Day 4... Hardland
Day 4...
Today began earlier than yesterday... for 1... no bike shop trips... I wanted to get on the road and get to San Isidro, the next town... in order to get some breakfast. It wasn’t too far away and as a bonus... tarmac. After yesterday it was nice to have a little tarnac under the wheels and the climb out of El Angel, although quite tough was much easier due to the black stuff. I remember thinking not to enjoy it too much, or the cycling gods will offer payback!
San Isidro came quickly, a tiny little place. Today I learnt, that if you ask for a ‘mercado’ you will get pointed int the direction of a fruit and veg market. Fine, I picked up some bananas and apples for supplies. But after yesterday, where I pretty much ate nothing, I knew I needed something a little more substantial. I saw a shop (tienda) which looked a bit shut but next door was a lady selling bread, so I wondered over and got a couple of bread rolls then asked about the shop next door. She wondered round and opened it. Choices choices! There wasnt any small cheeses for the rolls so I settled on a tin of sardines. Some bottles of coke for energy and some sweets pretty much made up breakfast lunch and dinner. San Isidro was cute, and all the villages seem to have a beautiful square with benches but there didnt seem much else so I turned on up the mountainside, knowing the pain was about to start.
I’m not going to dwell too much on the uphill as it was pretty similar to yesterday only at the slightly less lung busting altitude of 9-11000 ft. Hmm still pretty high.
I was technically in a area which the bikepacking website had suggested avoiding, suggesting turning from El Angel straight to Ibarra, but the main place to avoid was Buenos Aires due to illegal mining causing some trouble and that was further up the road. The uphill was cobbles and at steep gradient. I passed many farm workers, most of whom had a wave or a beep of a horn ( not with smiles, more staring) though one group of farm workers essentially was laughing at me. Fair enough. Trucks and motorbikes rattled up the cobbles and I was left wondering how the vehicles stayed together!!
One gentleman was passing me and stopping to fees and tend cows I believe so he kept passing me. Every time he did he waved, then he stopped to talk and I tried to explain in my poor Spanish what I was doing alone and pushing my bike up this ridiculous hill. I think he got it, because on our third meeting when he was about to head down the hill, he clapped me on the shoulder and said something to the effect of, go carefully.
I did eventually get to the top of this ridiculous ‘hill’ and was now standing at 11200 ft. In a very short amount of mileage, I had gained over 2000ft. I had managed to cycle a little as the cobbles had turned to gravel and it had flattened slightly near the top, but essentially it had taken me nearly 4 hours. Here they don’t wind roads round mountains much, they just go straight up them. Now however I knew it was essentially downhill to La Conception, pretty much where I thought I would get to today. The weather had been cloudy and cooler but I could see the sun down in the valley and figured I was about to get roasted.
I stopped for some food. The sardines were most tricky to get out of the tin without a fork and essentially I spilt juice all over my trousers, cut my finger on the tin trying to get them out and essentially mad a right mess. It was worth it though and I sat looking at the stunning view thinking how lucky I was. I sat looking over the entire valley with mountains on the other side, the tops bathed in cloud. Some kind of bird of prey floated above and the wind blew gently. It was so peaceful.
Still I had a downhill to take on...
It started off with a reasonable gradient and rough gravel... concentration had to be absolute and the back wheel skidded out a lot. Part of the track were severely broken up and required some technical skill to get around with a loaded bike. So far so good...
The brakes were getting a bit of a workout as the track steepened and at one point it smelt like something was burning. It might have been the brakes, it might have been me, as the sun had now come out with a vengeance. I stopped to eat my other sardine roll and put on cream where I again made a mess. The sun cream bottle had expanded (?with the altitude) and when I opened it a mass of cream exploded out, I had also left my gloves on and they were now well protected from the sun. As I sat there a lad came down on his motorbike balancing 4 pails, presumably full of cattle feed. His 2 dogs trotting behind him. He went down the slope just as carefully as me so it wasn’t just me being woosy!!
