Getting Closer to Home

We can all tell just by looking at the calendar and by looking at the odometer on the Toyotas that the expedition is drawing to a conclusion. We are so close that border crossings and navigation around the infamous Darien Gap aside, we could probably drive right back to the US in less than a week if we did it in a straight shot from our current position in northern Ecuador. Aside from some of the obvious reminders that we have successfully completed the lion’s share of our around the world expedition, we are also starting to see a few subtle yet prominent examples of just how close we are to home, especially here in Ecuador.

Probably the most significant visual cue of just how close the United States looms on the horizon is the types of vehicles we are encountering on the road. In China, Russia, Central Asia and even Europe and Africa, American autos were pretty scarce and it was only on the rarest of occasions that we passed by a car or truck that had previously rolled out of an American assembly line. (I guess if it were not for the recent federal bailouts and aid packages to some of the American auto manufacturers, seeing American autos on the streets and highways of the US might have also started to become a rare sight.) We did see a few American automobile brands throughout the southern reaches of South America, but it was not really until we crossed in Ecuador that we began to see an unfamiliar and unusually large concentration of them. Not only were we seeing Ecuadorian drivers careening down the roads in Chevrolets and Fords, the cars are American but the drivers are still very much local, a lot of them were behind the wheels of full-blooded, full-bodied, honest-to-God, American SUV’s. Ford 150’s are plentiful in Ecuador as are Chevy Suburbans, Tahoes and Silverado pickups. We have always managed to turn heads on the expedition with our V8 engines, but in Ecuador, the V8 is a much more common occurrence. (It also helps that supreme unleaded gasoline is only $1.98 a gallon throughout the country) Even though Toyota is officially a Japanese auto manufacturer, the FJ Cruiser is pretty much all-American in concept and we have seen more than our fair share of them in Ecuador as well.

It is not just the types of vehicles on the roads in Ecuador that remind us quite a bit of home, but also the local currency. For those of you who do not know, in January 2000, in an effort to address some severe economic problems that the country was experiencing at the time, Ecuador officially adopted the US dollar as its national currency. That’s right, we are paying for everything in US dollars right now. We are pulling crisp US 5’s 10’s and 20’s out of the ATM’s and even in the smallest Ecuadorian villages, you can buy an outstanding lunch of freshly caught trout with good old American greenbacks. There are now a few more colors in the recently printed US bills, but they are still essentially green. Actually, using US currency has proven to be a bit tricky since our minds are so use to doing mathematical equations each time we purchase anything and we are constantly jumping on the XE currency converter to try and determine what the current exchange rate is at any given point in time.

Glimmers of home are also being broadcast on local television here in Ecuador. I am not talking about the trashy American reality shows on VH1 or MTV, those have unfortunately permeated into the program schedules of television networks around the world. In this case, I am talking about sports. American football, for all intensive purposes, ceases to exist outside the United States, being replaced instead by a game of the same name but with much more international fame and popularity. It was a total shock to turn on the television the other night to find that ESPN Latin America was broadcasting the Sunday Night NFL game between the Denver Broncos and the San Diego Chargers. Usually, you have to seek out an ex-pat, American sports nut who has decided to open a bar in order to watch any American football games outside of the country. To see the Broncos playing on a regular, non-satellite equipped television set in a $5 a night hotel room further served as a poignant indicator that we are not that far from home, however, the $5 per night rack rate was also a strong reminder that we still have a way to go before we actually do get there.

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Photos of the Week: Shamanic Spa & Canyoning

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First, at the Monte Selva Eco Park near Puyo, Ecuador, we had an afternoon of pampering at Shamanic Spa.  Still near Puyo, and on New Years Eve, we went canyoning to regain our manhood.

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D-day came and went.

The last few days we have been at Tierra Del Volcan, which in English means, The Land of the Volcanoes. It is a partnership that Fundacion Paramo, an aid organization that works just south of Quito here in Ecuador, has set up with a few Haciendas around the base of Cotopaxi.  Cotopaxi is the highest volcano in the world and the surrounding area has a feel reminiscent of an enchanted valley out of a fantasy novel.  With the lush green countryside and sweeping vistas, the surrounding four volcanoes create a sense of grandeur that is a drastic change from the think jungles we just visited around Banos.

