January 25th, 2014
We (myself, my brother, Clara, Chris, and Dan) wake up around 7:30 to be ready for our 8 o’clock ride to the smaller of two bus terminals, graciously provided by our hostel owner Andres who says he’s headed to the market anyway. Check out the dogs of Mallki hostel and more of Cuenca here.
The buses that go directly to Cajas National Park, a mountainous wonderland just an hour from Cuenca, are fairly limited, but one is scheduled to leave at 8:30 and Andres us drops us off in a back alley alongside the bus station to buy our tickets in plenty of time.
Like many schedules in South America, the 8:30 is more guideline than guarantee, but we use the time to buy some water and snacks at Tia, the great Ecuadorian supermarket chain, before climbing onto the bus around 8:45. The cost of the bus somewhere between 1.50 and 2.50.
The bus winds through Cuenca’s urban sprawl, leaving the Spanish feeling centre behind and re-entering a very Ecuadorian feel as it slowly leaves the city behind and climbs into the Andes mountains. Houses and human settlements grow more sparse as we enter the rugged majesty of south America’s spinal column.
We keep climbing and climbing up a winding yet well paved road (the president of ecuador has put a lot of money into his countries roads and it shows). As we go the landscape grows less green and rolling, more yellow and rough hewn, with jagged cliffs surrounding us, their deep grey stone mirroring the deep grey of the sky. We’re all ready for rain, we’ve been told barely a day passes without something significant falling from the sky. I also learn that the park is at quite an altitude, about 13,000 feet at it’s lower points. I’m nervous, as I’ve not dealt with hiking at that altitude before. Quito, the worlds second highest capital is only about 9,000.
5 minutes after seeing a sign marking us 6 Kilometers away from our entrance point, a guesthouse on one of the bigger lakes (there are countless in these mountains reminding me of Durmitor National Park in Montenegro,)
Of course nothing’s ever easy and the bus suddenly pulls to a grinding halt. The driver and the attendant come back into the passenger section and pull up a section of the floor, and lean over it. They pull their heads away just in time as water and mist coalesce and suddenly explode into the cabin, a hot spray of vapoury wetness.
Some of the passengers of the front climb out and we follow suit, waiting for the bus to be repaired until a friendly local tells us it’s only about 5 minutes down the road to the National Park Refugio where our hike will begin.
We start walking up the road and before long we encounter these fellows. Now I’m fully aware they are not llamas, but for the point of this blog we’ll just go ahead and call them llamas, because accuracy is for scientists.
After snapping some photos we continue up along the road and certainly beat our bus to the driveway down towards a national park lodge. The rocky mountains rise up and the British are reminded of Scotland, I’m imagining and endlessly more mountainous Nova Scotia, either way we’re on agreement in one thing. It’s damn beautiful.
We all make quick use of the facilities then register with the national park office, writing down our passport numbers and all our information on a sheet. We’ve read we’ll pay a 10 dollar entry fee, but the friendly man working there makes no mention of it whatsoever, so hooray, it turns out to be free.
After looking at maps we decide to follow trail number 1, the pink one, and the one recommended to us by Andres. It’s only 4.3 km but supposed to take 4 hours, and since I’m already fully aware of just how high we are I figure it could get interesting.
We head down a path towards the lake and find our way to a tree overhanging the lake. Russell and Dan both climb the slipper slope and pose for some photos, I’m content to wait for an easier pose atop a little hill behind the lake.
We continue along the very muddy and slippery mountain trail, (I fell once, others did as well) At any rate, we ascend past more tiny little lagoons and marvel at the sprawling scenery, wishing for clear skies for better photo ops. Blue sky is a rarity up here though, and hell at least it’s not pouring rain.
As we keep walking along the regularly sign posted trail we enter the reason for Andres recommendation. A bizarre and spectacular Polyepis forest unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Chris hit the nail on the head saying, “I feel like I’ve stepped into Narnia.”
It’s absolutely insane and we wander through this thick grove of twisted trees, stumbling over rocks and ducking and dipping through the gnarled branches unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The photos can’t capture the vast intricacy of it, but they’re better than nothing.
Before leaving the forest behind Russell leads the way up a small side path towards some small caves, and despite my fatigue I end up following, climbing over some boulders and descending down into some interesting if unspectacular caves. Not quite like those in Halong bay, or the massive system in Nerja in Southern Spain, but still cool.
We continue along out of the Polyepis forest and back to the dark almost mars like landscape (If mars had grass and water everywhere) and keep walking, weaving down a mountain side on the slick path and coming into view of another large lake. We enter a less dense grove of those strange Polyepis trees and descended down to a bridge over a babbling brook running down the slope of the hill. Here we take a detour and instead of going right we go left. You see, I’ve spotted a waterfall.
We head up the narrow trail cut into the steep grassy hillside and walk towards the small but still significant cascades. Frustratingly the path leads to the top of them, but my brother and I don’t let that stop us, backtracking and cutting down the hill from the path until we reach the base of the falls. Now let’s remember we’re 4000 meters up. Their’s a slight misty rain falling. The air is cold. I’m cold. The water is freezing. Russell dips his head, but I struggle mightily with leaving a waterfall unexplored, even if the last symptoms of sickness are still aging inside me. Still I climb right in, and like it always is, it’s worth it.
Dan then offends me deeply by posing for what he calls a normal picture. Well if climbing into frigid water in your underwear isn’t normal, then who wants to be normal!
I find another small set of rapids and small cascades and can’t help myself, climbing in and ascending to the biggest cascades of that set. As I emerge, my body burns with the cold, an oddly pleasant sensation. I put my clothes back on and soon I feel warmer than I did before getting to the falls, though I’m not sure how.
From here we head back to the path and continue along the slippery road following the river for a while before ascending past it. Here, somehow, we lose the trail but just keep going hoping to find it again. We climb a big hill which leaves me exhausted before meeting some other hikers who tell us there’s a parking lot about an hour away. Good enough for us.
We continue along the non pink trail and come into site of the main road up ahead, snaking up through the mountains in endless passbacks. We also see the parking lot, up a lot higher than our position. I’m dreading the climb as my leg is throbbing and my lungs are burning, (I need to get into better shape) That’s why I’m lucky when we somehow stumble back onto the pink trail and figure out a way to follow it down to the road. Climb averted!
We make it back to the road and walk along a while until we get to a straight section of road. There we toss up thumbs but before we can get picked up a bus pulls up, and that’s good enough for us. We climb in and take our seats enjoying the relaxation as we wind down out of the mountains and back to the almost european city of Cuenca. It’s Pizza hut for dinner, which is enjoyable if needlessly expensive and we pass the night playing cribbage of all things, since Chris, the hero that he is, travels with a Crib board. Thanks for teaching us mum and Dad, it made for a night of fun.
We go to bed too late, knowing it’s another fairly early bus the next morning, this time not to the national park (though I’d love to go back) But the the most important Incan site in Ecuador. The Ingapirca Ruins.
