate feels very Mediterranean.
We bought supplies for the evening at San Pedro de la Bendita, a lovely town perched on a knob with commanding views of the countryside. Two young guys were fascinated with our bikes.
We hung at the shop eating ice creams and me drinking coke. My new addiction. One that will be nipped in the bud, should my travels not entail cycling.
Leaving here, the climbing continued, though always accompanied by effort cancelling vistas, vistas that reveal their grandeur only when you can smell the smells and be aware of the sounds of nature. Two senses lavishly garnished during passage by bicycle.
With time getting on, we really needed a camp, the road on its sinuous way through this terrain offered very little level ground along its verges.
The few properties up steep access ways had locked gates or were just too much hassle.
Coming to a sweeping bend with a valley running up to the right of us was what looked like a small park, there were toilets there and a BBQ shelter.
The lady in the small shop said we were welcome to camp there.
What a piece of luck, we had toilets and running water.
This was Deirdres first night camping on this particular trip, “at least I didn’t haul the tent all this way for nothing” was an utterance of hers at one point.
We set up our tents, I cooked my standard fair, she enjoyed the meal. We sat around chatting for some time, then started watching a movie.
16/4/2013 Sth of San Pedrro de la Bendita to Catacocha
D46, T6.5, Av12.38, Max61, Total 12852, 2853
Up early, an omelette was enjoyed, as was a coffee and tea, Deirdre snuck in some porridge during proceedings.
Packing up we thanked the owner and launched ourselves into what would be another long climb.
Pretty soon I rigged up my portable stereo speaker on the bars, Deirdre close behind, we elevated ourselves to some playlists compiled here in Ecuador, along with some Paul Kelly and Elton John.
For me the reality of this journey, here in this most beautiful of countries, was again brought alive in these southern mountains, listening to the sound of pan flutes that are part of Ecuadorian traditional music. It was euphoric to say the least. The climbing became easy. My riding companion made the moment even more enjoyable.
We both found the climbing becoming much more enjoyable.
Nearing the crest and coming around a bend, we were walloped by a 40 knot gust of wind, my face towel was dragged from my bars and became instantly airborne to 50 feet in the air, being blown over the steep drop off below the road then, all of a sudden the updraft delivered it almost on top of Deirdre further up the road.
Little items like this are now so important in making a day comfortable.
Once at the crest we decided it was best for her to go ahead on the downhill stretches, I was faster and using the brakes all the way down is something I try to avoid.
Climbing the hills, though hard work, is like money in the bank. It is fun coming down from these hard earned savings, sometimes it happens all to quick, like hastily spending money just cause you have got it. So far this road has offered terrain where all the money saved hasn’t been spent at once. It makes for nice mixed riding.
We had just the best lunch at Velacruz, a pueblito north of Catacocha.
Deirdres chicken looked raw, mine wasn’t much better, the pieces had been shallow fried.
Cutting my thick fleshy portion open, it did look pink, she sent hers back, on finishing my soup, a mouthful of the chicken revealed it had been smoked. It was the best chicken eaten to date.
The frying process was only to warm it.
Arriving at Catacocha we couldn’t find Pete, emailing him didn’t help. Our next move was the hospital, then he came sauntering across the town square.
We found a hostal together. We decided Pete needed to go to the hospital to see what was up, he couldn’t eat and was weak.
He and I grabbed a cab, he doesn’t speak any Spanish, my limited skills were needed to translate his condition to the staff.
The hospital was only 6 months old, we were treated like royalty on arrival, with doctors telling us a couple of the nurses needed companions.
Pete was put on a bed and given a huge injection of saline solution over about 30 minutes, he was also prescribed antibiotics.
The treatment was at no cost.
At least Peter knew that he didn’t have something to bad.
That evening we met a doctor from the hospital and a dentist who had lived in Canada over dinner in a local restaurant. They were really interesting and good company, Pete did start eating a bit.