DSC_0057 This drastic change set the stage for Darrell’s exit from the crew of The World by Road today. Many have left us in the past, but no one has left us with the style that good old D-day has today.  Since the hacienda that we are staying at is 22km from the nearest place to catch a bus to Quito and no one here was on their way into town, Darrell was forced to pack up his bags and leave on foot.  About 20 minutes walk from the Hacienda El Provenir is the village of Pedregal, where Darrell would would find his ride into Machachi, the main town.

At about nine in the morning Bouey, Craig and I geared up for a horseback ride in full Ecuadorian getup complete with fuzzy chaps and ponchos. Since Darrell’s ride in the village did not leave until 11:45, he saw us off from the Hacienda. DSC_0037 We mounted up on our horses, rode off toward the volcano above, and an hour later he was off down the wide valleys of Cotopaxi with only his backpack and small satchel.  With low lying clouds and mist in the background, he strolled his way down the old cobblestone roads to the local village, where few foreigners ever set foot and caught his ride out of here.

Darrell decided to leave us in order to take a month of Spanish lessons and do a homestay with a family in the coastal town of Manta. From there he is hoping to make us way up through Colombia and Venezuela eventually heading to Guyana in search of an old house that part of his family used to live in decades ago.  So who is the aforementioned Craig? I guess you could call him Darrell’s replacement. Craig Johnson hails from Chicago and has been with us for about a week now, you can check out his bio here. So that makes our crew only four, as Laura has gone her own way as well.  Soon we will have 3 more recruits bringing us back up to seven, but for now I will leave their identities a mystery.  So welcome Craig, and good luck D-day on your future adventures, you will be missed as part of the team.

The road Darrell walked on away from the Hacienda (Only it was misty and overcast when he left)

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Missing one Darrell…

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Lost World

Machu Picchu, The Lost City of the Incas, one of the seven wonders of the world. The name Machu Picchu alone conjures up romantic images of exploration and historical discovery. Unfortunately for me, Machu Picchu only aroused a mild level of excitement, mostly due to its aforementioned notoriety.  The seven wonders of the world, (although it now seems as though inclusion into this elite list is purely the result of a subjective internet popularity contest more so than the actual historical or architectural significance of these locations, especially since there is now a seven natural wonders list, a seven manmade wonders list, a seven modern wonders list, etc.) are without a doubt some incredible places, but international fame and recognition for these relics of human achievement and natural beauty is a double edged sword. Personally, I feared that in the case of Machu Picchu, as was the case at the Great Wall of China, all of the preconceived feelings I hoped to experience while exploring such a place; exoticness, mystery, awe, reflection, would all be drowned out by the voices of thousands of other tourists thus extinguishing all possibility of an intimate encounter there. To compound the matter, Machu Picchu is geographically inaccessible by private vehicle which means we would not have the flexibility we normally enjoy with the Toyotas and along with everyone else, be at the mercy of the timetables of the local train to Aquas Calientes. I am sure Hiram Bingham knew that his discovery in the mountains outside Cusco, Peru in 1911 was extremely significant on multiple levels, but I wonder if he could have imagined that less than a century later, over half a million people a year would be wandering around the grounds in what is arguably the most popular tourist attraction in the world. Still, Machu Picchu was definitely a place I wanted to at least see once in my lifetime and it would be silly to pass by so close without giving it a chance, so I proceeded with guarded optimism.

