Jan 27--Hike Back to El Suspiro

Friday January 27 

This morning I awake at 4:15 per usual, and on my way to the toilets find Amelia holding up Isadora who is crouched at the trailhead panting and moaning. When I get back to the trailhead, I find Susan waiting on the other side of the orange tape. She is also tight-lipped with illness and running a high fever.

Nonetheless, we break up camp.

I eat a stale roll and have a hot cup of plain water for breakfast (we are out of coffee and the tea selections do not appeal)—in the dark, of course, and hemmed in by the tents of those Ecuadorian staff who were flooded out the night before.

The muleteers arrive and we pack our bags, dismantle and pack up our soggy tents—I find that mine is wet also with water that has come through the window and dripped from the thatch—and carry our bags downstairs to the waiting muleteers. They stuff as many as possible into plastic bags and simply drape the others onto the pack animals.

We load our day packs, fill our water bottles, and then take photos of  the whole gang before starting our arduous trek back to El Suspiro, where, this time, we will catch a bus back to Loma Alta and then the Eco Lodge. Donna and Ricardo are practically salivating at the thought of the Eco Lodge, its showers and pool. Ricardo has not liked being unshaven and dirty, says he’s used to taking as many as three showers a day in Brazil.

From left: Cathy, Ricardo, Donna, me, Erica, Marlene, Evelyng, Mauricio, Dawn, Chas, Susan Wethington; kneeling: Carlos and Alejandro

As head “EMT”  I am in charge of wrapping Marlene’s legs so that she can make it down to the river where she will then ride a mule or horse the rest of the way to El Suspiro. I notice that our muleteers have even replaced the rough wooden saddles on some of the pack animals with something resembling a real leather saddle for those who will ride out. Originally Susan’s plan was to have all of us ride out once we reached the river, but that meant far too many hired animals. (I’m happy. My bad hip could not straddle a horse or mule.)

But, back to Marlene’s legs. She cannot get her feet and legs into high boots. Her legs and feet are far too swollen and sore. The mud on the trail after the rain and after the pack animals have negotiated it several times is knee deep in places. Marlene cannot ride a pack animal down to the river, the trail is too steep and treacherous. (Susan tells us of a volunteer who fell off a mule and broke her arm several expeditions ago.) We do not want Marlene’s ruptured bites to get dirty. What to do? I have only three 4x4’s.  But I do have stretchy medical tape with me and also a packet of panty liners. These I wrap around Marlene’s legs, sticky side out, tape them in place, and cover all with plastic and knee socks. Marlene manages to get her feet into her unlaced trail shoes, and—good sport that she is—she grabs her trail stick and is ready to go.

I have never been on this trail so it is all new to me. Our entire trek back to El Suspiro reminds me of the scenery in the movie Romancing the Stone. Yes the trail is steep and yes, it takes some careful negotiating to get down it. I am very reliant on my mist net/trail stick. Surprisingly, no one falls and gets mud soaked. The mud goes over the top of Marlene’s wrapped legs at times, but she manages. 

After about three hours, we come out at the river. Here are several animals with riding saddles on them waiting for us. Pascual, who must be in town for the graduation of one of his children, mounts a horse, says good-bye, and leaves us. Those of us who have worn our day packs relinquish them to a pack animal and feel light as air. Marlene and Susan, who, poor thing, is in misery with her fever, mount horses and ride. (Isadora, Amelia, Mauricio, Carlos and Evelyng have stayed at camp to finish packing up. They hike and ride out maybe an hour behind us, Isadora still running her fever. 

Later, when we are discussing the huge portions of food we are served, Carlos tells me that when they reach the river he throws himself in. Then he strips off his shirt to let it dry as he hikes along. Said he was appalled when he saw that he was getting a “tummy.” Yeah, right!  Even with mountains of rice, I think that I may have lost a pound or two. 

Alejandro leads us down, keeping us on the correct route. He also points out tick balls, slippery rocks, trail shortcuts, Blue Morpho and glasswing butterflies, bird’s nests, etc. This 70-year old man who speaks very little English is quite amazing.

Much of our walk now is directly in the river. I am thankful for my rubber boots with good grippy soles. The water also serves to cool the feet. When I put my boots on this morning I could barely squeeze my swollen feet into them. Somehow on the long, mud-sucking, narrow, vine-covered, steep trail down to and along the cool river, my boots have acted like compression hose. I can feel my feet moving inside my boots. When we eventually get to El Suspiro, I take off my boots and, voilá, my feet are magically normal for the first time in two weeks. I almost like my boots after this . . . but not quite. Later, I gladly turn them over to Carlos, who claims them as though they were gold, never letting them get too far from his person.

On our hike out we see several lines of leaf-cutter ants, the tick balls that Alexjandro points out to us, pollywogs, huge Blue Morphos, a Green Kingfisher and lots of other birds, including common and cattle egrets, and in one place, Yellow-rumped Cacique nests hanging near the water (above). On one semi-cleared hill (outside the Reserve) we stop to stare at a huge kapok tree. These are the trees with the buttressed roots. This one is remarkable because it is not in the center of the forest and we can plainly see how large and tall it is. It dominates the forest jutting far above the other trees.