17/4/2013 Catacocha to Tagula,EC
D63, T8hrs, Av 16.30, Max66, Tot12914, 2916
Fine and very hot, Mediterranean type climate
Pete was still weak, so the plan was to meet him in Macará the next day, he would bus it.
Deirdre and I got away about 0800. The morning saw us cruise downhill for 15km.
Along another bit of flat road my front tyre dumped its load, a thorn was found to be the culprit. As luck would have it we were stopped by a couple of pipes delivereing cool fresh water out of the hills above. Deirdre enjoyed its cooling liquid while I attended to the tyre.
People were washing trucks and clothes here, we mucked around for awhile taking photos, getting on my bike, the front tyre was flat again. Shit!!, upon again removing it a tiny piece of radial wire was found in the trye. We spent an hour here, time wasn’t an issue, though it was staring to get very hot.
Music helped us climb the hills ahead, that and many stops and chatting. practicing our Spanish.Getting to the crest of the next range, a draw bar crossed the road, the guys saw us coming and held it up. This inspection point is to check trucks coming north from Peru carrying contraband, Some consumer items and food are alot cheaper in Peru.
Here at Empalme we sat in the small shop for an hour chatting with the lady and were entertained by her son Mateo in a stroller. By the time we left, there was a pile of empty bottles and ice cream wrappers to be tallied up.
Onions, eggs and tomatos were bought for the night.
We tried to get a bottle of red, the locals only drank the hard stuff around here.
Leaving about 1500hrs, finding a camp was our next task. The river was at the bottom of this downhill run.
We had hoped for a riparian campsite, this was not to be. The river was running brown from quarrying activities and nothing but rocks lined it and the road.
The country around us was still very arid, hot and dusty. The road followed the river for sometime. Acacia trees with atrocious thorns dominated the landscape. Vultures circled the skies, eyes out for the dead or dying.
At this point, we didn’t fit either the condition or the predicament.
Comfortable camping was going to be hard to find.
Coming to another bridge at the pueblita of Tagula, the locals didn’t present themselves as to keen to have a couple of cyclists camping in their midst.
Both of us were quite worn out by now at, the time was now 1600 after some hot cycling all day.
We decided to ride on and away from the pueblita and up the hill, though always looking for somewhere to camp.
Five hundred meters on Deidre spotted a level track left the right hand side of the road, we headed along it and arrived at a farm house.
A woman was at the gate. I asked her if we could put our tents up near the small shed for the night.
The rest of the family came out and came up to greet us.
What a lovely bunch of people they were. They watched us pitch our tents. Their young son Alexandra was especially amused at our activities. They grew cattle and some crops. On some pretty steep hills I might add. We were so thankful of their hospitality.
We ate well, Deirdre using some concrete blocks for a seat, while the rest provided a bench for the stove.
In this harsh environment, we had found a little bit of comfort for the night, these experiences are so humbling. We both agreed with so few resources, those of a small piece of flat ground, a couple of blocks, tents, food and water, there was nothing more in this whole wide world we needed or wanted.
Fireflies flickered like terrestrial stars amongst the small bushes near us.
Music saw Deidre fall asleep while I documented the highlights of the day on the laptop, till a light shower of rain saw me too retreat to the nest.
18/4/2013 Tagula to Macará
D32, T6hrs, av 12.68, Max 57, Tot12946, 2948
Fine and hot , late 20’s
We were in no hurry to leave, knowing there was only 30 odd k between us and Macará, the border town near Peru.
These last few days, Deirdre and I have had an experience together neither of us will ever forget, we got on unbelievably well, both being very like minded. Both adventurous and both very capable.
Our riding was harmonious to say the least, rest stops came when we both needed them. We both marvelled at the environment around us and our levels of enthusiasm were comparable. All this laced with humour.
Our care, respect and enjoyment of each other’s company grew each day as we got to know one another better, only as you can when put in these situations. A friendship was building, we both felt that it was a friendship based on a common interest in cycling, that we both agreed could have seen us ride many miles more together.
I had the time, she didn’t, her committed was to accompany Peter to Cuzco and to her partner and friends in Smithers, British Columbia.
