Chimborazo

On the morning of Wednesday, 12/29, we received a phone call from Jenny, Guillermo's daughter on Guillermo's phone.  She said that on the following day Guillermo was taking us on a trip, he would pick us up at 9:30am, but they didn't know where yet, and he would call later to let us know.  We waited until 11pm before we deduced that he wasn't going to call.  The following morning, without any indication of where we were going or what we were doing, we showered and gathered a few items, before we waited some more.  9:30am came and went.  At 9:50 Guillermo called to say he was waiting outside.  When I inquired about our destination and appropriate attire, he informed me we were going to Chimborazo, the mountain we discussed climbing at that Monday night dinner.  Except, because he was unable to borrow a car to ascend it, we would just be looking at it and we should bring a coat.  Once in the car, Guillermo informed us we needed to pick up Monica, his wife, because she wasn't ready to go when he left the house this morning.  Except, we ran an errand first and checked on a church-family who Guillermo had been unable to get in touch with via phone to make sure everything was okay.  Then, once at his house, we waited for Monica, who had finished preparing a pineapple upside down cake for a woman to pick up that day, to get ready.  Finally, about 10:30am or so, we were off.

The car ride took about an hour and a half.  Except there were some slight diversions.  No, I did not mean detours, I meant, diversions.  As part of their New Year's Eve celebration down here, men dress as women, stop cars on the road and do not let them pass until they have given money.  The money is supposedly for the viuda, the widower, whose wife is the year that's about to end and hence die.  It would seem they get ahead of themselves a little bit, since all of this nonsense is done before her death at midnight.  However, in short, this practice makes highway robbery legal.  Even on the day before New Year's Eve apparently.  We drove through Indian villages in the highlands and stopped every few miles or so to pay the tribute.  The widower can also represented by a paper-mache figure.

I confess the following photos were not taken until our return home, when we had recovered from out shock of the tradition.  There are several ways the individuals blocked the road.  In the first picture they used heavy rocks.  Commercial vehicles and taxis are forced to pay much more than private cars like us.  We got away with paying five cents or so.  They must pay from fifty cents to a dollar at each stop.  The truck below has already paid his way.

Some of the men, instead of dressing as women, wore creepy masks.  The most frightening was a masked teenager wielding a late 19th century rifle; unfortunately, we were to slow on the draw to get a picture of him.

Others used logs.

The most dangerous form is rope.  We passed two little boys alone holding a rope across the road.  Guillermo said that not everyone sees the rope.

Often, many villagers congregated on the side of the road to watch the affair.

One of the Indian villages we drove through, Pilahuin, had pigs like this lining the street on either side.  It seemed each family had one hanging outside their residence along with cooking materials.  Notice that chunks of the pig have been skinned.  The skin is particularly prized when it is fried.  The pigs are for sale for tourists and any passerby.

We passed a great deal of llamas and alpacas.  The difference between them is that alpacas are smaller and only come in one color, tan.  I do not think we have any photos of them.  So, all of the following are llamas.  The hut you see in this first picture is built for the children who watch over the animals in all sorts of weather.  It provides them some protection from the elements, primarily a lot of wind.

This is the mountain, Chimborazo, we drove to.

The llamas were particularly daring the closer we came to the mountain.  They strolled right to the edge of the road.  Also, Guillermo stopped the car every time we saw llamas to take pictures.  He might have taken more than us.  That is why we have so many.  

As we got closer, the mountain become more impressive and the cloud cover greatly increased.

We were in the clouds.  This is where the paved road ended.  Guillermo, who did not think his car would be able to make it up the gravel road, was pleasantly surprised to find the roads in improved condition.  Visibility, however, was practically non-existent.  The below shot, comparatively, is quite clear to what we soon ascended into.  The object in the photo, by the way, is Andy who desperately had to go to the bathroom.

 

When the ascent of switch-backs ended and Guillermo's manual, Mazda Coupe finally reached the end of the road we were at the first shelter on the mountain.  It was nearly 1pm, for lunch we bought Guillermo and Monica tea, we had hot cocoa, and a package of something equivalent to Ritz crackers.  Lunch of champions.  Afterward, Monica retired to the car to wait while Andy, Guillermo and I climbed to the second shelter, about 500 feet in elevation up.  Every fifty yards, I found a rock to sit on and to rest.  Initially, Guillermo said he'd let us climb alone, since he figured we would climb much faster than he could.  I quickly rid him of that assumption and he started to point out the good resting rocks for me.  He also sang a couple tunes, maybe to take my mind off things.  It reminded Andy and I of the time we skinned up Big Mountain with Dr. Erickson.  When I faded, Jay climbed behind me and sang the rest of the way up.  Here is me on one of my many resting rocks with Guillermo behind me.

Now, neither Andy or I have done any cardiovascular activity since we've arrived here.  Yet, our legs seemed okay.  Rather, it was almost like no matter how controlled, slow, or deep our breathing, we weren't getting enough air.  When we finally reached the second shelter, the sign said 5,000 meters, roughly 16,400 feet above sea level.  That explained it.  It began to snow lightly which was very welcome having missed out on winter weather back home.  Here is part of the mountain view.

Us outside the second shelter. 

The view from the rock we were seated on looking up beyond the shelter.

The same direction as the above picture with the shelter for reference.

Exhilarated and content in the elements.

In front of the rest of the climb to the peak.  Same direction as the other shelter photo.

 Keeping your footing was a little difficult with all the rock.  Chimborazo is an inactive volcano, so much of the rock is volcanic!

Going down, despite the burning calves and staring at our foot placement, felt great in terms of respiration and some accomplishment.  In fact, we had even passed a native man on the way up who managed, believe it or not, to sit on more rocks than I did.  The fun of it was not even dampened on Sunday when Guillermo opened his sermon with the story of our adventure, yet stating that one can always go farther.  He connected that to farther into your faith and donations to the church, though for Andy, it simply meant peak-bagging.

On our way home the views were picturesque in the afternoon sun.

The hills that bordered much of the roads.

When we returned to Ambato, once again passing through the tolls, Monica wanted to eat at the mall.  So, despite the fact that we would have liked nothing more than get home and eat there, we went to the mall and had disgusting fast-food tacos.  Not the perfect ending to a great day, but a great day nonetheless.