On the way to Riobamba by bus, traveling with my new dear friends, Clayann and Colin (of the state of Washington,) we coincidentally hooked up with their friend Chris (of New Zealand,) and when getting off at the bus terminal we added Becky to the troop. “A gaggle of gringos” we were, adorned with our backpacks, filing down the street to find a hostel. It was my first time, ever, traveling with other backpackers. Even though we were much more noticeable, I felt like much less of an eyesore than when hunting down a hostel alone. We secured a place to stay, unloaded our bags, and explored the city together.
The next day, the 3 “C”s and I went on a shortened version of the famous train ride. It was the touristiest thing any of us had done on this trip. The train tracks are still being repaired, so we were actually in a small bus that rides on the railway. It was hardly worth waking at 5am for, but I did enjoy the stops in two local pueblos. The people were very welcoming to us, giving us smiles and genuine greetings of welcome. Plus, as always, trains are good for seeing the underbelly or backsides of buildings and neighborhoods, things never seen from the road.
The next day, we four had an adventure that I shall never, ever forget. It was like nothing I have ever done in this life. The previous day we had shopped around and procured a mountain biking tour. The owner was meticulous . . . as a way to put it. He talked with us for at least an hour and a half about the tour options, giving us every detail we could have possibly wanted, whether we did or not. That in itself was an experience! We had not even agreed to do the tour yet! Of course we did though. How could we not??
The next morning we all awoke early, to be picked up by our two fantastic guides in a truck loaded with all of the biking equipment one could desire. This is where we were joined by Martin (of Germany) and Diego (of Spain.) Thus, the 6 of us rode in the covered back of the truck on two comfortable benches all the way to the base of Chimborazo. Chimborazo is a snow-capped, inactive volcano, which has the highest peak in all of Ecuador at 6,310 meters, or 20,702 feet. Many say that it is the highest point in the world, relative to the Earth’s core. Once parked at the base of Chimborazo, next to the first of two refuges for climbers, we unloaded and hiked to the second refuge, arriving at 16,404 feet! Here there are glaciers and lots of snow. It was incredibly beautiful. After having some tea to help us adjust to the high altitude, we descended back to the first refuge and the truck, where our bikes were ready for us to ride.
We biked from 4,800 meters (15,748 feet) to 3,100 meters (10,170 feet.) This took us all day. We began our journey at 8:15am and it ended at 6:00pm, including the drive up. I was the only one in the group that was not an experienced mountain biker. In fact, this was my first try at it. We were told that the trails were good for beginners to advanced bikers. I beg to differ. This ride was indeed not for the faint of heart! For the first little while I was emitting a low scream on the outside, and a loud wail on the inside, as my hands gripped the handle bars for dear life, and I silently prayed that my front wheel would not hit one of the many, many large rocks and potholes on the path. Later, this silent wish repeated itself, replacing my simply not wanting to tumble head over ass, with my strong desire to avoid careening uncontrollably off of the mountain ledges directly to my right and my left. Occasionally, we would have to stop suddenly and hoist our bikes across wide cracks in the earth’s surface, or a small river.
As I became more comfortable, and more daring, I was following the two lead bikers. At this point, I was having the time of my life, leaving all of my fearful forecasts of broken limbs in the dust. I was flying down the path, carefree, with the wind whipping around me and breathtaking views all around. It was incredible! I cannot emphasize enough how naturally high I felt. Unfortunately, my confidence exceeded my ability. We came to a part in the path, which had deep ruts on either side of a raised, 3 foot wide ridge of grassy dirt. Riding in the ruts was scaring me, because I felt that a slight wrong turn of my wheel would throw me off. The lead rider, at this time, hopped up onto the middle, raised ridge of earth. That looked much safer to ride on. The second risk-taking rider, Colin, followed suit. It looked easy enough. Thus, I tried it and wiped out grandly. I fell hard onto my left side, smashing my hip onto the hard ridge, but the top part of my body fortunately landed in the soft dirt. I almost jumped up and said, “I’m allright!” but Clayann rushed to my side and said, lay there for a minute. This was good advice. The pain shot through me, and I feared that I’d fractured my hip. After a few moments, the majority of the pain subsided, and I realized that I was fine, only scratches and possibly a big bruise to come. This was the beginning of my discovering how well my brakes worked, and definitely learning not following Colin’s nor Chris’ example! Ha ha! (As side note, this new philosophy also held true for crossing the busy streets of the city. Either of the guys would dart out quickly to cross, and one would be very wise not to follow without carefully checking for cars first. Pedestrians have absolutely zero right-of-way here, cross-walks be damned.)
This mountain bike ride was one of the most adventurous and crazy things I have ever done in my life. I maaaaay try it again one day when I am feeling invincible. I am grateful for the experience, as I never would have done it without my new friends. They were incredibly supportive and praised me for how well I did. Thank you!
Pictures to follow as soon as I have 3 or 4 hours and descent wifi to post them. Refer back to this post at a later date to view them.