Day 7: Isinlivi To Random Farm Shack (20 Miles)

We headed out of Isinlivi after one last glorious breakfast.  We were supposed to head through Sigchos and onto Chugchilan, but we accidentally took a shortcut up and down a gnarly steep push-a-bike gravel road straight towards Chugchilan.  And then, we found pavement.  While I love dirt roads, pavement feels like a luxury when there is no traffic, and this section of road was recently paved.  We had read that the government of Ecuador was slowly improving road infrastructure all over the country and to expect random pavement.  And random it was as it kept starting and stopping here and there.

Just some views, ya know.

Bici glamour shot.

On the road again.

Sweet sweet empty pavement!

Peanut butter jelly time.  With company.

Not the most handsome dog we encountered, but he was sweet and fed him peanut butter and tortillas.

Group shot... the summit before Insinlivi is somewhere over there along the ridge behind us.

We arrived in Chugchilan around 2 pm and contemplated stopping.  We had heard nice things about the Hostel Cloud Forest from folks that had hiked into Isinlivi, but we were itching to camp and there was still plenty of daylight left.  After a quick water refill and stocking up on some random supplies, including what I thought were cheese empanadas and sweet bread swirled with chocolate, we hopped back on a dirt road toward the Quilatoa Crater.  Since we were all a little tired, we decided we would stop at the first good camping spot.

Stocking up on supplies.

Waiting for Ani to pee at a fancy hospedaje on the outskirts of Chugchilan.  The bikes match the flowers!

Steep canyon walls and cliff sides did not give us much hope for camping.

Seriously. So steep!

We investigated each flat looking spot as we climbed higher and higher to no avail.  And then we saw it.  A tiny shack nestled into the canyon, barely visible from the road.  Ed joked around that we should stay there.  It wasn't a bad idea.  I figured, it was worth a look to see if it was inhabited, so Ani and scrambled down a faint steep crumbling trail and peered inside.  Nothing but some empty fertilizer bottles.  It was flat and sturdy enough.  "We should totally stay here," I declared.  We decided to take our bikes down fully loaded so we didn't have to leave someone at the road to guard our gear, or to linger too long, lest someone see us bringing our bikes down.  It was cumbersome, but we all got our bikes down.

Ani and I investigate this fine abode.

As I pulled a pannier off my rear rack, the handle that engages and disengages the hooks for the rack broke and the whole pannier went tumbling down head over tail.  There was one area that looked less steep where I thought it might stop, but it just kept going over the cliff and out of sight.  Ani went sprinting down after it after she saw my horrified face.  Turns out it lodged itself in the middle of a bush on the steepest part of the slope.  It would require someone to rappel down to retrieve it.  Ani is a good climber and I know just enough that we decided we would see if we could fashion harnesses from hammocks and maybe, just maybe we would have enough rope to make it down.  After assessing the situation, we realized there was nowhere safe to anchor in, just some scraggly bushes, and not nearly enough rope.  Nope, I said.  Not worth it.  

Peering into the canyon of doom for my Ortlieb pannier.

I didn't lose anything I couldn't live without.  Even though it had all my rain gear, puffy jacket, clothes, beloved camping hammock, shoes, flip flops, electronic dongles, journal, spare credit card, and $150, I would survive the night by borrowing some of Ani's clothes and luckily I still had all my camping gear. 

Exhausted after running up and down the canyon a few times.  Time to make a lovely dinner of pasta with spicy red pepper and chocho sauce, red cabbage, onion, carrot, queso fresco, and parmesan.

View from inside our shack.  Ed slept in his hammock and Ani and I set up my tent inside to stay warmer.  We passed the rest of the evening chatting and otherwise lamenting the loss of my pannier.

A few tips for cycle tourists:

• If we had stayed on the road toward Sigchos, the riding would have been a bit nicer, I think.  The "shortcut" we took was fine, but was super steep and unrideable for us.  

• I contacted Ortlieb after we got back to the U.S. about my pannier malfunction.  I was a bit disappointed in their customer service.  Nearly three weeks had passed with no response to my email, so I called.  Ian was friendly enough and apologetic, and told me that while the pannier wouldn't be under warranty because the broken handle was considered a "wear and tear" issue, that he could get me a "crash replacement" new set for $90 if I sent back the other pannier.  I wasn't super excited about that solution, but needed the documentation of what they could do for my travel insurance claim.  Also, if you ever need to deal with Ortlieb's customer service, just call, lest your email get lost in cyberspace.

