Once in El Tambo I checked our bearings with my brand new compass and we set off, passing farmhouses and trout farms and clambering around irrigation channels, all the while trying to ensure we were on the right side of the Tambo River. We climbed through fences, tripped, fell and stumbled in thick grass and deceptive terrain and trudged some swampland in our afternoon`s hike. The saturated vegetation and intermittent rain combined to completely drench me - with my hands so cold and bad circulation they became numb and almost useless.
Sometime in the first few hours of bush-bashing I realised I`d read the compass the wrong way and we`d started on the wrong side of the river in El Tambo. The track, fences and trout farm we actually not the official Trek de Condhor, but as we would soon find out not much was really. But as an unintended benefit we avoiding paying a $5 `community entrance fee`. Take that, Ecuadorian capitalist pigs.
Cold and wet we arrived at our campsite by Volcano Lake situated at the end of an interesting lava flow maybe 500m wide at our end and several kilometres long which apparently provides habitat for rarer flora like orchids. I discovered that Luke had packed with foresight, bringing such essential bare-bones hiking items like a bottle of Coke, a book and popcorn. He also brought a lot of sweet snacks and extra food which I was glad of as I had packed not expecting to be so cold or wet. After that was the cooking, the eating and the sleeping.
I managed to stay asleep until sunrise when I was awoken by heavy rain. A large fox visited us in the morning before we set off around the lake, crossing another stream and hiking into the paramo, fog and rain. This day was definitely a challenge. The climb into the hills was tiring with our heavy packs at altitude and having saturated shoes made every moment not moving cold and miserable. My hands again caught numb which made simple things like eating and pissing very difficult.
But the main challenge of the day was interpreting our minimal and sometimes major landmark-omitting guide notes and map and finding an trail which at times was obvious but often not there or just a cow track. Throughout the entire trek it was never marked or signed. It was quite distressing at times not knowing our location or even if we had taken a wrong turn several kilometres back and were hopelessly lost. What served us best and got us through in the end however were the clues left by fellow walkers like lolly wrappers, plastic bottles and occasional footprints.
The cloud forest and paramo impressed me once again with its extraordinary diversity of flowers, ferns, mosses, lichen, cushion plants, sedges, grasses and of course fungii. We saw a brocket deer and on the Antisana plain what I think were two condors. Due to the insistent fog and cloud unfortunately we saw very little impressive mountain scenery but upon our eventual arrival at the wide lake valley between the rocky crags of Antisanilla and the awe-inspiring base of Antisana (Ecuador`s 4th highest mountain at approximately 5,800m high) I began to appreciate the hype surrounding this trek.
It was difficult to sleep at above 4000m and we spent a rainless (yay!) night, awaking to a fresh 3 degrees. We packed and headed off with neither rain nor the threat of it and actually got to see the snowline of Antisana. The difficulty of the day`s hike was a complete turn-around from the day before as we marched down jeep tracks on a long easy decline in the pleasant weather. From this section until the end of the hike was basicaly one grand high plateau peppered with majestic snow-capped mountains and smaller ranges above wide paramo valleys. The scenery was grandiose.
The base of distant Cotopaxi soon appeared aswell as our destination for the day, stark Mount Sincholagua with its sheer red cliffs. Due to some issues with landowners we had to take a 2 or 3 hr detour of an alternative route along sealed roads, next to powerlines, past quarries and their trucks and observing hydroelectric dams. The Trek de Condhor may have impressive mountain scenery but it certainly isn`t a true wildernesss experience.
Eventually we turned west into a wide swamp valley and followed the electricity to another smaller valley with a community of maybe 10 humans and 74 dogs. Asking directions of the thick-accented campesinos didn`t help much so we just followed our noses, climbing about 400m up a steep high ridge. This turned out to be the wrong valley as we were able to observe from such heights so we bit the bullet and descended over thick tussocks and steep creek-banks as the crow flies towards Shutog Creek. By this time we were exhausted after about 23km of trekking including some steep ascents.
But from our guide notes we still had a way to go and soldiered on towards unseen Sincholagua. When we finally arrived at my desired but slightly impractical camping area we were knackered and ready to drop. Then it rained. Up until that point during the day we had had comparitively good weather with blue sky and occasionally even sunshine, and I thought this rain would be like the earlier rain, wafting away as soon as it had started. No. Slowly at first then rather heavily, but always freezing cold, the rain drenched us, our gear and the tent as we reluctantly pitched camp.
What a fantastic way to end the day... naaart! Rather peeved, I was. Oh well, we had arrived and were out of the rain which didn`t pull up for a few hours.
I woke to early light but was a little confused as it was only 530am, half an hour before sunrise. After exiting the tent I saw our beautiful hidden valley and mountain illuminated by the full moon against an almost completely clear sky. Then as dawn broke Antisana emerged from the cloud to reveal itself properly for the first time.
That day our goal was `to climb out of Shutog Creek`. Easier said than done. An endless marshland followed by a steep ascent into and over thick wet grass and shrubberies was enough to make me almost lose the plot, despite it being our first challenge of the day.
We hiked up, rested, hiked again, rested, then finally pushed ourselves to the top of the saddle at about 4400m and right under Sincholagua, where we were able to re-orient ourselves to the trek`s directions and map. We then crossed to another high pass, had lunch and began to descend into a long, wide valley towards Cotopaxi National Park.
All the morning we had been observing from various .................... angles the dark and gothic crags and shapes of Sincholagua. A clinging fog added impressive visual effects - I think it`s the coolest mountain I`ve ever seen. Cascading down and across our trail were rivers of red erosion scree which we traversed with caution. We saw many soaring raptors around the mountain but pretty sure none were big enough to be condors.
We followed a track down gently at first, then turning to a knee-punishing steep decline as we approached the northern boundary of the park, the Pita River. By then we were both wrecked, but ignored the excellent campsites and abandoned parks office and as such avoided the hefty park entry fee. Our next leg followed a long and wide strew of volcanic rocks to the south-west. We trudged wearily along various roads and creeks as they wound through the valley, slowly passing in front of Cotopaxi with its massive base capped in thick grey cloud. We eventually came to Lake Limpiopungo, a haven for wetland birds and other biodiversity, situated between the three peaks of Rumiñuahi and of course `The Big C` as its not really known. We ignored a few bus-loads of foppish tourists who pansied about looking at stuff and talking and also ignored the `no camping` sign to pitch tent next to the shallow, flat and extensive lake. We gratefully made use of a rain-free afternoon to dry out our lives. Later after our contemporary Australian cuisine of a modern fusion of rice, peanut butter and salt, Luke scored only about 50% with his long-anticipated popcorn, abandoning the cause due to the severe burning. As I lay awaiting sleep, distant mute lightning and the sound of nocturnal avians winging above us kept me entertained.
In the morning there was a gigantic canyon had appeared right in front of our tent. It turned out to be a mirage, mountains reflected in the mirror-glass surface of the lake. Cotopaxi stayed shrouded in mist as we set off early to avoid illegal camping complications. The gentle downhill wound past pine plantations, legitimate and decidedly better campsites and the park museum and restaurant. As we were pondering aloud the best way to avoid any contact with park rangers and having to explain our lack of entry receipt, Luke casually flagged down some passing American climbers and their brand new 4wd. They drove us all the way to and through the park entrance and through to the highway town of Lasso and we cruised on past the officials as they humbly let down the gate to let the rich gringos through with a deferrent smile, wave and `yes boss` thank you very much. Our 70km hike had come to an end in comfort.
