6/4/2013 Soldados to Cuenca
D29, T2, Av14.35, Max35, Tot 12531, 2387
Fine and cool
After having a fairly restless night. I guess from anticipation of getting to Cuenca and having made it over this isolated road. I was up super early, having a coffee and just enjoying the early morning light and the clouds that were still hiding the top of the range beyond the river.
I was in no hurry to leave, knowing it was all downhill to Cuenca. Sitting enjoying my coffee, taking in this peaceful world. I was inspired to write a few words about my observations here in this small pueblo in the Cajas National Park, a place of so much beauty.
Like crystals on the grass
the nights rain is slowly consumed
by the early morning sun
its rays explore the valley
A breeze so refreshing
The Toi Toi on rivers edge
too revealing its presence
Hummingbirds seeking nectar
Hovering oh so skilfully
Suddenly away they flee
The mountain stream
Its flow broken by rocks
A sound so soothing
From its bank afar
Arises the range steep
Green slopes
Grass and scattered taller life
Serrated at its peak
by erose rock
The mountain air
crystal clear
its peace you could hear
A huge omelette was enjoyed, packing was done slowly and methodically, time was allowed to dry a few things in the early morning wind and sun.
Once packed about 0915, and heading through the school grounds some guys were going fishing. I joined them for a while, again no luck.
That was soon alleviated with a trout ordered in the small restaurant, it was delicious though bathed in oil during the cooking process. Fried food can be so addictive.
On leaving, I bumped into a Belgian guy who is doing a study on the decline of the trout population up here. The fish are getting smaller and less are being caught.
Many professionals work the creeks and lakes supplying the restaurant trade.
Poison, sadly, has been known to have been used, and nets. He is interviewing most people who live up here, especially the older people. The trout were introduced 50-60 years ago. predominantly rainbows, though some browns are caught.
I now know the only reason I didn’t catch one, they weren’t there to catch. That’s my story anyway. I like to think it had nothing to do with my skills!!
Leaving town, hardly a pedal was turned, though the road was a maze of pot holes and water runoff channels.
The river was company, all the way to Cuenca.
At one point a deep stretch of muddy slurry obstructed my passage. After some investigation and moving a few rocks, a track was found around the edge of it.
I really didn’t want this mess all over the rims and guards.
As it was some stuck anyway, it was cleaned off with a stick. This stuff plays havoc with the rims and the brakes.
People were picking blackberries on the way down, more people were fishing.
Little settlements were scattered all the way to Cuenca along the river.
Cyclists on mountain bikes come up here for a few hours ride.
Stopping to talk to some of them, they informed me about some things in town.
It was so nice to get back onto an asphalted road again.
Arriving in Cuenca, the Spanish architecture was so conspicuous, it is a world heritage site due to the excellent preservation of the buildings.
Talking to a polish couple who were long term travellers, I couldn't help but notice all the cuts, scabs and bandages on the guy legs, feet and hands.
Someone had pinched his camera in Trujillo, Peru. He chased him and managed to hang onto the getaway car and was dragged along the road before forcing his way in the door. Classic stuff. He got his camera back. They were a really interesting and animated couple, we spent along time talking and perusing my map. They were catching a bus to Quito. It was interesting hearing about Usuhaia. Though the camera story was movie material.
He spent time in hospital in Trujillo. The only stories of drama seem to all be coming from Peru.
My hostal is 150 years old. The hostal El Monarca. They are everywhere here in the old part of town.
All the streets are cobbled, narrow, all the same and bloody easy to get lost.
D29, T2, Av14.35, Max35, Tot 12531, 2387
Fine and cool
After having a fairly restless night. I guess from anticipation of getting to Cuenca and having made it over this isolated road. I was up super early, having a coffee and just enjoying the early morning light and the clouds that were still hiding the top of the range beyond the river.
I was in no hurry to leave, knowing it was all downhill to Cuenca. Sitting enjoying my coffee, taking in this peaceful world. I was inspired to write a few words about my observations here in this small pueblo in the Cajas National Park, a place of so much beauty.
Like crystals on the grass
the nights rain is slowly consumed
by the early morning sun
its rays explore the valley
A breeze so refreshing
The Toi Toi on rivers edge
too revealing its presence
Hummingbirds seeking nectar
Hovering oh so skilfully
Suddenly away they flee
The mountain stream
Its flow broken by rocks
A sound so soothing
From its bank afar
Arises the range steep
Green slopes
Grass and scattered taller life
Serrated at its peak
by erose rock
The mountain air
crystal clear
its peace you could hear
A huge omelette was enjoyed, packing was done slowly and methodically, time was allowed to dry a few things in the early morning wind and sun.
Once packed about 0915, and heading through the school grounds some guys were going fishing. I joined them for a while, again no luck.
That was soon alleviated with a trout ordered in the small restaurant, it was delicious though bathed in oil during the cooking process. Fried food can be so addictive.
On leaving, I bumped into a Belgian guy who is doing a study on the decline of the trout population up here. The fish are getting smaller and less are being caught.
Many professionals work the creeks and lakes supplying the restaurant trade.
Poison, sadly, has been known to have been used, and nets. He is interviewing most people who live up here, especially the older people. The trout were introduced 50-60 years ago. predominantly rainbows, though some browns are caught.
I now know the only reason I didn’t catch one, they weren’t there to catch. That’s my story anyway. I like to think it had nothing to do with my skills!!
Leaving town, hardly a pedal was turned, though the road was a maze of pot holes and water runoff channels.
The river was company, all the way to Cuenca.
At one point a deep stretch of muddy slurry obstructed my passage. After some investigation and moving a few rocks, a track was found around the edge of it.
I really didn’t want this mess all over the rims and guards.
As it was some stuck anyway, it was cleaned off with a stick. This stuff plays havoc with the rims and the brakes.
People were picking blackberries on the way down, more people were fishing.
Little settlements were scattered all the way to Cuenca along the river.
Cyclists on mountain bikes come up here for a few hours ride.
Stopping to talk to some of them, they informed me about some things in town.
It was so nice to get back onto an asphalted road again.
Arriving in Cuenca, the Spanish architecture was so conspicuous, it is a world heritage site due to the excellent preservation of the buildings.
Talking to a polish couple who were long term travellers, I couldn't help but notice all the cuts, scabs and bandages on the guy legs, feet and hands.
Someone had pinched his camera in Trujillo, Peru. He chased him and managed to hang onto the getaway car and was dragged along the road before forcing his way in the door. Classic stuff. He got his camera back. They were a really interesting and animated couple, we spent along time talking and perusing my map. They were catching a bus to Quito. It was interesting hearing about Usuhaia. Though the camera story was movie material.
He spent time in hospital in Trujillo. The only stories of drama seem to all be coming from Peru.
My hostal is 150 years old. The hostal El Monarca. They are everywhere here in the old part of town.
All the streets are cobbled, narrow, all the same and bloody easy to get lost.
Typical road conditions, concentration was required, though only between taking in the so many shades of green and blue.
These quaint bridges gave access to those living across the river.
I don't like taking photos of people unless I have properly interacted with them. I would not like someone coming up to me and taking my photo.
These two ladies did not know of this shot. These short elderly woman are everywhere here in Cuenca, proud of their heritage as seen by their traditional dress. Many were seen carrying heavy loads on the way down from Soldados.
It was nice to see the new generation helping them.
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This water was sure going to beat me to Cuenca.
One of the reasons why Cuenca in listed as a world heritage site.
Looking south from town, the river was at the foot of these stairs.
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