Kapok Tree

The Kapok tree is a Ceiba (pronounced SAY-ba) tree. This species, Ceiba pentandra to be specific, is a majestic tropical tree whose giant limbs support its umbrella-shaped crown. The limbs are laden with epiphytes and provide a home for countless species of animals. Birds feed and nest in the tree's high perches, mammals use the enormous limbs as aerial highways, frogs raise their tadpoles in the tiny pools that collect in bromeliads, and insects reach the peak of their diversity in the canopy of giant trees like the Ceiba.

Ceiba trees are typically emergent, meaning their large umbrella-shaped canopies emerge above the forest canopy. They are thus among the tallest trees in the tropical forest reaching as high as 197 feet.  Their thick columnar trunks often have large buttresses. Young trunks and branches are armed with thick conical spines, and are often green due to photosynthetic pigments.

The ancient Maya of Central America believed that a great Ceiba tree stood at the center of the earth, connecting the terrestrial world to the spirit-world above.  The long thick vines hanging from its spreading limbs provided a connection to the heavens for the souls that ascended them.  Even today, these grand trees are regularly spared when forests are cut—it is a common event to see lone, isolated Ceiba trees like we saw proudly spreading their shady branches high above a pasture or agricultural field, a relic of the great forests that once were there.

The river we are hiking along is sometimes broad and shallow, sometimes narrow and rocky. I spy fossils in some of the rocks we pass. but do not have time to examine them. We are hiking at a high rate of speed, our goal to reach El Suspiro by noon. Families have again contracted to provide us lunch, our washing women and muleteers need to be paid, we need to sort out our gear, and catch our fringe-bedecked bus back to Loma Alta and from there to the Eco Lodge. Yes! Our thoughts turn to the Eco Lodge often . . . particularly Ricardo’s and Donna’s thoughts, the two of whom are leading this charge out of the forest and toward the comforts of civilization again. With my feet back to normal, I too am feeling good and hiking strongly once more. Those of us who have been hiking ahead with Alexjandro are setting a stiff pace. Not even veteran backpackers Dawn and Chas keep up with us.

Eventually Alejandro comes to a complexity in the trail and decides to wait for Susan and Marlene on their mounts, and for those hikers who are keeping a slower pace behind us. This is good because shortly after all catch up with us, we round a bend to come upon a Purple-crowned Fairy Hummingbird drinking and bathing in a pool in the river. Wow!  Susan, who has been riding with her eyes shut in a half swoon, manages to get her binoculars on it and identify it. The sighting seems to perk her up, as does the fact that we have only about two more hours of hiking.

Purple-crowned Fairy; photo Glenn Bartley

As we near town, we come across the flocks of Pacific Parrotlets that we had seen on leaving town two weeks previously. They are gregarious and noisy birds but a pretty green and blue and a bit larger and heavier than a parakeet.

Pacific Parrotlet

We repeatedly hike alongside, in, and across the snaking river. Eventually we come to a narrow, potholed, dirt road that could possibly be navigated by a SUV as it, too, uses the river as its route and often runs along, beside, or across it. When we are about a mile or so from El Suspiro, along this rut bumps our fringe-bedecked bus, the driver and a couple of kids in the front grinning from ear to ear! The driver had been encouraged by the villagers to come and get us—our lunches have been prepared and are getting cold!  God forbid that we should eat cold food on such a hot day. Hot soup and mountains of rice and veggies await us. None of us can stand the thought, but we do not want to offend these gracious and caring townspeople. Besides, we know that we present a rare (twice yearly) economic opportunity for them.

Donna and I pair off for lunch. We eat in the poorest home I have been in. Outside, a pig with its dugs hanging down, snuffles in the mud searching for any speck of sustenance. Chickens scratch in the dust. The hut contains a small concrete pad just inside the door and on this sits a plastic table and two plastic chairs, next to a hammock that is stretched across one corner. Through a doorway to a small room beyond, we can see a bed with both head and footboard that just fits the room. One has to get into the bed from the doorway. In the other end of the room is what appears to be a broken down oven, a small gas stove, similar to a camp stove, and a rudimentary sink and counter, all situated in the midst of rubble—chunks of concrete and concrete block—and trash.  Two children, a girl of about 5 and a boy of perhaps 3, seem to belong to this household. Both giggle and peek curiously at us through the open window.

Obviously this woman has gone way out of her way to prepare a large meal for the gringos. We began with chicken soup—broth with a piece of chicken, potatoes, carrots, and a few tiny broccoli springs in it—and move on to a plate of rice and potato salad. (Apparently in Ecuador, carbo loading is an acceptable way of life.) Though we struggle to ask for small portions, our portions are huge! 