As I was about to say, the day ahead was going to be easy.
Leaving camp, about nine, the day was already hot. We divided what water we had left, thanked our hosts and began what was another long climb.
Often we would stop on the left side of the road in the shade beneath the road cuttings, the sun wasn’t high enough in the eastern sky to cast its warmth here yet.
Almost every vehicle that passed us would toot or give the thumbs up. The Ecuadorian motorists unknowingly provide more inspiration with these gestures.
The bus from Catacocha passed us, Deidre waving out suspecting Pete was on board, he was.
For this whole passage now bromeliads have been growing on every powerline, it fascinates me, a fascination that saw me stop everytime a good opportunity for a photo presented itself.
No need for red balls on valley spanning wires here. The bromels warned any pilot of the danger.
At the top of the range we enjoyed a drink and a rest in chairs at the shop.
The scenery is now back to shades of green.
That lushness, one, so often imagines of the tropics, is not often present. The islands off tropical Queensland also come as a surprise in that they are not lush.
At many places on the road there were cows and horses just wandering about on blind corners, it was scary when you saw a car coming, known there was a cow out on the road. Especially in close proximity.
Luckily we saw no mishaps, a driver inflicting a limp on a cow might not be arfforded to option to keep driving.
Soon the downhill run to Macará began, as did the further rise in temperature, close to town rice was growing in paddys in the lower spots.
Pete spotted us, his bus had arrived an hour or so earlier. We booked a hostal.
Pete was in much better spirits, the rest had been a help.
My intervention in their trip had been beneficial for all of us, Pete could recuperate and didn’t feel bad about restricting Deirdres riding, she didn’t have to hang around. We had a great time during this passage from Loja to Macará, the last town before crossing into Peru for all of us.
During the afternoon I posted my Ecuador map back to Australia along with a few hand made bracelets from Vilcabamba for Ben and Callum. These waterproof maps are quite heavy. Unused items in my kit are not going to be given the opportunity to see the rest of Western South America.
That evening we bought some Argentinean Shiraz and enjoyed a walk around the town in the balmy temperatures and a great meal of BBQ chicken. The alcohol didn’t take long to round the edges.
Deirdre and I swapped photos, I gave her the movie Red Dog to finish watching at some stage.
They both had one of these flat circular rubber discs that work as plugs in any sink, Pete gave me his, they are so handy for doing washing in motel rooms.
Deirdre also gave me some hand warmer saches and a couple of occy straps.
Our motel was as good as any at home. This was a nice place to spend my last days in Ecuador. The border is 3km south.
Deirdre and Pete are riding through to Peru tomorrow to catch the bus to Piura, a 5hr trip. They have a commitment in Cuzco with a tour company to do Macchu Picchu.
Me, I have a commitment only to the southern needle on my compass....................
19/4/2013 Macará
Fine and balmy
The three of us had breakfast together, pondered Deirdres map and generally spoke about how much we had enjoyed the last week.
We said our farewells and wished each other safe travels.
It had indeed been a great few days.
The rest of my day was spent blogging, getting Peruvian Soles and food for the road.
I received 2.57 soles for US$1 on the street here in Macará. I was happy with that.
It was a relaxing day. I had washed all my dirties, so things were looking up. A brew of coffee was made out on the deck.
Super petrol is now being used in the Primus omnifuel with great results, it is burning amazingly clean, the first lot purchased hardly registered on the bowser, I gave the guy 15c.
Tea was had at the same place as last night and was just as nice. I joined people at their table, the owner was a hard case. He had a great sense of humour.
Tomorrow will see me cross the border and head south east.
I have decided not to take the coast road, Devin said he coped head winds every day. The terrain profile shows some ranges but with them will come coolness and views.
My next time on the coast will be south of Trujillo.
We all got up pretty early and headed over the road to a coffee shop for breakfast.
Then caught the bus to Vilcabamba which is a town exactly like Bellingen, near my home town, for those who have been there.
Like Loja here it is very popular with expats living there.
