Sneak Peak! Expedition Part 1

Bikes loaded, with everything we need for the coming weeks of expedition

After two weeks of preparations and getting used to life on the farm, we set off on our month long expedition with instructors Mathias, Nicole, Nora, and Tupak. Along the way, we were joined by guest instructors Hannah Billian and Thomas. This blog will cover the first half of our expedition, and the second half will come in another installment when we return from our big adventure. Enjoy!

Bryony leads the pack

We "Surly" love biking!

Nicole- powering up the endless hills

On our first day of expedition we followed an abandoned railroad, “La Ciclovia,” on bikes. We stopped for lunch at the head of a huge tunnel set within a mountain of rock. 

Tikko taught us a new song:

“Way up out there in the night

The melodies flow like water

The women sing of moons delight

And the men all sing of honey”

Tikko- bringer of song!

We sang this together in the mouth of the tunnel, our voices echoing off the walls. While we sang, we could feel a cold breeze coming from the other end of the tunnel.

Those first days of biking were spent riding on the sides of huge canyons, into passageways with ferns growing off the sides and through many difference pueblos (towns), towards the volcano Cayambe. Sometimes, we would pass through just as the children were going to or getting out of school, the streets filled with families.

The most beautiful trails

Jule

One day, while biking on the ridge of a mountain we hit what Mathias called, “The Grater.” Bushes covered with brutal thorns enveloped the trail. With no other available path to take, we were forced to head straight through the grabbing spikes. Screams and shouts were heard all along the ridge. When we all finally came out, we discovered that every one of us were covered in fairly deep scratches. That afternoon, it began to pour. It rained so hard that the ditches turned to streams in a matter of minutes. As the rain slowed, we came upon a small village. In the distance, an amplified voice called out, “Manderinas, Naranjas, Manderinas, Naranjas,” over and over again. We all became extremely excited, for we knew this voice was coming from inside a truck, full of mandarins and oranges to be sold. We raced towards the noise and intercepted the truck. We ate for a long time, standing over our bikes in the middle of the road, yellow-orange peels collecting all around our feet. The sweet citrus tasted wonderful after many miles of biking.

Steep!

Studying on the river's edge

On our last day, we crossed the equator, entering the northern hemisphere. Pastures covered the mountains like quilt work and a strong wind made us sway on our bikes. We biked into the highlands, slowly creeping up the base of the great volcano Imbabura. It felt almost as if we were floating above the earth, we were up so high. Communities surrounded us, small gatherings of houses and fields sloping up the mountain. When we arrived at San Clemente, the community where Yuriana (one of our group members) and Tupak (one of our teachers) live, we were welcomed by a circle of families, all people who would be sharing their homes with us over the next couple days.

A much needed rest on the side of the road

It became obvious very quickly how kind and warm the people of San Clemente are. They welcomed all of us into their homes with ease and showed so much care for our well being, always wanting to talk and spend time with us. The women of the community make beautiful embroidery for their living, and one day they taught us how to make these beautiful stiches on shirts of our own. We spent hours in the grass together, embroidering little designs and flowers onto shirts. The women were so patient, and shared this beautiful work with us in a very open way. On our last night, our host parents gave us traditional clothing to dress in, and we all walked to Yuri’s house. There we had a night of dancing, music, and sweet cinnamon tea.

Yuriana, sharing her home of San Clemente with us

Admiring the locally crafted bracelets

Luke and Harry- lending a hand in San Clemente

Nica, Charly, and Tikko, helping in the community

The next day we hiked farther up the mountain until we were above the clouds, to a cabin at 3,500 meters (the highest we had been yet). It was beautiful up there, with golden grass all around. At night by the fireplace, out the window we could see the twinkling lights of the city of Ibarra down below us, and the shadow of Imbabura’s peak above us. We left before the sun rose that day and climbed to the summit of Imbabura. We swished through long grass called “paja” for hours. Hannah said it looked like a pastel painting, the way it shimmered and completely covered the earth. Soon we had climbed into the clouds, and new plants grew all around. There were strange ferns and colorful flowers. Jule called it an alien world. We clambered over rocks, deep ravines to either side of us, until we finally reached the top. We rested for awhile, completely surrounded by gray. All of a sudden, the sun broke through and blue sky and warmth returned for a split second, before the clouds surrounded us once again. The moment we came out of the clouds, on the way down the mountain was magical. We sat in the deep paja for a long time and looked at the sky, the mountains, and the cities all around.

