Cotopaxi

A bad thing to happen abroad is to get sick. Unfortunately for me I had the whole shebang, stuffy nose, sore throat and all I wanted to do was sleep. Of course this was the same day I needed to climb an active volcano.

We stayed the night in a town called Latacunga, full of historic buildings and planes landing on top of your head thanks to the international airport nearby. 

We organized a trip to Cotopaxi through our hotel with a guy named Vini. He told us first we would drive in his pick up truck to his mother’s house to drop off our luggage, then we will go to Cotopaxi. 

Sketchy I know, but at this point the only thing valuable I had in my pack was an Ecuadorian poncho for my mother. 

We dropped off our bags at Vini’s childhood home, waved to his mom, then headed up Cotopaxi. 

  
The drive up is difficult for a new car, and sure enough, Vini’s old pick up truck broke down before we got to the trailhead. We waited at the museum at the base of the volcano, and drank coffee and tea while he called up his friend with a new truck. 

That’s when we met our new guide, Tomas. He was a sweet older man who didn’t speak a lick of English but was the best tour guide I could ask for.

He went slow with us as we ascended the steepest trail I have ever been on. There would be heavy wind one second, threatening to blow you into a canyon, and the next second it was still. It was probably the most difficult trail I’ve done, especially since I couldn’t breathe, but we made it. 

  
After that we headed back down and rode mountain bikes back to the base. By the end of the day I couldn’t keep my eyes open. We went back to Quito, ate dinner, then had the best sleep I’ve ever had.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Cotopaxi

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s