Craft shops were everywhere as were really nice cafes and restaurants. We cruised about here for sometime then got the bus back to Loja.
Pete was feeling a bit crook in the evening, Diedre and I headed out for dinner to load up on carbs for tomorrow. We bought Pete a soup back from the restaurant.
15/4/2013 Loja to north of San Pedro de la Bendita
D55, T8, Av13, Max65, Tot 12806, 2807
Cool and wet on the tops, hot at Catamayo
The three of us were up and ready to roll about 0700, Peter was still feeling a bit dodgey, we had a light breakfast across the road and headed off.
There was a steady climb out of Loja, a bus was seen leaving the scene of an accident, that of giving a dog a permanent limp. That poor dog let out a series of yelps, at least a dozen others dogs arrived on the scene. The injured dog managed to drag itself off the highway and into a drain.
Pete was struggling up the incline, it was also wet. We took stops and waited for him to catch us.
Further on Pete needed a bit of a bark, that did not offer him any relief either.
I stuck with Peter and Deirdre carried on at her pace and stopped to wait for us when she felt the distance might be increasing too much. We were stopping very frequently, it suited me also.
Pete does really well considering he is 75, most people this age would have discarded any dreams about long distance cycling many moons earlier in their lives.
He is an inspiration. Having a break together, I had a look at his cassette and front cranks, he was running a cassette that was not offering lower enough gears. We worked it out he was trying to ride this tough terrain in his lowest gear that was two gears higher than ours.
No wonder he was doing it tough.
He had also been sick in Quito. He was still not really back in perfect working order.
Finally reaching the top we enjoyed a 14km run down to Catamayo, a meal was also enjoyed here on the northern outskirts.
The road down had a gradient and bends perfect for a PB as far as speed was concerned. Unfortunately, asphalt can’t be relied on for a uniform surface. Sure enough on two sections, the road was under repair. One part would have claimed any cyclist arriving on the scene at a speed greater than 15km/hr.
This town that reminded me of a western town of depicted in movies. The surrounding landscape was dry and arid with agaves growing wherever they could. Their tall floral spears ever present.
The temperature down here was in the late twenties, up at the top of the range it was in the late teens. So typical of many passages here in Ecuador.
Over lunch it was decided that Pete needed to catch the bus here, and we would catch him the next day in Catacocha. He needed to rest.
We made sure he got the bus organised and Deirdre and I headed off for a nights camping somewhere between Catamayo and Catacocha.
The road was wide and constructed of concrete and flat, one can hardly remember riding a road offering level conditions, the coast is now a distant memory, the flat roads that too.
We past cane fields in the valley alongside us as we began another climb.
Deirdre is a great rider and moves along about my pace, the need to stop befell upon us both about the same time.
For two months now Ecuador has had vistas in all shades of green, the terrain now has all shades of brown. The climate feels very Mediterranean.
We bought supplies for the evening at San Pedro de la Bendita, a lovely town perched on a knob with commanding views of the countryside. Two young guys were fascinated with our bikes.
We hung at the shop eating ice creams and me drinking coke. My new addiction. One that will be nipped in the bud, should my travels not entail cycling.
Leaving here, the climbing continued, though always accompanied by effort cancelling vistas, vistas that reveal their grandeur only when you can smell the smells and be aware of the sounds of nature. Two senses lavishly garnished during passage by bicycle.
With time getting on, we really needed a camp, the road on its sinuous way through this terrain offered very little level ground along its verges.
The few properties up steep access ways had locked gates or were just too much hassle.
Coming to a sweeping bend with a valley running up to the right of us was what looked like a small park, there were toilets there and a BBQ shelter.
The lady in the small shop said we were welcome to camp there.
What a piece of luck, we had toilets and running water.
This was Deirdres first night camping on this particular trip, “at least I didn’t haul the tent all this way for nothing” was an utterance of hers at one point.
We set up our tents, I cooked my standard fair, she enjoyed the meal. We sat around chatting for some time, then started watching a movie.
