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Friday, August 2, 2013

Caitlin and Megan do Ecuador: Part III and THE END!

Caitlin and Megan do Ecuador: Part III

Turns out, I need to actually write a re-cap all on one sitting; otherwise it takes 5 months to get everything written down.

So, continuing from my last post...

We got on a bus and BAM! Just like that we were back in the mountains in Quito. It was a long bus ride, and not a lot of sleep was had by either of us. We arrived back at the ghetto-ish bus station in Quito early in the morning during the pouring rain. It was too early to go anywhere… and we didn’t really have anywhere to go. So, we curled up on some plastic seats with our bags and tried to sleep. Only, we didn’t. The little bus station was crammed with people trying to stay warm or dry and others selling cookies and socks (yeah, vendors walk around selling socks).

Eventually in our sleep deprived state, we decided to try to hail a cab to visit the climbing office. Remember how I said we had planned to climb Cotopaxi but my bag hadn’t come in time? We had been unable to reach the lady who I had booked it through (shady) and so we were going to go to the office in the hope of getting on the climb that left that day. After all, they had told us that a climb was leaving then. Long story short, we couldn’t even FIND the office (the building management didn’t even know who the people were) and so began a tirade of angry emails and phone calls. Eventually they called and offered us a climb in two days, so we would spend the rest of the trip waiting around for this climb. Also, they requested we pay more to join this particular climb. Having already sunk money into it, it was a tough decision but we decided this wasn’t the company we would want to ever climb with and their shady as hell business practices weren’t too enticing. Thankfully, a friend of mine from Ecuador who is a professional mountain guide intervened and was able to get us a partial refund and a half-assed apology. Better than nothing, right?

Bus ride to Latacunga.
 
So what do two gringas do with time in Ecuador? Take a bus into the mountains, duh. We promptly wasted no time in planning our next mini adventure and chose to go hike the Quilatoa loop. Quilatoa is basically an Ecuadorian version of Crater Lake, but at about 11,000 feet elevation and in a very primitive area of the highlands of Ecuador. We took a bus from Quito down to Latacunga to start our adventure.
Latacunga streets.

Countryside from Quito to Latacunga.

Uh, are we ok here?

The view from our hostel roof.

The next morning we rushed to the bus station to catch a ride on a bus to the middle of nowhere. This was a little odd – apparently, Caitlin understood more about how the buses worked but we were taking a local bus that people in the highlands used to get to and from town. I felt really out of place. The bus cruised down the dirt roads like it ain’t no thang. I seriously thought this bus was going to take its last breaths with us, but they must really know bus maintenance down there for these 40 year old buses to climb and descent 5,000 feet every day. I will admit, we looked really out of place. These Americans in weird dress with large bags looking a little helpless and in total awe of the scenery.

 

Woah.

We just kept going up and up this hill, occasionally slowing down to let someone hop on or off the bus. It was gorgeous country, and you would occasionally see this little shanty in the middle of a field where someone no doubt resided. We eventually came to some small towns, but I use this term lightly. I would be surprised if half of them had running water. Caitlin and I were in total awe of the scenery here – it was just STUNNING!

Our bus was hauling – we were making fantastic time. We thought we would start hiking by 12, which would allow us plenty of time to reach our destination for the first night. Suddenly we stopped in what appeared to be a country traffic jam. No, cows weren’t cross the street. There had been a landslide that had taken out the entire road. A little sketchy, yes. They were working to clear it, but with very little heavy lifting equipment it appeared it would take a while. Good thing we brought some snacks. We exited the bus to go play outside and check out the massive landslide that took out the road, when suddenly our bus driver ushered us all back on to the bus. A truck had moved while clearing the landslide, and a few daring drivers (including our bus driver) took a chance and tried to bus it through. A little scary and a lot bumpy, our bus made it through the landslide and promptly stopped at the village bus station where we wanted to get off in Zumbahua. The bus driver almost left without my bag, which left me in a minor panic.
Driving through the landslide.

The next little leg of the trip was probably the most fun. Instead of walking along a long stretch of road for 10 miles or so, we paid a guy $5 to hitch a ride in the back of his cattle truck. He drove like a mad men. Caitlin took a header in to me around a corner. We worked on steadying our feet to snap some pictures of the crazy truck ride, and he eventually delivered us to Laguna Quilatoa. It’s a deep smaller sized version of Crater Lake, but with much prettier surroundings.

Riding in the back of a truck.

Riding so dangerously is so funny.


We started our hike out and eventually made our way in to Chugchilan (Chug-chee-lan). We met a nice English guy on our way there which made for some enjoyable company. We got caught in a torrential downpour, so we hid in an abandoned house to sit out the rain. It wasn’t that it was cold, the rain felt good. But it was coming down in BUCKETS! Eventually it stopped and we made our way to the hostel where they served the best ‘pumpkin’ soup and we could shower.
Hiking over Quilotoa.

Along the rim of the crater.

Looking towards Chugchilan.

Crossing the valley to Chugchilan.

Look closely. There is an ass in my picture.

Caught in the rain storm!

Looking out over the valley.


Yay!

Hiding under a tree keeping dry!