Day 6: Isinlivi

Sometimes, the best days are rest days!  We had been flying by the seat of our pants since the beginning of the trip and the days had been a blurry whirlwind of packing bikes, unpacking bikes, fixing bikes, route mapping, and fueling ourselves on little other than pure stoke.  When I stumbled down from bed, the coffee was already ready... did I mention the all you can drink coffee and tea?  My only advice would be not to stay here too long, lest you get completely and utterly spoiled and no longer able to live like a normal human being.

We had turned our clothes in the night before for laundry service and eagerly awaited our clean clothes.  The dryer was so hot that it melted my cycling top and Ed's shorts.  It wasn't really a big deal, but we did want to let the folks at the reception know so that they could warn others that synthetic clothes should be line dried.  The silver lining was that we got upgraded to a fancy cabin, with a private shower, private deck, and free hot tub access!  This was a sacrifice well made.

Dryer versus synthetic clothes.

Just one of the residents sharing this beautiful space.

Balou, the other furry resident.  He is clearly vicious.

Spent some time airing out our gear, doing bike maintenance, and hanging out with Balou.  His yellow palace is fancier than the shed in which we stored our bikes.

After a hard morning of doing nothing, we took advantage of our hot tub privileges.

Cabin upgrade!

Check out the view from the shower!

And the view from our balcony!  Time for happy hour with the first craft beers we came across in Ecuador (which, by the way, has a burgeoning craft beer scene, much to my delight).

We wandered around town, managed to find an internet cafe (a la 2002!) to tell our loved ones we were alive after days off grid, socialized with folks hiking the Quilotoa loop as they rolled in, and prepared to hit the road again.

The megatropolis of Isinlivi.  Ed is somewhere halfway down this small hill taking a nap.

Sometimes being a celebrity is hard.

Paradise found.  Also, the last time my hammock ever got used.  More on that later.

Heating up tortillas in our private fireplace to make wraps for the next day!

A few tips for cycle tourists:

• Isinlivi is pretty small and does not have many amenities.  My understanding is that there are two hostals, one tiny store, a dairy, one internet cafe which is really the front of someone's house, one place that has wifi available in the front of someone else's house, and not much else.  Although the Llulu Llama offers lunch at an additional cost, we decided to have a light lunch of sandwiches at the tiny store (they are only $1 each) made with the cheese from the local dairy.  The store has just enough for those who are on a budget to cobble together a meal, and also sells beer at a much better price than the hostal. 

Day 5: Cotopaxi National Park To Isinlivi (42.3 Miles)

We woke up to mist over the open valley, dew covering our the rainfly on my tent.  Breakfast was a decadent affair of steamed humitas we had purchased in Quito topped with avocado, queso fresco, and a few emergency Cholula packets I always stash in my panniers.  We were excited to pack up and ride out because we knew the day would bring our first really big descent down the other side of Cotopaxi from 12,500 feet to the valley floor at 9,900 feet.

Sunshine, unexpected pavement with bike lanes, windswept hair, and happy faces about halfway down the descent!

Back to the dirt roads I love so much.

The Kasch Klan... not many brother-sister duos are this rad.

After passing industrial flower farms hidden by massive fences ("Ecuatoroses!"), crossing the PanAmerican, and taking a "detour" through a random town where we accidentally biked through a soccer game that occupied its main road, we starting climbing back out of the valley.  We stopped in Toacazo for lunch, supplies, and a surprise political parade with a motorcade that was bigger than the town.  From here, we headed towards Isinlivi as we began our own version of the Quilotoa loop.  Our inspiration for this leg of the trip was the oh so sexy bikepacker Cass Gilbert, whose journeys on his orange Surly Troll led to a fangirl crush and my own mini-version of his bike.  We spent the afternoon marveling at the Hobbit-faeryland landscapes as we made our way to a 13,000 foot summit.

More cobblestone on the way out of Toacazo... good thing my bike superpower is having a titaintium.

Aaaaaand, after just a tiny bit of cobblestone, we were back to our beloved dirt.

