Ecuador: Nice 'n Dry

We eventually find the E35 heading out of Quito, aiming for the Peruvian border post at Macara some 752kms and a few days away. We fancy a ride on the ridge that divides Ecuador into wet and dry zones. We’ve ridden the dry coastal Ruta Spondylus and we've explored the northern wet Amazonas. Now it's time to do the bit down the middle. There is No GPS navigation in Ecuador so we are relying on me shouting out left, right, straight instructions to Brausch using the offline app Maps.me whilst clutching the phone. My new biking gloves have thin fingers allowing me to operate phone and camera without de-gloving. We are surrounded by at least six volcanic peaks on both sides as we cruise along the double carriage way, having a chat to a biker couple from Colombia at the traffic lights on the way. Its all very pleasant. Our picnic stop in Ambato, leaning against the park railings at the central Plaza consisted of cheese and jam rolls which we made earlier at the breakfast table at Hotel Margarita and hot coffee from the now slightly dented Argentinian metal flask (crash damage). This is going well. I wander off to re-charge the sim chip and phone the family. We are warned on four separate occasions about thieves and pretty crime as we chat and eat. It's a really busy crossroads and the Transito Police have a hectic time organising the traffic. When there is a nice quiet gap we bump down the pavement, crossing diagonally and start again along the E35. Four volcanoes later we reach Riobamba. What a fabulous route. The sun is shining. A pleasant 22 degrees and after navigating the ancient stone-cut roads around town we find the central Plaza. Again it's a green haven with paths,  benches and sometimes a flowing fountain. There are the usual scruffy layabouts, mum's and pushchairs and old men in classic double-breasted shiny suits with wide lapels. A nice timeless tableau. A scruffy individual approaches us as we stretch and relax on the bench,  never far from the bike and always watching it. He looks at our shoes in horror and withdraws from his little black tog bag a set of bottles,  rags and a tiny wooden platform. “Yes,  Si. Clean our boots”. A half an hour later with lots of scrubbing,  brushing, waxing, polishing and elbow grease we have new boots. We were fleeced of 10 US$, but in a nice way. Exiting Riobamba is another navigational challenge but we find the way out on a very twisty pothole poor condition concreted road which connects to the E35. We've done 209 kms so far today, but it's a bit too early to stop. Destination Cuenca is another 272kms, a bit too far on twisty passes. Never mind,  well find somewhere in between. IOverlander App has taken all the stress out of looking for accommodation so we ride along the ridge relaxed and confident that the room search will be easy. At some point we enter an upside down-Tjunction where we are on the horizontal bit. The sharp turn to the right signs to Guamote, a place I cannot find on our pathetic tourist map and we cannot really be bothered to stop,  hunt out the phone,  switch it on,  go through the rigmarole of typing stuff into Maps.Me.
“Keep straight” I shout. We are lulled by the beautiful scenery,  perfect temperature and general sense of wellbeing. A notice board for the Sangay National Park flashes by. We love National Parks. Green and gold grasses adorn the hills, blue gum trees line the road, the altitude is a steady 2800m to which we are acclimatised. We ride up and over a few hills settling into a steady ride along a valley floor now at 3400 metres. Somethings not quite right, so when we stop for fuel, I get out the phone to check the map. Mmm, we aren't on the E35 anymore,  we are heading south east instead of Just South.
“Turn? Or carry on?” As you probably know by now we aren't very good at making decisions so we ask the petrol attendant. “ Habitation?” and wave our arms in a pointing direction along the road. “Si”. OK, decision made. We carry on. 
Upwards and onwards. No traffic and the temperature drops to 13 degrees. We've been in this situation before so pull up by a thundering waterfall to don rainsuits and test the new rainproof spats-with-soles that we bought at the famous M&P Bike shop in Swansea on our recent sojourn to visit family in UK. As we rise higher the mist sweeps across the mountains,  every now and then offering us a glimpse of that National Park. We pass a huge Volcanic Laguna filled with crystal clear water,  reflecting the mist and mountains. It's beautiful, but no Cabanas here. We overtake a mini -traffic jam of a scooter,  2 heavily laden bicyclists, 2 horse riders leading a cow by a roped nose and a bouncy dog congested in a clump as they struggle up the hill. “Hi and Bye” we wave as we whoosh past. This is such fun. We are warm and dry. It doesn't matter that we have strayed from the chosen route. We are surrounded by greenery and waterfalls and mist and mountains and patchy tarmac and the occasional landslide. Except that it is now 16h30 and it gets dark by 6pm and we have yet to find a place to stay. We pass a Police pick-up who honks out a ‘whoop, whoop’ as we overtake.  A few minutes down the road we do a U-turn and pull up alongside the friendly cop. “Habitation?” we ask and wave our arms in a frontward action. “Un Hora” ( One hour!) we exclaim. It's now 17h30. We ride on as the rain strikes, the light fades and the road deteriorates with washaways and steep hairpin bends, glad in the knowledge that the police truck is a few metres behind. Dusk is a horrible time to ride as it's too light for the lights to be effective, yet too dark to see the inconsistencies in the road surface. With two pairs of eyes and a cop car following, we make it along the seemingly endless mountain pass into Maccas, 157 kms from the shoe shine at Riobamba and 214kms off track from Cuenca. We stop at a cafe for a regrouping coffee break and are immediately joined at the table by two giggling 15 year old girls who want to practice their English. With the help of Google translate we establish names,  ages (they think Brausch is 100!) and career paths. They both want to be professional footballers. And “What would I do if my husband brought another woman into the home?” they ask.  A short sharp “Leave” ended that conversation with lots of laughs. Hotel Splendit  is just down the road where we park,  offload the bathroom kit only,  cover the bike and strip off the wet gear. But we are Nice ‘n Dry.