I carried on descending, stopping every now and again for photos. I then hit cobbles!!! Now going down cobbled slopes is surely better than going up them... but boy does it rattle you to bits. I was being shaken from head to toe. Concentration cant be lost as the cobbles jut up and there are gaps where gravel makes you skid, then back to the bone shaker!! Still at least it was downhill, and the view!!! Just perfect of the mountains and the dry fields. Down here everything was drier and dustier. Following another picture stop, I noticed that my mobile didn’t click back on charging from my dynamo, so I stopped and noticed it had been jolted loose. I put the connectors back in and set off again
.. similar problem. Why did it keep coming loose? I sat down and had a good look and turned the dynamo connectors... hold on I shouldn’t be able to do that. The front wheel was loose as the skewer had come undone, probably from all the shaking in the cobbles. I tightened it back up and re connected the dynamo. All good now, but it worried me slightly as to what could have happened on this slightly treacherous descent. Something could have easily broken.
Still all good now. I carried on and passed a ravine filled with flowers and greenery that had escaped the relentlessness of the sun, finally got a bike/gate photo and was generally enjoying myself. That’s not right said the cycling gods!!
It was during one of these stops that I realised I had missed a turn. Bugger, fcuk, etc etc etc. The air was turned blue with my cursing as I had just come down one of the steepest sections of cobbles!
Fortunately I had noticed before I had gone too far, but how had I missed it? I considered continuing down but was unsure whether the track led anywhere, so turned round, took a deep breath and headed on up! The sun was burning down now and I shade hopped, stopping in whatever shade I could find as I made my way up. I finally got to the well hidden turn off and another steep gradient to push up before re commencing the downhill, being more careful to check the gpx more frequently. I arrived in a very small collection of houses which had a basketball court and not much else. The kids playing said hello and stared at me as I went by. More cobbles, steeper now down and down I went still being shaken sideways by the cobbles!!
Tarmac!! And bow to really have fun. A sweeping descent on good roads ... what did I do to deserve this?? Got to the bottom for.the river crossing and then a steep curve back up the mountain. This one was too steep to cycle, so back onto the pushing but not long before I could get back on a d start climbing again.
I was also getting bitten to buggery as at this altitude the flies and midges prevailed, taking chunks out of me whenever I stopped to catch my breath. I shortly realised that I had missed a turn for the town I had been aiming for but continued as a second town was a bit further and this route would get me there. I knew I probably had to stop here or risk getting caught out in the dark again. I rolled up to two people and asked if there was anywhere to stay here, no, nowhere came the reply. Could I camp here. No, no camping. Then they conveyed that there was somewhere to stay. It was a few minutes of back and forth with my very bad spanish to realise that they were inviting me to stay with them!!
Wow, what an opportunity. In the few minutes I had spoken to them, they seemed like a nice couple. In their 70’s and lived in this town for a long time. The town had nothing. A collection of small huts essentially and a volleyball court. I was grateful to them. Clearly everyone here was very poor... the houses were close to being mud huts and yet here this family were offering me a place to stay. Unparalleled kindness.
They introduced me to all the members of their family, son and daughter, grandmother, nephew and a few friends I believe. We stood chatting, me trying to tell them, with the help of google, why I was in this place, by myself, on a bike! The word solita came up a lot. They were clearly bemused. I just replied loco, with a smile and a finger whirring round near my head.
CraZy is pretty much CraZy everywhere!
Some people would ask if it was safe to go into these strangers homes... I asked myself that question, don't worry, and came to the conclusion that these were good people. I also had an sos button on my tracker if it went really bad but I was pretty confident I had lucked out!! I brought up payment and got a firm no.. despite me trying to insist that it was necessary.
They then took me over to their house with the gentleman (I wish I could remember his name) talking slowly to me in Spanish. I managed to guess most of it.. when I pointed out the disused railway lines to him, he explained that the train used to run from here to San Lorenzo.... in fact it ran right past their house!
I was welcomed in and shown to a room tacked on to the outside of the house. A nice double bed was in there and in short order, my bike had been lifted through the door for me, the table and chairs that had resided in there, kicked out and I was told that it would be safe there, not robbed!
He obviously understood that I was kinda putting myself in a different situation and was trying to reassure me that it would be ok. I got shown round their house.... beautiful in its simplicity. A small kitchen with hobs, a living room and a bedroom off that with a tv blaring. Then through there to the garden to the 'bathroom', a trough with running water to wash in and an outside toilet.