Looking out over the countryside

Charly, summiting Imbabura

Bryony- showing off her ridge climbing skills

Harry- pushing through the challenges of the high altitude

Success!

The next morning, we loaded up our bikes and dropped down into the city of Ibarra. We slowly made our way through the maze of streets, then up into the western mountains on the other side of the inter-Andean valley. The single-track trail we rode the following day was on a ledge that wrapped around the middle of the mountains. A deep stream flowed along this ledge. As we rode, a steep mountain was directly on our right, and water was directly on our left. You would look ahead and sometimes see other group members tipping off their bikes to either side of the mountain, eventually being caught by a bed of prickers. Behind, you might look behind and see someone tipping into the stream! At the end of this trail we reached the Timbuyacu Hot Springs. We bathed in the warm water, splashing and laughing until dark- grateful to have reached the end of leg one of our expedition as a community.

Hannah, in a roadside conversation with the locals

Bike mechanic Jule- working on a tire puncture

Enjoying the hot springs!

From Timbuyacu, we packed up our big backpacks and climbed up into the mountains to begin our trek to the cloud forest on the western side. Our instructors were Nora, Hannah Billian, and Tupak. We walked up and up until the ground was once again covered in deep paja grass. On our second day of trekking, we rose before the sun, at 4:00 in the morning. As we climbed through the paja, lights from Ibarra and Otavalo sprinkled the earth down below. The stars were out and the strong mountain wind whipped around us. The light changed ever so slowly as the sun rose and the sky turned colors of pink and orange. We sat in the paja to watch. I looked around and saw that everyone’s faces were softly glowing. That day we walked 18 miles, mostly uphill, around the base of Cerro Negro, a looming dormant volcano. The sun set when camp came into view, making the paja shine golden and the clouds glow. During trekking, days often times turned long. Hours were spent walking through the paja in the blaring hot sun. We began to pass the time telling riddles, jokes, and stories to each other. Here is a story Jule made up and told to us:

“There is an old man who lives on a hill, and drinks sweet pink berry wine. He lives a life of contemplation and strives to work for the nine. The nine he strives to work for are the masters of the sky, the wind that whistles, the clouds above, and the birds that fly. The masters one day announced a fray that split the world into three, without balance, and life and death could no longer grow a tree. The universe went still, the flowers neither bloomed nor withered, the lion stood with nowhere to go, and the snake no longer slithered. At this time the old man sighed a sigh of disbelief, for in all his thoughts he had never thought that life would be in relief. As the old man gazed on the earth now bare, in the distance he saw the nine approaching through the air, without restriction or law. The nine were driven by a single force, a message for the man, a gift; a grant of three full seconds to craft a cunning plan. In the seconds granted to him, a decision was to be made: to continue existence as it was, or to force it all to fade. In the old man’s life of contemplation, his mind worked like a breeze, to produce an answer to the world in which it would begin to ease. With this decision and the three seconds up, existence disappeared, and out of nothing only something could be made or reared. A flash of light, quick and bright immediately made it two, from only nothing, to nothing and something, life could start anew. With a new beginning, an intention of light, using a paper and quill, he wrote the existence of all of life, and of the old man on the hill.”

Pinan- a small community in the highlands where we spent a night

The last day of trekking, descending from a calm, mystical lake called La Laguna de Piñan, we were walking along and all of a sudden the paja turned into huge trees with vines hanging and moss growing all around. Birds sang and butterflies and strange insects flew about. Brightly colored flowers sprouted from nooks and crannies in the rock, and ferns and leaves the size of small trees hung down over our heads. We had made it to the cloud forest. Thomas met us along the trail with poles that he had harvested for the river crossings which loomed ahead. We walked along the rushing streams with our giant walking sticks until we made it to a large river called the Rio Cristopamba. There, we helped one another cross with ropes and harnesses, just in case someone fell in and were to be swept down by the raging current. We used our poles as support, leaning on them in the direction of the current. Once everyone had crossed safely, we set off on a dusty road towards the small community of El Rosario, where we would make beautiful baskets.

La Laguna

Tupak

Life in the paja