Winding up and up, the dirt road was in pretty good shape, except for some deep sandy section.  Ed tried to blaze through a few and sometimes he won, but this time, the sand pit won.

Sandy tracks... stunning views.  Zero traffic.  Ani is somewhere over there dancing atop a grassy hill.

Ed and I making our way slowly up with a green patchwork backdrop.

  

Snack break.

As we turned our pedals into the late afternoon, we decided we would make a huge push and try to make it all the way to Isinlivi, and then have a rest day there.  And then, at long last, it was time to throw on some layers and get ready to bomb down into Isinvili.  Even though we were exhausted, we couldn't help but bask in the descent in the glowing late afternoon sun, which had lit up the surrounding hillside in warm ambient lighting.  Once we got into the groove of our descent, it seemed to last forever.  The warm rays transformed into a stunning sunset, and then to darkness.

Pictures don't do this moment justice.  I had to stop and just basked in the sun and the views.

Even though the descent called us, we kept stopping to not let this moment go by too quickly.

Fading light and valley views.

Illuminated fiery skies.

We threw our headlights on, rocked our blinking wheel lights, and coasted into town around 7 pm with no major incidents, except some rude sheep scaring the shit out of us as they baaa-ed at us from the darkness with no warning.  Dead on our feet, we found ourselves at the Hostal Llulu Llama, one of the recommendations by Cass Gilbert, a cozy eco-lodge that lives up to its reputation.  Luck would have it that the family-style dinner included with lodging was just being served, so we were invited to eat prior to any check-in formalities.  We gorged on lentil soup, fresh crisp salad, a chicken fritatta, and a sweet cornbread cake, stumbled to our beds, and passed out.

Taking a final minute to enjoy the wood stove before bed.

A few tips for cycle tourists:

• The southern entrance to Cotopaxi National Park was recently paved with an ample bike lane and an eminently reasonable climbing grade (well, as compared to the northern entrance).  It boasts many amenities and a much more official looking control point.  This is where all the tours and most tourists enter the park.  

• The area past Toacazo was pretty remote and we would have been completely lost without Maps.ME.  Oftentimes, we would find ourselves at intersections, some with as many as five intersecting roads.  Even though not all those roads were on the map, we could see if we were on the right road based on the GPS.

• There were plenty of remote places that seemed ideal for wild camping near the 13,000 foot summit before we descended into Isinlivi.  Nothing with water, so those wanting to camp would need to pack water in.

• The Hostal Llulu Llama was a bike tourists dream.  Hot showers, lots of communal space both inside and out, a hot tub, options from dorms to private cabins, a secure area to store bikes, gorgeous views, and friendly front desk staff!  It is a little pricey for those on a budget at $20 per person, but that includes a beautifully prepared breakfast and dinner.  Most of other folks staying there are hiking the Quilatoa loop.  I've been told that it can be completely booked up in advance, so if it is high season, you may need to make reservations in advance or beg to throw up a tent outside.  We just showed up and were very lucky to nab the last 3 dorm beds.

Day 4: Machachi To Cotopaxi National Park (9 Miles)

We went back to the market early in the morning to grab some fruit, queso fresco, and hot cocoa mix to make our instant coffee more palatable.  Ani was poking around one of the market stands and the vendor gave her a handful of sticky toffees for free.  We were bummed that none of the food stands at the market were open yet, but after asking around, we were told that "the" breakfast place was on another edge of the market.  And indeed, it was "the" breakfast place.  The owner ushered us in and explained what there was that day.  Ed and I ordered some juice, hot chocolate, caldo de pollo (a chicken soup with clear broth and yuca and some cilantro-type fresh herb), and fresh bread with queso fresco sandwiched in it.  Ani just ordered the queso fresco sandwich, but after seeing our soup, immediately ordered that, too.  The owner gave me a knowing look and said "my food is the freshest!"  With our bellies full, we rolled out of Machachi to sunnier skies and a bit of trepidation about the route to come.

The road out of Machachi started off pretty good...