Carlotta, the mother of the house, kept saying how poor they were. It felt like she was trying to apologise for the house, which actually I thought was extremely lovely. And actually the house didnt matter to me as I was so lucky to see how the local people lived, not the well off City dwellers but the proper Ecuadorians, the forgotten ones.
They showed me the wood burner for when it got colder, situated on the outside of the house with the warm air directed in. Such a different way of living to our modern needs and wants. I felt so bad for being, by comparison, so rich. But then I looked at their surroundings in the mountains and their simple lifestyle and wondered if they weren't richer than I.
Further discussion, or at least this is what I thought we were talking about, elicited the information about how they had no work. I have no idea how they managed to feed their family. There seemed to be a lot of people living in the house but maybe it was just people coming and going.
Whilst waiting for some food that Carlotta haf indicated she was making me, I taught their daughter, who was around the same age as my beautiful step daughter Anna, the game of Knock out Whist. How i did that in spanish is beyond me but we managed to play several games of it!! It made me slightly homesick as that was one of the games my family played on holiday!
Carlotta made me some soup, which apart from the lump of fat/meat, was absolutely by far the best thing I had eaten in Ecuador. I was getting pretty tired and was trying to apologise but I had to sleep. Then Carlotta gave me another plate, this time with potatoes and rice and more meat, which tasted really good too. I felt bad however as I guess that meat would be a treat, rather than a staple.
I then thanked everyone profusely and went to the room they had given me for the night. They showed me how to keep the door shut with an iron bar and said their goodnights. I couldn't believe the generosity shown to me today by people for whom this was truly a Hardland!
I hope you are enjoying the blogs...
I am suffering for sponsorship so if you feel able, please donate to my justgiving page :-
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/lydia-franklin1
And if you would like a name on the prayer flags I am carrying, please send me a message with the name to go onto the flags
A massive thanks to everyone who has donated to far.....
Together we can Fight Back against cancer, one pedal turn at a time!
Today began earlier than yesterday... for 1... no bike shop trips... I wanted to get on the road and get to San Isidro, the next town... in order to get some breakfast. It wasn’t too far away and as a bonus... tarmac. After yesterday it was nice to have a little tarnac under the wheels and the climb out of El Angel, although quite tough was much easier due to the black stuff. I remember thinking not to enjoy it too much, or the cycling gods will offer payback!
San Isidro came quickly, a tiny little place. Today I learnt, that if you ask for a ‘mercado’ you will get pointed int the direction of a fruit and veg market. Fine, I picked up some bananas and apples for supplies. But after yesterday, where I pretty much ate nothing, I knew I needed something a little more substantial. I saw a shop (tienda) which looked a bit shut but next door was a lady selling bread, so I wondered over and got a couple of bread rolls then asked about the shop next door. She wondered round and opened it. Choices choices! There wasnt any small cheeses for the rolls so I settled on a tin of sardines. Some bottles of coke for energy and some sweets pretty much made up breakfast lunch and dinner. San Isidro was cute, and all the villages seem to have a beautiful square with benches but there didnt seem much else so I turned on up the mountainside, knowing the pain was about to start.
I’m not going to dwell too much on the uphill as it was pretty similar to yesterday only at the slightly less lung busting altitude of 9-11000 ft. Hmm still pretty high.
I was technically in a area which the bikepacking website had suggested avoiding, suggesting turning from El Angel straight to Ibarra, but the main place to avoid was Buenos Aires due to illegal mining causing some trouble and that was further up the road. The uphill was cobbles and at steep gradient. I passed many farm workers, most of whom had a wave or a beep of a horn ( not with smiles, more staring) though one group of farm workers essentially was laughing at me. Fair enough. Trucks and motorbikes rattled up the cobbles and I was left wondering how the vehicles stayed together!!
One gentleman was passing me and stopping to fees and tend cows I believe so he kept passing me. Every time he did he waved, then he stopped to talk and I tried to explain in my poor Spanish what I was doing alone and pushing my bike up this ridiculous hill. I think he got it, because on our third meeting when he was about to head down the hill, he clapped me on the shoulder and said something to the effect of, go carefully.
