AMAZON & THE GALAPAGOS DAY 3 – PLANES, CANOES AND AUTOMOBILES

 

Of the ninety-some volcanoes that dominate the Ecuadorian landscape, none are more iconic than Cotapaxi, the snowcapped 19,000-foot giant just outside of Quito.  Daniella, our affable driver this morning, explains with pride how this peak is so connected to the fabric of the culture of the country while expertly navigating the Monday morning traffic.  She also explains how the infrastructure has not supported the rise of the middle-class car culture, so the government instituted an even-odd system where you can only drive your car on days that correspond to your license plate.  The unexpected result: everyone went out and bought a second car with the other plate and traffic got worse.  And yet we still end up at the airport with time to spare. 

We board the Latam Air flight for the 30-minute trip to Coca that would have otherwise taken 8 hours by car.  Mandy is amazed by the cloud formations, a lower, thinner ceiling layer topped with perfect blue skys, different than we’re used to as they are formed by the evaporation from the rainforest.  Landing on the short runway at Francisco de Orellana Airport is quite the experience, as the rickety warehouse of a terminal is literally set in peoples backyards (although jet wash really does make quick work out of drying your hanging laundry.)   Our flight packed with single men makes much more sense when the first sign we see outside of the terminal said “Halliburton”, calling all the roughnecks to their rides in the 4-door, 4WD minitrucks of the local oilfields. 

5 minutes in the shuttle van and we’re delivered to the LaSelva office on the banks of the Napo River, a major feeder to the Amazon.  We get to kill fifteen minutes in downtown Coca, and those minutes died in vein.  Even the LaCoca Instagram backdrop sign was too sad and deteriorated to selfie in front of.  We are loaded onto our long, flat-bottomed, twin-outboard motor canoe with one other guest and some crew, plus a few locals.  Our host explains that the lodge helps the native people of the rainforest with transportation whenever they can, and we’ll be dropping a few folks off on our way. 

The ride down the Napo takes about 2 hours, and the boat is surprisingly fast (35 knots? 40?) but often has to slow to a crawl or make sharp turns to the complete other bank to avoid the minefield of fallen trees and sand bars that define this water highway.  We’re given a box lunch and a beer and hope the crew members in front of us finally run out of loud conversation.  The first hour is all new and exciting, marveling at the cloud formations, the fast moving coffee colored water and the lush landscape.  The second hour lulls us into a trance-like state, the low vibration of motors helping us doze in and out of consciousness.  The two local women, one carrying a brand new bar for her Stihl chainsaw, disembark and it's only another 10 minutes or so before we do as well. 

At our waypoint, the crew unloads our bags onto welded steel carts with VW rims then pull them by hand the 100 yards to the waiting paddle canoe.  It’s a short walk and world of difference.  If being on the Napo was like being on the highway, being on the tiny stream is akin to being in church.  The people on the canoe instinctively whisper as to not disturb the nature.  I hate to describe it as a Disney ride, but you can definitely see where the Imagineers got their inspiration.  Some exotic birds and big turtles even greet us along our paddle a la Snow White. 

The stream opens up into a wide lake, at the end of which is the LaSelva Eco-Lodge and Retreat carved caringly and sustainably into the Amazon Rainforest.  Getting off the canoe is a cross between stepping off the seaplane onto Fantasy Island and the opening scene from every season of White Lotus.  Cool washrags and welcome drinks on the dock are a prelude to the welcome orientation where we get the lay of the land of a taste of the rhythm of the days here.  The entire resort is just 13 lodges, and ours is one of the few right on the lake.  The buildings are all made from locally sourced materials, and even the structural supports and columns are made from massive bamboo trunks.  Our luxury room has no heat (you’d never need it), no air conditioning (too wasteful but there is a ceiling fan), no windows (just screens), and no locks (there’s no crime).  It’s 2:30 and our first hike is in just 2 hours so we barely have time to settle in, unpack and get a few minutes of shuteye.  Sleep is tough because of the volume of the raucous animal party going on right outside our balcony.

It's still 90F/80% RH when we don our lodge supplied, knee-high rubber boots and head out into the jungle at 4:30.   Five guests, Omar, our resort guide and Guillermo, our local guide, make up our expedition team today.  We’re not even off the lodge path when we have our first wildlife sighting, a Howler monkey passing high in the trees.  It happens so fast that I don’t even have my camera set yet, so we just watch and enjoy.  Omar and Guillermo take care to explain the interdependent relationships among the diverse flora and the fauna of the rainforest, better then the best nature documentary you’ve seen because (a) it’s live and (b)  leaning on the wrong thing can result in egregious bodily harm or death.  (That’s the first rule of the Amazon… DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING YOU DON’T KNOW!  It’s only the first rule because it’s a more common rookie mistake than peeing in the lake.) 

One of our favorite jungle adaptations is the Walking Palm.  With the density of the jungle, trees are in a fierce competition for sunlight, the taller hogging up the rays from the shorter.  This innovative tree has it root system start about 5 feet above the ground.  It drops its roots on the shady side and grows more roots on the sunny side, allowing it to effectively reposition itself, or walk, to a better growing position.

The sun sets around 6 and we board a canoe to continue our adventure in the dark.  From the water, we spot the elusive Pirarucu, the largest freshwater fish in the world stretching up to 10 feet and weighing in up to 400 pounds.  To make it even better, he’s here in the shallows along the side of the stream keeping watch over a school of his babies.  We go on to encounter hundreds of bats flying inches from us, this species having developed an adaptation to not only eat insects but also to use their echolocation skills to hunt small fish from just below the waters’ surface.  We even spot a Cayman bobbing in the lake, the size of its gator-like head indicating it is around 12 feet long.   On the paddle back, we turn our attention upward for some magnificent stargazing.  Because we’re so close to the equator, we can see the Big Dipper, Orien’s Belt and the Southern Cross all at the same time.  We even get a marvelous view of the Milky Way, a rare treat for Mandy and me. 

(12 foot Cayman? Loch Ness Monster? Bathing Bigfoot?  You decide!)

We have about 30 minutes to get ready for dinner, but it’s relatively pointless.  The air is so still and thick that you start to perspire as soon as you towel off.  A gourmet meal is shared with our expedition group and we get to know the couple from England and the woman from Australia a bit better.  Back to our room, turndown service included unfurling a mosquito netting around our bid, a romantic and practical touch here in the jungle.

Today was a gift and sleep comes easily.