With Bosca leading, the three of us continue trekking like this for about seven hours, although time has little meaning and the only thing keeping me going is the prospect of being lost in the jungle if I stopped. There’s only these two, one of whom I can’t converse with, who knows where we are. The next sight though is very welcoming, particularly as I know it’s our camping area for the night. In front of us is a lake or lagoon called, like the village we left so much earlier, Guagua Sumaco. It makes me realise how easy it would be to go round in circles if one were to keep asking for directions to Guagua Sumaco. We are at a height of around 2,525 metres. I am also advised not to go swimming, as there’s a huge serpent that lives under the water and feeds on unsuspecting travellers. I manage a laugh but then see by Bosca’s face that it’s no joke, and even Pablo seems to believe it. Although tempted I decide not to take chances, as perhaps the fable came about because there’s an underwater eddy or current waiting to suck someone down, so I don’t wade in too far, though I have to remove my boots and bathe my aching feet. The water’s muddy and swirls pleasantly around my feet, feeling very soothing. I have developed some small but painful blisters and afterwards I coat them with Vaseline and stick some plasters over.
I am starting to feel almost human again, and there are great views in all directions with flocks of birds swooping low over the lake before nesting down for the night. It’s time for us to do the same. We have one tent to share but there’s a broken hut that seems easier so with the quickly dropping temperature we huddle inside as best we can. I cover myself with mosquito repellent and use a net, although this refuses to cover all the places it should and I know that I am probably providing dinner, and can only hope they prefer their food home grown. In my dream of the mountain I am already on the summit. There is a rumbling as it erupts all around me, and the serpent from the lake is emitting fumes of fire, which set light to the long grass. I am struggling to breathe, and the continuing rumbling suddenly wakes me. It turns out to be Bosca’s or Pablo’s snoring, or possibly both. The next dream is quieter.
In the morning, although it still seems night, I am woken for a very early start. We leave everything behind except for small daypacks to carry water and food, and I just take my waterproof top. It’s a tiring climb up and down several ridges before dropping down to a saddle at over 2,800 metres, stretching between one peak and the mountain proper. Eventually we leave the jungle areas and reach the páramo, and then it’s a relatively easy climb to the summit ridge itself. It’s taken about three hours from the first saddle, and now at about 3,250 metres we cut down to the right to another saddle. From there we are able to climb the summit cone to achieve the summit of 3,732 metres, from where we can see, way below, the River Napo snaking its way through the rainforest. There are two uninteresting telecommunication huts on the summit that look totally out of place, and I have no inclination to visit. I need to stop instead and think about this special jungle mountain climb, and despite my tiredness I experience real joy. The weather’s extremely clear and I can see over the jungle canopy in all directions to a number of mountains in the distance, to the west and to the south. Pablo points out the other jungle mountain, Reventador. There are some wisps of light cloud above it which look like smoke, and for a moment I wonder if it’s erupting. Perhaps there’s someone on Reventador looking at Sumaco and thinking the same. I imagine I can see Chimborazo, the tallest, in the far distance. The more I stare across the more I seem to see it, until it seems to start beckoning me, although this could just be the sunlight reflecting on the snow peaks of the several majestic mountains. I have to believe that soon I’ll be there and perhaps I might make the summit. After the last few days I feel anything is possible. Bosca is very impatient to return, the wedding or the bride won’t wait and soon, too soon, we are plunging back into the jungle, struggling hard to keep up with his incredible pace, so as not to be left behind.
CHAPTER 15
FLORA AT THE
EQUATOR
Isee and smell such wonderful flowers and plants in Ecuador that sometimes my senses are overwhelmed. Many are ‘exotics’, generated through the intense tropical heat of this equatorial country. There are exquisite blossoms and vibrant greens of every shade, and an artist could spend a lifetime here and only paint a small fraction of what is on offer.
Ecuador, although relatively tiny in size (it covers just two per cent of the Earth’s surface), is home to ten per cent of the world’s plant species, mostly growing in the northeast of the Amazon region, where over 10,000 species exist. The entire total of different flowering plants in the country is estimated at more than 20,000. ‘The sensation of delight which the mind experiences’ are Charles Darwin’s own words and they help to express and convey the extravagant and staggering beauty which he and so many others have experienced in coming to this ‘Garden of Eden’.
Evolving over millions of years the vegetation in these regions has adapted to the power of the climate, whether receiving the intense rays of the sun from being at the Equator or experiencing the night and early morning harsh frosts and icy conditions of the high mountainous regions. Plants and flowers in Ecuador, as in most South American countries, were given their Latin names by the conquering Spanish, as part of the mandatory introduction and instillation of the Catholic faith in the sixteenth century. As a rule these Latin names have been retained, along with the addition of a few nicknames, rather than the flora acquiring more ordinary and colloquial names as in most European countries. Of course the indigenous Ecuadorians have had to contend with the more immediate and harsh reality of coping with the difficulties of survival within a volatile environment. They and the incoming settlers learning to live in ‘the New World’ did not have the time to become a nation of gardeners, so mostly the Latin botanist names have remained.