I did eventually get to the top of this ridiculous ‘hill’ and was now standing at 11200 ft. In a very short amount of mileage, I had gained over 2000ft. I had managed to cycle a little as the cobbles had turned to gravel and it had flattened slightly near the top, but essentially it had taken me nearly 4 hours. Here they don’t wind roads round mountains much, they just go straight up them. Now however I knew it was essentially downhill to La Conception, pretty much where I thought I would get to today. The weather had been cloudy and cooler but I could see the sun down in the valley and figured I was about to get roasted.
I stopped for some food. The sardines were most tricky to get out of the tin without a fork and essentially I spilt juice all over my trousers, cut my finger on the tin trying to get them out and essentially mad a right mess. It was worth it though and I sat looking at the stunning view thinking how lucky I was. I sat looking over the entire valley with mountains on the other side, the tops bathed in cloud. Some kind of bird of prey floated above and the wind blew gently. It was so peaceful.
Still I had a downhill to take on...
It started off with a reasonable gradient and rough gravel... concentration had to be absolute and the back wheel skidded out a lot. Part of the track were severely broken up and required some technical skill to get around with a loaded bike. So far so good...
The brakes were getting a bit of a workout as the track steepened and at one point it smelt like something was burning. It might have been the brakes, it might have been me, as the sun had now come out with a vengeance. I stopped to eat my other sardine roll and put on cream where I again made a mess. The sun cream bottle had expanded (?with the altitude) and when I opened it a mass of cream exploded out, I had also left my gloves on and they were now well protected from the sun. As I sat there a lad came down on his motorbike balancing 4 pails, presumably full of cattle feed. His 2 dogs trotting behind him. He went down the slope just as carefully as me so it wasn’t just me being woosy!!
I carried on descending, stopping every now and again for photos. I then hit cobbles!!! Now going down cobbled slopes is surely better than going up them... but boy does it rattle you to bits. I was being shaken from head to toe. Concentration cant be lost as the cobbles jut up and there are gaps where gravel makes you skid, then back to the bone shaker!! Still at least it was downhill, and the view!!! Just perfect of the mountains and the dry fields. Down here everything was drier and dustier. Following another picture stop, I noticed that my mobile didn’t click back on charging from my dynamo, so I stopped and noticed it had been jolted loose. I put the connectors back in and set off again
.. similar problem. Why did it keep coming loose? I sat down and had a good look and turned the dynamo connectors... hold on I shouldn’t be able to do that. The front wheel was loose as the skewer had come undone, probably from all the shaking in the cobbles. I tightened it back up and re connected the dynamo. All good now, but it worried me slightly as to what could have happened on this slightly treacherous descent. Something could have easily broken.
Still all good now. I carried on and passed a ravine filled with flowers and greenery that had escaped the relentlessness of the sun, finally got a bike/gate photo and was generally enjoying myself. That’s not right said the cycling gods!!
It was during one of these stops that I realised I had missed a turn. Bugger, fcuk, etc etc etc. The air was turned blue with my cursing as I had just come down one of the steepest sections of cobbles!
Fortunately I had noticed before I had gone too far, but how had I missed it? I considered continuing down but was unsure whether the track led anywhere, so turned round, took a deep breath and headed on up! The sun was burning down now and I shade hopped, stopping in whatever shade I could find as I made my way up. I finally got to the well hidden turn off and another steep gradient to push up before re commencing the downhill, being more careful to check the gpx more frequently. I arrived in a very small collection of houses which had a basketball court and not much else. The kids playing said hello and stared at me as I went by. More cobbles, steeper now down and down I went still being shaken sideways by the cobbles!!
Tarmac!! And bow to really have fun. A sweeping descent on good roads ... what did I do to deserve this?? Got to the bottom for.the river crossing and then a steep curve back up the mountain. This one was too steep to cycle, so back onto the pushing but not long before I could get back on a d start climbing again.
I was also getting bitten to buggery as at this altitude the flies and midges prevailed, taking chunks out of me whenever I stopped to catch my breath. I shortly realised that I had missed a turn for the town I had been aiming for but continued as a second town was a bit further and this route would get me there. I knew I probably had to stop here or risk getting caught out in the dark again. I rolled up to two people and asked if there was anywhere to stay here, no, nowhere came the reply. Could I camp here. No, no camping. Then they conveyed that there was somewhere to stay. It was a few minutes of back and forth with my very bad spanish to realise that they were inviting me to stay with them!!