We did have one thing going for us and that was the fact that it was December and it was now the off season for touring Machu Piccu because it was also the rainy season in this part of Peru. I think we all hoped that the rain would somehow dampen the will of a lot of other people planning on making the journey out to Machu Picchu and that only a fraction of the 2,500 average daily visitors would be there when we arrived. It was a reasonable assumption and it had paid off before in Cambodia when Steve and I had the privilege of exploring the ruins of Angkor Wat during the rainy season pretty much in complete isolation. The rainy season did succeed in whittling down the tourist numbers quite a bit that day, however, it also served to obscure any of the postcard panoramas of Machu Picchu we had all come to expect and had been anticipating on the ride there. When our tour bus reached the top of the narrow, switchback studded road from Aguas Calientes also known affectionately as the Hiram Bingham Highway, the entire lost city of Machu Picchu was pretty much lost once again, this time in a thick blanket of cloud, fog and mist. It was a bit of a let down, and I could hear some other people on the bus complaining about how Machu Picchu was the pinnacle of their two week vacation and because of the weather, they would not be able to take that “perfect” photo to prove to all of their family, friends and coworkers back home that they had actually been there.

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Fog obscures most of the city of Machu Picchu

Before coming to Machu Picchu, the buzz going around the hostel and much of Cusco was that the hike up to Waynapicchu (the large, ominous, jungle covered mountain towering behind the lost city in most of the photos of Machu Picchu) was well worth the exhausting hike for the view it offered. Given the current state of the weather when we arrived, I do not know what kind of views we were hoping to catch at the top of Waynapicchu, but I guess for lack of anything else to see at that point that at the bottom, we all decided to head directly to path to the top. It was obvious at the bottom of the trail that the combination of steep jungle track and jagged steps carved out of sheer vertical cliffs equaled one difficult hike to the top of Waynapicchu. The signs at the entrance gate strongly suggesting that anyone with a heart condition seriously reconsider the attempt also reinforced our initial assessment that it was a bitch of a hike. Due to the steepness of the trail and the limited space to maneuver, even in the high season officials only let 400 people a day up to the top of Waynapicchu… 200 at seven in the morning and another 200 at ten. That day, there were only about 20 of us standing in the morning drizzle, each of us searching the face of the person standing next to us for some confirmation that the hike to the top was actually going to be worth the effort it necessitated. After printing our name, passport number, age and nationality in the guest register (although it probably serves more as a listing of personal information for local authorities should someone not survive the climb to the top or the climb back down… several tourists fall to their death each year from Waynapicchu),we started out on the two hour soggy slog up the mountain.

By the time we reached the top of Waynapicchu, the rain had actually stopped, but the lost city was still lost in a thick soup of fog. In fact, you could not really see much of anything which served as a false sense of security because the thickness of the fog masked the danger lurking just beyond the slippery rocks and the crumbling walls, themselves barely discernable in the haze. So here we were, 15 or so people (I do not know what happened to the other five individuals who were in line earlier that morning) sitting on top of a damp, slick, mossy rock the size of a broom closet that was balanced precariously on the top of a narrow mountain surrounded on all sides by a thousand meter vertical cliff.  Everyone who completed the climb to the top was now jockeying for a position on the rock only to peer into the endless white in search of any glimpse of Machu Picchu. At this point, any glimpse of the city from our vantage point we felt would redeem us in the eyes of all the other tourists wandering around out of sight somewhere down below. Hiram Bingham did not discover Machu Picchu in a day and as we have learned many times over during this trip, patience is a virtue that brings many rewards. Keeping this wisdom in mind, all of us were prepared to wait it out under the assumption that somehow, some miracle would occur and the fog would lift to reveal what we had all come to see.

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Steve posing in front of where Machu Picchu should be

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Some of the ruins of Waynapicchu

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The early morning weather blocked the view of pretty much everything


It was a nervous wait on top of that rock. 15 people anxioulsy awaiting the parting of the clouds and because the rock was just about the most uncomfortable place to wait anywhere you can imagine, people were continuously shifting about. There is nothing wrong wi

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My favorite last day of the year…ever.

The real blog will come later today or tomorrow.  We are about to leave Banos on our way to our next stop here in Ecuador meeting with an NGO that helps to preserve the rainforest.  Since nothing is open here on New Years Day morning, I am sitting outside a cafe on the sidewalk using the Wifi. Yesterday was the best way I could imagine finishing a year.

We started the day with some canyoning, followed by fresh trout cooked by the coolest local guy ever, followed by a dip in the thermal baths, and all culminating with huge bonfires and the most out of hand New Years in my history.

So for lack of a place to write more, I would like to say Happy New Year to everyone.

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