We plummeted down into a small valley leaving Machachi on a gloriously paved road.  And then the pavement ended and turned back into cobblestone as the road started its ascent to the base of Volcan Cotopaxi.  After a while, it was clear that the grade of the road and cobblestones would be unrelenting.  With clouds looming, Ani verbalized out loud what we were all thinking.  "So hey guys, I wouldn't be opposed to getting a truck to help us up this thing, I don't want to push my bike all day and I'd rather hop a truck if we can't ride."  If we had unlimited time, maybe I would have stuck it out, but I agreed with her.  My personal rule with group bike touring is to do whatever whatever the person who is feeling mentally and physically the worst wants to do.

And magically, this lovely truck driver appeared.  For $25, he would lug the three of us and all of our bikes to the park entrance.  Ed decided to sit up front and chat with the driver about live, the universe, and everything and practice his Spanish.  Ani and I sat in the truck bed to enjoy the fresh air and have better views.

Truck bed selfies.

As we jostled up and up and up... I was happy to not be pushing my bike up the road.  We probably wouldn't have made it to the park even that day and we didn't want to get too off the schedule.  Although we had built some flex days in, we didn't want to burn through them so early.

We finally made it to the park entrance just around lunchtime.  Although we had read other accounts that there were no park fees, the park official at this entrance was in a heated argument with some other tourists about how foreigners were required to have a certified guide in the park, and a guide cost $40.  After some contentious negotiation, we grouped all the foreigners together with one guide.  We ended up paying $20 and it was decided that the guide Mariela would lead us in a truck and we would follow on our bikes.  The others jetted out once they were past the control point and just left, much to the park official's chagrin.  Mariela was incredibly sweet and full of interesting information and we were happy to have her company.

Whew, made it.

FINALLY, my kind of dirt road with sweeping stark views.  It was still a lot of "up" and since we were now at over 12,000 feet, we were still struggling a bit.  So we figured we would take advantage of having a guide in a truck, and so we had Mariela take our panniers.

This lava rock is famous because it is from the last eruption of Cotopaxi in 2015.

Mariela is so cool she has a dog named "Valley of the Condors" in Quechua.  She also explained to us that Cotopaxi means "Neck of the Moon."

Although there are several camping areas in the park, Mariela told us the one by the laguna was quieter and more peaceful.  And indeed, it was.  There was just one other group camping there, some wild horses, and lots of birds.

After depositing us at the camping area, Mariela went on her merry way and we were left to set up camp and explore.  Our first order of business was to set up camp and cobble together wraps with tuna, queso fresco, avocado, and spinach as we had forgotten to eat lunch in the stress of entering the park.  Ani decided to try to take a nap and Ed and I explored the laguna.  As the sun set, we cooked dinner and learned that the type of lentils available in Ecuador take forever to cook.

Camp!

That tiny speck is my tent and if it were a clear day, you would see Cotopaxi peeking out behind.

Ed and I came across some nice gals from Chile who let us take a glamour shot with their jeep.

Eruption evacuation route signs are up in this joint.

The laguna was beautiful and had a neat trail that circumnavigated the whole thing.  We decided to walk around it and see what there was to see.  We saw cows, birds (aplomado falcon, Andean lapwing, ducks), and lots of bunnies!

And then surprise!  Cotopaxi decided to come out from under the clouds for a few minutes before they enveloped her in a mystical shroud again.  We also found a beautifully clean water source away from the horses and cattle grazing here, so we filtered some water.

The flora is tiny, but colorful, and beautiful.

View from the tent.  Hello wild horses!

View from the other side of the tent.  Hello Ed!

A few tips for cycle tourists:

• If we had more time, I may have pushed to actually cycling the section into the northern entrance and attempt to go around the east side of the volcano rather than sticking to the dirt road that goes through the park out the southern entrance.  Ed only had two weeks for this tour and Ani and I had three weeks so we had to make some hard route choices.

• The control points are only open certain hours and there is nothing otherwise barring folks from entering the park.  Other accounts of cycle tourists entering the park after the control points are closed with no problems and no charges.  My feeling is that if we had arrived after 4 pm, we would not have had to pay nor had any problems otherwise.

• There are many options for accommodations within the park ranging from primitive camping to lodges with hot showers and wifi.  The camping area by the laguna requires folks to either boil water or have a filter and there are no bathroom facilities.  The camping area by the southern entrance has everything from bathrooms to a little store and restaurant.  There is also an area close to the volcano where a lot of climbers stay (El Refugio).