Since I’ve arrived in the Andes Mountains here in Ecuador, I’ve been enthralled by the dramatic slopes, peaks and ridges that appear everywhere. The scope and scale of these features is not well described unless you’ve actually witnessed it. Most towns up here are in valleys with the mountains towering above and all around the town or city. Vilcabamba is no different. Link and I choose a German run Hosteleria a couple kilometers out of town which our guide book gave good notices. This particular "backpacker resort" boasted a restaurant with sweeping views, a bar, a spa, a spring-fed pool, WiFi (a rarety, although becoming more common) and most importantly an entire set of trails they designed for the guests to hike the mountains, ranging from 3 hours to 3 days.
The hike we choose was called the Mandango Loop and promised 5 hours of sweeping views of the mountains, a ridgeline hike and finally a decent along a mountain streambed. The description warned the prospective hiker that it is easy to die while hiking the Andes. It also said that you may not want to do this hike if you were afraid of heights. Well, I do have this fear, but it is not disabling and the innkeeper suggested that there was only a very short distance along the ridgeline in which I would really feel exposed. “How short,?” I asked. “Oh, from here to that chair over there,” he points 15 feet away. OK, I think, let’s do it!
We walked along the road about 15 minutes to the trailhead where we were told people might try to stop us as the entrance was on private property, but that we should just ignore them by smiling a wide Gringo smile and saying, “Gracias, gracias!” and just walk past them. We found the entrance, no problem and luckily there was no one to stop us. We immediately begin ascending a gentle slope among trees. I noticed a brown bull that perfectly blended into the backround. He was lying down and we carefully walked around him.
The slope gradually increased and soon we were ascending towards the foot of the nearest mountain. Predictably, the angle of ascent continued to increase until we were climbing up a more or less vertical wall at points. Then we found ourselves on a narrow path that was essentially a ledge that wound up the edge mountain. At points the ledge was only 18 inches wide, or even partially damaged. The drop off from this ledge was almost vertical and would be certain death with any misstep. This would be the theme for the rest of the hike. At points where the ledge was damaged, Link, who was leading, and had no apparent fear of falling to his immediate death, would reach back for me, so that I could use his arm to steady myself as I hopped over the damaged ledge. At one point, while we were doing one of these manouvers, Link lost his balance and because I had grabbed on to some stubborn vegetation with my other hand, I was able to pull him back to his center of gravity. We continued winding up the path/ledge sometimes having to climb vertically, until we reached the first milestone, which was a white crucifix planted on the first mountain top.
The view from this place was exactly the type of view that I had traveled 3,000 miles to see. There were dramatic mountains and green slopes that seemed to go on endlessly. Perhaps I could see 30 or 40 miles. I was high, and it was good. The next marker was a second cross that we could see on a distant mountain top, much higher than the one we were currently standing on. To traval to it, we had to walk along the ridgeline and then climb up to it.
[This photo was taken from the first cross, looking to the second cross which is located on the highest peak in the center of this picture]
The walk along this ridgeline is probably one of the most spectacular hikes on the planet. Walking along the ridge, the mountain fell away from you on both sides by such a steep degree that to go off the path would again be certain death. Much of this ridge was perhaps 3 feet wide, but at times it got as narrow as perhaps 18 inches. To add another thrill, it was windy, which freaked me out. Much of the path I was either crouching or downright crawling along. When the path would widen to 3 or 4 feet I could walk upright. These were times that were the most powerful for me. I could feel the deep fear, but being at that place, so isolated from anything, with such commanding views of the most dramatic spires and valleys for so many miles, … {at this point, I am at a loss as to how to articulate the feelings I experienced. I hate the use of superlatives, as they are so overused and therefore diluted, and yet my mind and my spirit was full of these superlatives as I stood on top of the world. Saying I was one with the planet, or that I was supremely connected sounds like a hackneyed attempt at some new-age bullshit. I refuse. I know that when I stood there, finally managing to get completely upright on that windy ridgeline the fear in the pit of my stomach transformed into something I suspect was as close to enlightenment as I may ever achieve in this body. At that moment there was only that present moment, and how that moment was Present! I was Present.}
We continued to walk/crawl/stoop/climb up along the exposed ridgeline until we finally reached the second peak, which was decorated with another cross, this one brown. After taking some pictures, we continued along the ridgeline. Not too far along, the ridgeline dropped about 12 feet, and we had to descend down a rocky spine, exposed on all sides except the immediate rocky spine we were descending. (Understand that even at the bottom of this decent we were still on the top of a mountain ridge.) After we successfully navigated this, we looked back and named it Angel’s Spine, because Link felt that he was so close to being able to fly like an angel (I wanted to name it The Spine of Lucifer!).
As I continued to navigate this ridgeline, I slowly became more confident and was able to walk upright more and more. I continued to be present with my fear, but also present with my walking and many times I treated it like the walking meditation that I do in New York. One foot in front of the other, feel the ground, feel the wind, hear the wind, breath, feel your breath enter your body, feel your breath leave your body. In this way, I wasn’t focused on the steep slopes on either side of me.
Soon enough the ridgeline became a mountain slope that became gentler as we began our descent. All in all, we were up on that ridge for about 2 hours. Maybe if I did this hike 4 more times, I could completely cure my fear of heights. But, there is no time. On to the next great adventure.
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