Staying dry in the abandoned house. We decided to do pull ups.

Rain over the valley.

Looking down from the rim of Quilatoa.


Caitlin and I at the top of a hill.
 
We befriended a little dog that was at the hostel. The hostel owner said that the dog had just showed up with some people and never left. It was scrappy and seemed to keep to itself, and they believed it came from Isinlivi (Ee-seen-lee-vee), which is where we were headed. When the hostel owner heard that this was our next stop, he asked if we needed a guide. The trail was rough he said, and it was easy to get lost. Caitlin and I had a look of, ‘puh-lease’ as we politely declined his offer to guide us. We asked for some trail markers of a description of the trail, and he said that you follow the road, until a cattle road branches off at about a mile. You follow that down the hill, take a side trail down to the valley, follow the road down the valley as it turns to a trail. Stay to the left of the river until you get to the last foot bridge before the bend in the river, where you will cross. Walk through the meadows and you will see a trail to your right that will lead you to Isinlivi. See, there were a ton of foot paths going everywhere, as this was the areas main mode of travel. But, we didn’t know that yet so we thought it would be easy to spot where to go.

We started off. Pretty dang happy and in a great mood – what better place to be! We kept the dog with us in hopes that we could get it back to its owner. Plus, it just kind of followed us.
Pretty darn happy, and pretty if I do say so myself.

A cow, a dog, and a girl.

Where we stopped for a snack.

Yeeee!

Caitlin and our k9 friend.

Walking through the meadows!

View from the top of the hill.

Our buddy!

We hiked straight up that hill. You can see the spot where we snacked at the curve of the river in the middle.

Foot bridge sketchiness.

The road that leads to... more roads.


Some kids that were ecstatic about seeing us and followed us for a while!

Caitlin and the dog.

 
 

We headed down into the Valley and made it to the footbridge no problem. It was really humid and pretty hot, but cloudy like it was threatening to storm. The later it got, the worse it looked. We crossed the foot bridge and crossed the only meadow there was to cross and stopped for a brief snack and water, where I discovered a bottle had exploded INSIDE my waterbroof bag, leaving things VERY wet. Not a happy Megan.

After the break we continued on through the meadow expecting to find a trail on this hill. We couldn’t find a trail. We went in circles, combing the area looking for a trail. We back tracked, looked at the dinky little paper map. It’s supposed to be right HERE! We started to get nervous. We couldn’t tell which way were supposed to go and we were losing some time. So, I made the executive decision to just walk straight up the hill. We need to be up there anyways to pass through the valley, and maybe there will be a vantage point up there. We walked up. Straight up. It was pretty fun. Then we found what looked like was a trail that led your through a fence. There was a fence post that was next to a little step up, where you could climb over if you put your foot on this grassy knoll. I was the last to try to climb over, and just as I planted my foot the little grassy knoll gave way. I lost my footing and fell smack onto the top of the fence post. Ouch. My one leg was throbbing, and I knew once the throbbing would go away the stiffness and soreness would set in. Good thing I had my trekking poles! I started crutching on them, which seemed to work ok. Caitlin headed out in front of me, as we were getting nervous with how late it was getting and our severe lack of knowledge as to where we were. We couldn’t tell if the village in the hill was Lisinlivi, and if it wasn’t we would have to act very quick to secure some way to either get there or arrange for another place to stay.

After a really REALLY long walk that seemed to take forever to get to Lisinlivi, we were there. The little village was just what I imagined. Lots of little shanties, very little power, and really nice people. As I walked up the hill to the town, cows were posted to the side of the road to feed on grass. Dogs barked (and charged) as farmers walked around finishing up their days. We got there just in time – clouds rolled in hiding us in a little cloud forest. This was a really high jungle, after all.

Our hostel in Lisinlivi. Pretty awesome place to watch a storm roll through (that cuts out power).
Looking out from the hostel.
 
We hung out in the hostel area, showered, and enjoyed some relaxation time and fire for warmth. I was getting really stiff and hurting pretty bad, but we arranged to take the ONE bus the town has in the morning to get to Sigchos. It was market day, so the bus would be sure to leave whereas on other days it was more just a hope and a prayer that the bus would stop by.

We ate another delicious dinner including the ‘pumpkin’ soup and headed off to bed after Caitlin helped the hostel owner with some of her ‘English’ homework. She was taking classes at a college and was having a hard time grasping some of our phrases and wording, and after trying to explain it, I don’t blame her. English is weird. We got an amazing thunder and lightning storm that night that was actually calming to go to sleep to, and woke up the next morning and quickly grabbed some breakfast. We kept hearing this horn honking, which we thought was weird because there were no cars up here. The bus wasn’t supposed to leave for another hour or so, though, so we thought we were fine. Suddenly, one of the hostel workers came rushing in and said that the bus had been there waiting for us for a half hour and would be leaving soon. We felt so bad – they had held the bus just for us! I hobbled up the road with Caitlin at my side to get on the bus when we saw this:

Walking to the bus. Look closely and to the back of the bus.

At the Sigchos bus stop.

Yep, daredevil sheep.

Enthusiasm!