When Donna asks for a cold beverage, the woman leaves and rushes off down the street. I take advantage of this time to photograph the bright-eyed kids in the window, the pig, and the interior of the hut. These photos are, of course, lost with all the rest of my Cloud Forest photos. When our hostess returns, she has me take a photograph of her little girl (the boy is not hers) standing in the doorway and holding an elaborately framed picture of Christ. She explains that her daughter has been very excited about our visit and begged to wear her best dress and to have her hair braided and secured with her favorite yellow pompom ribbons. Sadly, these photographs are the only ones that I can’t really replace and that no other volunteer will be able to send me. I’m bummed!

Donna and I manage to eat about half of our meal. Then our hostess shows us some simple wire and bead rings for $1. We each buy one to help her out. Her daughter is instructed to run and get some earrings from somewhere. She returns with long, dangling, gaudy earrings, which we decline to buy. Finally we are free to leave. The woman and her child follow us back to Mauricio’s bakery. Here we wait for Carlos, Evelyng, and their group to arrive. When they do, we all gather in the little courtyard of a store across the “square” and Evelyng helps us settle up with our washerwomen (many of whom are very young girls pleased to earn their $5 or $10) and then Evelyng settles with the muleteers.

I am sitting on a narrow bench with two other volunteers. The little girl from lunch is draped over me examining the holes in my ears, and her mother sits behind her. On the other end of the bench is a young boy. Suddenly the leg holding the far end of the bench breaks and the bench collapses tossing all of us to the ground. The boy on the end narrowly escapes getting pinched between the end of the bench and the ground.  Much gleeful laughter. They are probably still laughing about how all of those enormous gringos broke the store bench.

Exhausted horse and muleteers on arrival in El Suspiro; that's Mauricio right, stripped down to his underwear; Alejandro inspecting himself for ticks

We return to the bakery and find the whole village assembled again. Our bus pulls to the front of the bakery and the drivers begin loading our things onto the roof. Isadora is going to ride this bus to a hospital in Valdivia. She gets on with her grandchild. Several women dressed and coifed immaculately in “Sunday best” for a trip to the big city also board the bus, as do all of us and several other townspeople. Men who do not fit in the bus ride up on top of the luggage on the roof. This is a high time for all of them. One small boy cries bitterly when he is not allowed to ride the bus.

Our ride from El Suspiro to Loma Alta is comical. There are many river crossings, each at the bottom of a steep hill. The driver guns the motor each time we cross and plows through the water. Usually he gets only halfway up the hill on the opposite side before the bus quits. Then we roll back down (one time nearly rolling off the edge of the road) and the driver tries again and again until he makes the grade. You’ve got to remember that this bus is packed with people and luggage.

When we roll through the dirt roads of the little towns we must pass through, we are again faced with “sleeping policemen” and the bus again lurches and struggles over each, honking at pedestrians, cyclists, and animals in its path. It’s truly a comic adventure and I am again reminded of Romancing the Stone. I resolve to view the movie again when I get home.

Pacific Pygmy Owl

Finally, after picking up and dropping off people at each little village and wayside, we turn onto the road leading up to the Eco Lodge. Yippee! The guys on the roof get down and unload our luggage and we each hurry off to our cabins, the same cabins and roommates we shared on the way to the research site two weeks ago. We also see the same Vermillion Flycatcher and Pacific Pygmy Owl that we saw the first time.

Poor Susan is very ill with fever and aches. She takes some clothes up to the office to be laundered and then takes a shower and gets into bed. I take some clothes up too and then take a shower myself before going to the pool. It would never do to get into the pool wearing so much sunscreen, bug repellant, sweat, and dirt. In fact we have discussed this on the bus and everyone showers before meeting at the pool. Ricardo emerges looking like something out of a magazine, teeth gleaming, hair slicked back.

Vermillion Flycatcher

Chas buys me a beer and we all kick back, marveling at the abrupt difference between awaking at our primitive camp this morning and the relative luxury of our Eco Lodge accommodations now. After a bit, Erica and Donna walk down the hill to Valdivia. Donna wants to call her boyfriend, Andrew, in the UK and remind him to “Hoover” their apartment and to change the bed linens before she returns.  She has really missed her cell phone. When they get back, Erica walks down the hill with Marlene to keep her company. Marlene visits a clinic where they tell her that she is having an allergic reaction to her bites and that all the well-meaning women did in the Cloud Forest was wrong. They give her a shot and some medication.

Susan manages to join us for dinner on the open patio at 7. We enjoy a delicious dinner of fish and rice, sliced tomatoes, onions and peppers, with dessert of a shell with orange sherbet in it. We sip our coffee on the patio overlooking the sea and the picturesque cove upon which Valdivia sits. Two hang gliders repeatedly fly back and forth on the cliff’s updrafts, almost at eye level. The swallows dip down for a sip of freshwater from the pool. Brown pelicans and magnificent frigate birds glide overhead. Life is good.

Sunset from the Eco Lodge veranda