16/4/2013 Sth of San Pedrro de la Bendita to Catacocha
D46, T6.5, Av12.38, Max61, Total 12852, 2853
Up early, an omelette was enjoyed, as was a coffee and tea, Deirdre snuck in some porridge during proceedings.
Packing up we thanked the owner and launched ourselves into what would be another long climb.
Pretty soon I rigged up my portable stereo speaker on the bars, Deirdre close behind, we elevated ourselves to some playlists compiled here in Ecuador, along with some Paul Kelly and Elton John.
For me the reality of this journey, here in this most beautiful of countries, was again brought alive in these southern mountains, listening to the sound of pan flutes that are part of Ecuadorian traditional music. It was euphoric to say the least. The climbing became easy. My riding companion made the moment even more enjoyable.
We both found the climbing becoming much more enjoyable.
Nearing the crest and coming around a bend, we were walloped by a 40 knot gust of wind, my face towel was dragged from my bars and became instantly airborne to 50 feet in the air, being blown over the steep drop off below the road then, all of a sudden the updraft delivered it almost on top of Deirdre further up the road.
Little items like this are now so important in making a day comfortable.
Once at the crest we decided it was best for her to go ahead on the downhill stretches, I was faster and using the brakes all the way down is something I try to avoid.
Climbing the hills, though hard work, is like money in the bank. It is fun coming down from these hard earned savings, sometimes it happens all to quick, like hastily spending money just cause you have got it. So far this road has offered terrain where all the money saved hasn’t been spent at once. It makes for nice mixed riding.
We had just the best lunch at Velacruz, a pueblito north of Catacocha.
Deirdres chicken looked raw, mine wasn’t much better, the pieces had been shallow fried.
Cutting my thick fleshy portion open, it did look pink, she sent hers back, on finishing my soup, a mouthful of the chicken revealed it had been smoked. It was the best chicken eaten to date.
The frying process was only to warm it.
Arriving at Catacocha we couldn’t find Pete, emailing him didn’t help. Our next move was the hospital, then he came sauntering across the town square.
We found a hostal together. We decided Pete needed to go to the hospital to see what was up, he couldn’t eat and was weak.
He and I grabbed a cab, he doesn’t speak any Spanish, my limited skills were needed to translate his condition to the staff.
The hospital was only 6 months old, we were treated like royalty on arrival, with doctors telling us a couple of the nurses needed companions.
Pete was put on a bed and given a huge injection of saline solution over about 30 minutes, he was also prescribed antibiotics.
The treatment was at no cost.
At least Peter knew that he didn’t have something to bad.
That evening we met a doctor from the hospital and a dentist who had lived in Canada over dinner in a local restaurant. They were really interesting and good company, Pete did start eating a bit.
17/4/2013 Catacocha to Tagula,EC
D63, T8hrs, Av 16.30, Max66, Tot12914, 2916
Fine and very hot, Mediterranean type climate
Pete was still weak, so the plan was to meet him in Macará the next day, he would bus it.
Deirdre and I got away about 0800. The morning saw us cruise downhill for 15km.
Along another bit of flat road my front tyre dumped its load, a thorn was found to be the culprit. As luck would have it we were stopped by a couple of pipes delivereing cool fresh water out of the hills above. Deirdre enjoyed its cooling liquid while I attended to the tyre.
People were washing trucks and clothes here, we mucked around for awhile taking photos, getting on my bike, the front tyre was flat again. Shit!!, upon again removing it a tiny piece of radial wire was found in the trye. We spent an hour here, time wasn’t an issue, though it was staring to get very hot.
Music helped us climb the hills ahead, that and many stops and chatting. practicing our Spanish.Getting to the crest of the next range, a draw bar crossed the road, the guys saw us coming and held it up. This inspection point is to check trucks coming north from Peru carrying contraband, Some consumer items and food are alot cheaper in Peru.
Here at Empalme we sat in the small shop for an hour chatting with the lady and were entertained by her son Mateo in a stroller. By the time we left, there was a pile of empty bottles and ice cream wrappers to be tallied up.