There is one clear exception to this rule however and that is flos pasionis, the pasionaria, the pasiflora or passionflower, considered the most glorious flower in the country and indeed in many other South American countries. The name was given to it by the Jesuit priests in the sixteenth century, who believed that this was the flower of God and that it contained special messages to be understood only by the faithful. Every part of the flower was taken to symbolise something relating to the crucifixion, the five outer sepals and the five petals being taken to be the number of the apostles present, even the leaves representing the Roman soldiers and their spears. It was actually officially noted by scholars and priests that the religious meaning had been ‘hidden from the heathen people of those countries until the time pre-ordained by His Highest Majesty’.
Whatever your belief or religion is, there is no denying the passionflower is a real beauty and produces a range of intoxicating fragrances. The flower is mainly star-shaped and the colour combinations are immense; all shades of blues, reds, pinks, mauves and purples, including the pure white, and even a rare yellow variety. The leaves are usually dark green and leathery but can be lighter and roughly textured. The main vine stalk is thick and strong, enabling it to carry a wealth of flower and leaf, the ten flower petals feel waxy to the touch and there are alluring ‘eyelashes’ sprouting all around the central corona. There are many kinds to be found throughout the country and the names include Purple Rain, Amethyst and Incense. Initially examples were carefully transported to Spain but couldn’t flourish in the cooler climate, and it wasn’t until the invention of the glasshouse and the conservatory that a passion for this flower could be more easily developed and its cultivation then quickly spread throughout Europe. It has a special use to aid the explorer and mountaineer as it can be used as a timepiece because it opens fully at midday. It’s not a lot of use at other times but the smell is always special.
As usual the main colour of the ordinary plants here is green, although there are a number of different shades of other colours with red in particular to add some variety in the landscape. The reddish lipocodio, a slim elegant tight stick of a plant, often grows in groups within the otherwise
green sea of plants. In the higher regions due to the harshness of the weather and the extremely low temperatures experienced overnight, the leaves of plants as a rule generally have curved, waxy skins to absorb or reflect the sun’s radiation. They are also smaller and thicker to protect against the bitter cold conditions, and are covered with a fine down that acts as further insulation. Many of the plants growing on the plains of the páramos particularly are rather small and grow in tight and concentrated formations spreading over huge areas. There are the green almohadillas, which are multi-leaved and grow in colonies in vast bunched-up profusion.
Moreover, there are the unusually-shaped, giant frailejones (part of the espeletia family) and, with their bulky leafy shapes waving in the grey mists, they have been mistaken for groups of monks praying, which is why their common name translates as grey friars. They can reach almost human height and are usually found near water where the area around can be very swampy and treacherous. The flowers tend to be rather small and grow low at ground level to protect as much as they can against the strong winds and the intense cold they bring. They will nestle amongst the grasses for further protection. The cenecio plant, which has curly, velvety green leaves and bulbous tops, together with some of the hardier grasses can grow in heights up to 5,000 metres.
At the highest levels lichens will cling to rocks that the snows of the glacier, for whatever reason, have ignored and they have gradually fought their way upwards as the ice has retreated. Further south there are also the puyas which grow even taller than the frailejones and have short spiky leaves, growing up from a narrowed trunk, usually within the grasses covering the páramos. The tall chuquiraguas, used as lookout perches by a variety of birds, can be found at the approaches to many mountains as if being the outlying sentinels to warn of strangers approaching. Bromeliads abound everywhere of course and in some dryer areas are used to extract drinking water. There is a long, spiky grass plant called zigzes which grows amongst the pajonal and is the most common of all. A legacy of the last glacier age means that within the páramos there are many small lakes and ponds with all types of water plants happily cohabitating. These water plants help to attract birds and insects with which to interact and surrounding the streams and ponds often are pantsas forests. Though it is primarily the jungle and the rainforest that are filled with the really useful medicinal plants, the properties of which have still not yet been fully explored or utilised, the Andes region itself has alone more than 8,200 plant and vegetable species.
Orchids are in abundance everywhere and over 2,700 species – 11 per cent of all the world’s species and 30 per cent of the species classified in Latin America – are found here, with new ones are regularly being found. The Galapagos itself has 600 indigenous species and 250 more have been introduced. Fifteen new species were even recently found in the uninhabited Llanganates National Park and there must be many more for the adventurous to discover.
There are continuing and determined attempts to transplant and grow orchid species in many parts of the world. The internationally famous Kew Gardens in Surrey, England, have grown many kinds in their ‘hot houses’, although their experienced gardeners and horticulturists know they cannot hope to compete with the natural conditions of the tropical and equatorial treasure trove that is Ecuador. Orchids in the wild are generally rare in the British Isles but a new kind has recently been discovered on Holy Island. DNA testing has proved that the tiny green orchid, once thought to be part of the same family as the dune helleborine group of orchids already known on the island, is genetically different. It is being classified as a species in its own right. If that can be the outcome in a country like Britain, then there is a very strong likelihood that the orchids in Ecuador, if examined and DNA tested in the same way, may be found and to prove the existence of many more species.