Wow, what an opportunity. In the few minutes I had spoken to them, they seemed like a nice couple. In their 70’s and lived in this town for a long time. The town had nothing. A collection of small huts essentially and a volleyball court. I was grateful to them. Clearly everyone here was very poor... the houses were close to being mud huts and yet here this family were offering me a place to stay. Unparalleled kindness.
They introduced me to all the members of their family, son and daughter, grandmother, nephew and a few friends I believe. We stood chatting, me trying to tell them, with the help of google, why I was in this place, by myself, on a bike! The word solita came up a lot. They were clearly bemused. I just replied loco, with a smile and a finger whirring round near my head.
CraZy is pretty much CraZy everywhere!
Some people would ask if it was safe to go into these strangers homes... I asked myself that question, don't worry, and came to the conclusion that these were good people. I also had an sos button on my tracker if it went really bad but I was pretty confident I had lucked out!! I brought up payment and got a firm no.. despite me trying to insist that it was necessary.
They then took me over to their house with the gentleman (I wish I could remember his name) talking slowly to me in Spanish. I managed to guess most of it.. when I pointed out the disused railway lines to him, he explained that the train used to run from here to San Lorenzo.... in fact it ran right past their house!
I was welcomed in and shown to a room tacked on to the outside of the house. A nice double bed was in there and in short order, my bike had been lifted through the door for me, the table and chairs that had resided in there, kicked out and I was told that it would be safe there, not robbed!
He obviously understood that I was kinda putting myself in a different situation and was trying to reassure me that it would be ok. I got shown round their house.... beautiful in its simplicity. A small kitchen with hobs, a living room and a bedroom off that with a tv blaring. Then through there to the garden to the 'bathroom', a trough with running water to wash in and an outside toilet.
Carlotta, the mother of the house, kept saying how poor they were. It felt like she was trying to apologise for the house, which actually I thought was extremely lovely. And actually the house didnt matter to me as I was so lucky to see how the local people lived, not the well off City dwellers but the proper Ecuadorians, the forgotten ones.
They showed me the wood burner for when it got colder, situated on the outside of the house with the warm air directed in. Such a different way of living to our modern needs and wants. I felt so bad for being, by comparison, so rich. But then I looked at their surroundings in the mountains and their simple lifestyle and wondered if they weren't richer than I.
Further discussion, or at least this is what I thought we were talking about, elicited the information about how they had no work. I have no idea how they managed to feed their family. There seemed to be a lot of people living in the house but maybe it was just people coming and going.
Whilst waiting for some food that Carlotta haf indicated she was making me, I taught their daughter, who was around the same age as my beautiful step daughter Anna, the game of Knock out Whist. How i did that in spanish is beyond me but we managed to play several games of it!! It made me slightly homesick as that was one of the games my family played on holiday!
Carlotta made me some soup, which apart from the lump of fat/meat, was absolutely by far the best thing I had eaten in Ecuador. I was getting pretty tired and was trying to apologise but I had to sleep. Then Carlotta gave me another plate, this time with potatoes and rice and more meat, which tasted really good too. I felt bad however as I guess that meat would be a treat, rather than a staple.
I then thanked everyone profusely and went to the room they had given me for the night. They showed me how to keep the door shut with an iron bar and said their goodnights. I couldn't believe the generosity shown to me today by people for whom this was truly a Hardland!
I hope you are enjoying the blogs...
I am suffering for sponsorship so if you feel able, please donate to my justgiving page :-
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/lydia-franklin1
And if you would like a name on the prayer flags I am carrying, please send me a message with the name to go onto the flags
A massive thanks to everyone who has donated to far.....
Together we can Fight Back against cancer, one pedal turn at a time!
Oh my god Lid..you suffered on something like the Paris-Roubaix..only worse!What a wonderful couple inviting you to their home.Pura Vida.xx mum x
ReplyDeleteI have a new found respect for the Paris Roubaix riders!!! And yes so lovely xx
DeleteThe Ecuadorians are really beautiful people, so I am not surprised they invited you into their home. It sounded really tough, so at least you ended up getting something back back. You are doing well, keep it up. Dad xx.
ReplyDeleteReally lovely to hear that the locals are taking care of you. Ironic that people who have so little are so generous xxx
ReplyDelete