Onions, eggs and tomatos were bought for the night.
We tried to get a bottle of red, the locals only drank the hard stuff around here.
Leaving about 1500hrs, finding a camp was our next task. The river was at the bottom of this downhill run.
We had hoped for a riparian campsite, this was not to be. The river was running brown from quarrying activities and nothing but rocks lined it and the road.
The country around us was still very arid, hot and dusty. The road followed the river for sometime. Acacia trees with atrocious thorns dominated the landscape. Vultures circled the skies, eyes out for the dead or dying.
At this point, we didn’t fit either the condition or the predicament.
Comfortable camping was going to be hard to find.
Coming to another bridge at the pueblita of Tagula, the locals didn’t present themselves as to keen to have a couple of cyclists camping in their midst.
Both of us were quite worn out by now at, the time was now 1600 after some hot cycling all day.
We decided to ride on and away from the pueblita and up the hill, though always looking for somewhere to camp.
Five hundred meters on Deidre spotted a level track left the right hand side of the road, we headed along it and arrived at a farm house.
A woman was at the gate. I asked her if we could put our tents up near the small shed for the night.
The rest of the family came out and came up to greet us.
What a lovely bunch of people they were. They watched us pitch our tents. Their young son Alexandra was especially amused at our activities. They grew cattle and some crops. On some pretty steep hills I might add. We were so thankful of their hospitality.
We ate well, Deirdre using some concrete blocks for a seat, while the rest provided a bench for the stove.
In this harsh environment, we had found a little bit of comfort for the night, these experiences are so humbling. We both agreed with so few resources, those of a small piece of flat ground, a couple of blocks, tents, food and water, there was nothing more in this whole wide world we needed or wanted.
Fireflies flickered like terrestrial stars amongst the small bushes near us.
Music saw Deidre fall asleep while I documented the highlights of the day on the laptop, till a light shower of rain saw me too retreat to the nest.
18/4/2013 Tagula to Macará
D32, T6hrs, av 12.68, Max 57, Tot12946, 2948
Fine and hot , late 20’s
We were in no hurry to leave, knowing there was only 30 odd k between us and Macará, the border town near Peru.
These last few days, Deirdre and I have had an experience together neither of us will ever forget, we got on unbelievably well, both being very like minded. Both adventurous and both very capable.
Our riding was harmonious to say the least, rest stops came when we both needed them. We both marvelled at the environment around us and our levels of enthusiasm were comparable. All this laced with humour.
Our care, respect and enjoyment of each other’s company grew each day as we got to know one another better, only as you can when put in these situations. A friendship was building, we both felt that it was a friendship based on a common interest in cycling, that we both agreed could have seen us ride many miles more together.
I had the time, she didn’t, her committed was to accompany Peter to Cuzco and to her partner and friends in Smithers, British Columbia.
As I was about to say, the day ahead was going to be easy.
Leaving camp, about nine, the day was already hot. We divided what water we had left, thanked our hosts and began what was another long climb.
Often we would stop on the left side of the road in the shade beneath the road cuttings, the sun wasn’t high enough in the eastern sky to cast its warmth here yet.
Almost every vehicle that passed us would toot or give the thumbs up. The Ecuadorian motorists unknowingly provide more inspiration with these gestures.
The bus from Catacocha passed us, Deidre waving out suspecting Pete was on board, he was.
For this whole passage now bromeliads have been growing on every powerline, it fascinates me, a fascination that saw me stop everytime a good opportunity for a photo presented itself.
No need for red balls on valley spanning wires here. The bromels warned any pilot of the danger.
At the top of the range we enjoyed a drink and a rest in chairs at the shop.
The scenery is now back to shades of green.
That lushness, one, so often imagines of the tropics, is not often present. The islands off tropical Queensland also come as a surprise in that they are not lush.
At many places on the road there were cows and horses just wandering about on blind corners, it was scary when you saw a car coming, known there was a cow out on the road. Especially in close proximity.