The wisdom and knowledge contained within the plant world is largely untapped and there are so many species that need careful examination and research with immense potential benefits. One example refers to the curare poison used by the indigenous tribes to coat their arrow or dart tips which can render any creature targeted unconscious for several minutes, so it can be collected and bagged for future cooking and eating. The indigenous tribes know exactly how much curare to put on in order to kill or just to render unconscious. This poison after being clinically analysed led directly to the creation of d-tubocurarine, a very potent muscle relaxant. Administered during surgery it has helped considerably in reducing the level of anaesthesia required. This is extremely important, as many patients cannot either tolerate the use of anaesthesia generally or they have a low threshold of tolerance.
The indigenous tribespeople have many uses for the bamboo and it grows in profusion throughout the jungle. They use it for hunting, fishing and building, even in creating a stretcher if one of them is hurt and needs to be carried through the jungle. It’s a very versatile bush and it has an extremely quick growth rate of over 12 inches a day. The shamans of the rainforest have also learned to use the secrets of the yage plant and combining it with other plants they have been able to produce hallucinogenic and psychoactive substances and drinks. They then allow at certain and special times some tribespeople to drink them in order to experience mind imagery which can be beneficial in dealing with mental problems and anxieties (of course they can also produce these effects). These substances can have positive, negative or even nil effects, depending on which other compounds they are mixed with. The shamans and many indigenous tribes are able to recognise easily which plants have these appropriate properties, even if there are thousands of plants and leaves to choose from. They also know in what proportions to mix them with other plants in order to achieve the many different effects possible. This knowledge, complex in so many ways, has been passed down from generation to generation. Another interesting plant is called yoco, which contains caffeine stimulants and can allow someone to stay awake for very lengthy periods. Yoco is often used by hunters who will trail an animal for days in order to catch it. They believe it allows them to be as one with the forest.
Health in the rainforest comes through balancing the spiritual with natural forces, achieving harmony and equilibrium. There is so much to be gained in this way. The destruction of great swathes of the forests can indeed be only a very short term benefit to a few, leading to so much greater and continuing loss in the future to the many. Unfortunately those at such terrible risk cannot make their voices heard and we must speak and shout out for them, acting now whilst there is still time.
CHAPTER 16
CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL
Iam fascinated by the animals, birds and insects to be found in Ecuador, and Pablo agrees to travel on with me to see what we can discover together. We plan to stay in different eco lodges for a few days so we trek out very early each morning as well as late at night, to observe some of this country’s creatures in their natural environment. We agree to spend more time in the jungle as well as in the mountain regions, and Pablo has a wealth of knowledge, which he is very happy to share with me. I learn so much from him and use my research in the Libri Mundi bookshop in Quito to add more information.
The most fearsome of all the flying birds by far is the eagle, which can spot prey over three kilometres away. The eagle is an out and out killer, the top of all the raptors and a superb flying machine. Its beak and its talons can only be described as razor sharp and if it decides on an attack the odds are very much in its favour. It can even see through water and the fish, which is a creature with poor eyesight, is unlikely to spot the eagle hovering above. The fish would have no chance of surviving the attack, as an eagle’s grip is stronger than a dog’s bite and it won’t let go until it has carried out its deadly intention. Its legs are as thick as a man’s wrists and its claws about the size of a man’s hands. Knowing the strength and power of the eagle, it is not surprising that the tribesman will strive to capture one by luring it with a small prey and then trapping it in a net. He will keep it in his home and would only
consider eating it if the family circumstances are very dire indeed. There are three kinds here, the crested eagle and the hawk-eagle, with the harpy eagle, black and grey in colouring, being the world’s largest at over one metre in height.
The Andean condor is also a colossus of the bird kingdom although as its Latin name implies (Vulture gryphus) it is carrion eating and does not seek out its own prey. It has a wingspan of approximately three metres, larger than the eagle’s and indeed larger than that of any other flying bird in the world. Moreover, its weight of about 12 kilograms makes it one of the world’s heaviest birds. The female is very slightly smaller than the male and the only other difference is that the male has a skin plume on its head. As long as the male can spot the difference, that’s all that matters I suppose. From afar it is a magnificent flying creature but close up it’s very ugly, with a wrinkled, bare, pink head, a white neck ruff, set atop a black body. Presumably it is not ugly to another condor though. The condor roosts and nests high on the mountain and rock faces in extremely inaccessible places. It uses the rising air currents called thermals to fly, the feathers opening or closing to control direction and the very broad tail is used as a rudder to guide it in flight. It has exceptional eyesight and can spot a carcass from a long way off, and when it dives down to it several other condors will usually follow, as they all generally like to keep a condor eye on each other to see where any kill has been spotted. As the condor lives for up to 50 years it has a slow breeding rate and will usually mate for life. A pair will breed only a single white egg at a time, laid either on the bare rock face or in a crevice, and will share incubating and feeding duties. Sadly it has been hunted extensively so there are only now about 150 condors in the wild. Its close cousin is, of course, the vulture, and there are many everywhere in Ecuador, on the páramo and in the forests.
Climbing The Equator Page 16