Maps.me shows a 422kms route to Loja ( pronounced Logghha) via Cuenca or a 381 kms ride along the wet east side of the ridge. We ask Reception which route he would take: High Road or Low?. He says “Low” , at a comfortable 500 metre altitude.  It's raining. It always rains in the Amazon.   But our rainsuits,  waterproof overgloves and overboots are working 100%. We are now on the E45, Troncal Amazonas and the road surface changes between compacted stone,  asphalt and gravel filled potholes quite regularly. The many,  many tumbling waterfalls are powerful and impressive filling the deep roadside gutters ( deep enough to swallow the bike) with brown muddy fast flowing water that crashes into the culverts with a self made fountain before disappearing under the road on its way down to the next waterfall. The rain is torrential We arrive at a old primitavely constructed tunnel and disappear into its cave-like atmosphere, emerging into sunshine 1km later. Luckily there is a traffic jam with trucks and bulldozers competing for the one way system through some roadworks at a very pretty roundabout with a useful looking marble table in the middle. We pull up and unpack the freshly made rolls and coffee. It's great to travel with a simple picnic. We have added a banana to the feast. With the sun still shining we find a hotel with a pool at Qualaguizi and call it a day after 200kms. Loja can wait. By evening the sun has gone and the rain is torrential again. But we are Nice ‘n Dry in our room. Saturday morning and we are back on the road to Loja,  a mere 190 kms away. Most of our riding is reduced to 50-60kms/hr.  There are plenty more stunning waterfalls and a very slippery bridge that Brausch slides over. The hills are bright green as if someone waved a luminous green highlighter pen over them. At one rather run down village we stop to request a cup of hot water as the flask has run dry ( ‘aqua caliente, por favor’) and extract two Lipton tea bags. Sometimes only tea will do. The tiniest donkey called Poncho and the old rider, Jose, trot delicately by, no stirrups, and his feet almost touching the ground. They are on their way to milk the cows and carry very large empty plastic slingover cans for this purpose. I could do with some milk in my tea but settle for black with sugar instead. As we ride we are conscious  of the circling vultures overhead who do a good job of cleaning the road kill. Unfortunately we see a few dog skeletons picked clean. We climb the mountain pass up and over and at the ridge where the E35 and E45 meet, the scenery dramatically changes from green to orange/brown. A great painter had been here with the orange highlighter. The colours of the mountains alter from Orange to Brown to a Dark Indigo Blue as they recede into the vastness. It's now a very hot 26 degrees.  We shed the rainsuits in Catamayo and cool down with an ice cream. The road surface to Catacachi ( not to be confused with Cotocochi) is in good condition and Brausch can diminish his intense concentration a little bit to enjoy the scenery. It's a hostel stop outside Catacachi, with no cooking facilities or shops so we unpack the camping cook pots and boil up the 4 month old Spag Bols we keep for emergencies.  The border post of Macara is in sight and with sunshine,  birds singing and another glorious dry day we take to the road before the heat and before 8am. The green ‘monster men’ trees are now in flower and sprout tufts of white cotton wool balls together with clusters of parasitic staghorn ferns. There are gigantic bougainvillea plants draped over fences, startlingly red hibiscus and cheerful yellow flowers lining the valley road. There are flat top thorn trees reminding us of the South African bushveld, (without the giraffes), and lush rice paddies in the lowest parts where the run-off water flows.
It's been a wonderful 3 days. We never did get to Cuenca. But we did stay Nice ‘n Dry.
And now we are exiting Ecuador after a total of 6 weeks and some great adventures. It's a bit sad to leave this Green and Gold Jewel, but reaching Ushuaia for Brausch 80th birthday celebration is calling.  See you there.