Luckily we saw no mishaps, a driver inflicting a limp on a cow might not be arfforded to option to keep driving.
Soon the downhill run to Macará began, as did the further rise in temperature, close to town rice was growing in paddys in the lower spots.
Pete spotted us, his bus had arrived an hour or so earlier. We booked a hostal.
Pete was in much better spirits, the rest had been a help.
My intervention in their trip had been beneficial for all of us, Pete could recuperate and didn’t feel bad about restricting Deirdres riding, she didn’t have to hang around. We had a great time during this passage from Loja to Macará, the last town before crossing into Peru for all of us.
During the afternoon I posted my Ecuador map back to Australia along with a few hand made bracelets from Vilcabamba for Ben and Callum. These waterproof maps are quite heavy. Unused items in my kit are not going to be given the opportunity to see the rest of Western South America.
That evening we bought some Argentinean Shiraz and enjoyed a walk around the town in the balmy temperatures and a great meal of BBQ chicken. The alcohol didn’t take long to round the edges.
Deirdre and I swapped photos, I gave her the movie Red Dog to finish watching at some stage.
They both had one of these flat circular rubber discs that work as plugs in any sink, Pete gave me his, they are so handy for doing washing in motel rooms.
Deirdre also gave me some hand warmer saches and a couple of occy straps.
Our motel was as good as any at home. This was a nice place to spend my last days in Ecuador. The border is 3km south.
Deirdre and Pete are riding through to Peru tomorrow to catch the bus to Piura, a 5hr trip. They have a commitment in Cuzco with a tour company to do Macchu Picchu.
Me, I have a commitment only to the southern needle on my compass....................
19/4/2013 Macará
Fine and balmy
The three of us had breakfast together, pondered Deirdres map and generally spoke about how much we had enjoyed the last week.
We said our farewells and wished each other safe travels.
It had indeed been a great few days.
The rest of my day was spent blogging, getting Peruvian Soles and food for the road.
I received 2.57 soles for US$1 on the street here in Macará. I was happy with that.
It was a relaxing day. I had washed all my dirties, so things were looking up. A brew of coffee was made out on the deck.
Super petrol is now being used in the Primus omnifuel with great results, it is burning amazingly clean, the first lot purchased hardly registered on the bowser, I gave the guy 15c.
Tea was had at the same place as last night and was just as nice. I joined people at their table, the owner was a hard case. He had a great sense of humour.
Tomorrow will see me cross the border and head south east.
I have decided not to take the coast road, Devin said he coped head winds every day. The terrain profile shows some ranges but with them will come coolness and views.
My next time on the coast will be south of Trujillo.
On the tops above Loja, still bloody cold
Catamayo, dry and hot
Such brilliant roads, engineering and art on a grand scale. They weaved their way through the landscape like serpents.
1000km south of Quito.
Great spot for a flat tyre, it was like an oasis, plus a tube beneath its surface revealed the holes readily
Ceabo tree, south of Catacocha, almost like a boab.
Just hangin' about. A couple old girls free of restaurant issues cutting their lives short.
An omelet ready to serve, camp the second night near Tagulo
Natures washing, out to dry, with a quilt in in the background.
An enjoyable week together with Deirdre and Peter, though like all travelling encounters, people have to move on. Downtown Macará, 3 km from the Peruvian border.
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The easy stuff!!
Sugar cane south of Catamayo, it was very reminiscent of Morocco dry hills with lush valleys
She didn't bring it all this way for nothing, our first night.
Catacocha park and ubiquitous church
We found it best if I waited 5-10 minutes before making my descent and always stopped at an ascent when encountered.
You never tired of this scenery, just "occasionally", the access to its splendor.
Camping here? Unfortunately not. Rio Catamayo
Trashed!!!! Near the summit, the saddle in the background
Welcome to Macará, if you were in a hurry and stuck to the Pan Am you could do Lima in 2 weeks
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Fascinating, Tillandsias, doing what they do best.
It was a great few days of shared camaraderie, challenges, laughs and fun.