At first we thought it was a really dare devilish Sheep who was a ‘hop on.’ But as we started down the road in this rickety bus, I feared for the sheep’s sanity and life. There was no way it wasn’t losing its footing on these hairpin turns, and with a steep drop off one side of the road it must be crying itself into a panic. The drive was gorgeous, bumpy, and full of people heading to the market. Plus Caitlin and I. Eventually we made it to Sigchos, which seemed to be the hub of this highland area. The market was huge, with some very unsanitary food stations hanging raw meat up for purchase. I am happy to say I stayed away from eating meat there for the most part out of fear of losing control of my stomach for a few days. As we loaded on to a bus that would take us back to Quito, we saw a Pig, a chicken and a dog tied to the top of buses. I even saw some people climbing on to a local bus. Risk takers!

The bus ride back was gorgeous, but I wasn’t really surprised. Caitlin and I just got to rest and take it all in when… wait, is that a chicken? There was a chicken on the bus. I was so glad I was wearing pants and a jacket. We drove through a couple villages, and it was so nice to see the highlands and the real culture of the area. I really wish I could have spent more time in these mountains hiking village to village – it was a lovely area with truly lovely people.
That is pretty.

We eventually made it back to Quito – phew! Quito started to become really familiar and kind of fun. I started to actually feel comfortable on the buses, even though people still stared. Caitlin and I were so giddy coming back in to Quito on the bus, and also very happy to have found seats so we didn’t have to stand!

We made it back to the hostel where she would stay, but it was my last day there! We grabbed some dinner, hung out a bit more and I showered as I waited for the late hour with no traffic to call a Taxi to drive me the hour plus to the airport.

With sadness I said goodbye to Caitlin! I was so bummed to be leaving, and without her, and jealous of her upcoming adventures! I felt like Ecuador had won this trip, and was so tired and felt depleted that I was happy to retreat to home where I could recuperate.  I made some phone calls from the airport – wifi! And boarded that plane with a really happy heart.

The whole trip back was LONG! In short, I hate American Airlines. Really really hate them with a passion. I have yet to be reimbursed for my bag or ruined trip, and was treated with such an attitude in Miami. I actually was set aside for an hour to deal with a customer service person, who eventually just dismissed me but not after getting an earful. Customs was boring, but uneventful as usual. And finally! English was the main language. After a late night flight from Chicago to home, Joelybean picked me up at midnight in Seattle with open arms!

So, overall Ecuador experience was amazing! I encourage anyone to go! They are really working hard on their tourism industry and working to make the country more accessible and mainstream to attract money. I feel like the country is still really authentic, especially outside Quito, and found it so awesome to be able to visit.


I love these adventures where you are really in touch with reality and accountable for everything. I feel like these trips are where you learn the most about yourself and really truly can see the world and the culture – and that’s what it is all about right? To live life to fullest so hard it hurts; that you are so present it almost brings you to tears. I don’t think I will ever want to stop experiencing things, feeling out of place in such a large world. This world has so much to see, so many things to experience. I still recall moments from all my trips. The crooked tree that hung over a ledge overlooking the beach and ocean; the rainy rocky shore at the southern tip of the South American mainland; the pristine glacier carved valley and the setting sun in the Rockies; the calming alpine sunrise over Mt. Rainier; the early morning mist hugging the cliffs below Machu Picchu. I appreciate and love every happy feeling I have ever had, and urge everyone to do the same. Don’t let anything hold you back; if you want to go somewhere, go. If you want to do something, do it. My life is incredibly busy and pretty jam packed day to day so much so that I don’t feel like I can fit anything else in, but when I look back at my days I wish I could do more and live even more!
 

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Everyone deserves a chance!

Hi friends!

So, as I have mentioned before, I was a swimmer. I swam for about 11 years before being forced to throw in the towel after a career ending injury at the age of 16. While my swimming career was cut short, I still enjoy being around the swimming world and occasionally hopping in the pool. I look back on my time swimming with a lot of happiness; it brought some of the most challenging, happy, sad, and testing times I could have ever had as a young person. I learned so much and developed a passion for the water and athletics that will most likely follow me to my grave. I have a deep passion for athletic endeavors and cherish all of my swim memories, friendships and experiences. Hell, I got to touch Michael Phelps' butt - I don't regret swimming at all!

I am currently working to raise both swimming items (swim suits, caps, goggles, etc.) and funds to purchase some of these items at discounted rates. I am developing a program that will donate swim goodies to families and children that enroll into a swim team scholarship program. The scholarship program will make this wonderful sport more affordable to those who otherwise might not be able to join. Being a member of a swim team is expensive - swim team dues, swim stuff (its not cheap, go look at a Speedo swim suit), meet dues, travel expenses, and then those dang race suits. I want to be able to take some of the sting away to enable kids out there to have some of the same experiences and feelings I had growing up thanks to swimming! I think its only fair that every child has a chance to be a part of something that can be so life changing and have such a positive impact on a person in the long run. I don't know a single athlete that looks back on their career and wishes they weren't involved in it at all (parts, maybe; I would take back being tackled, but that's a different story).

On top of being able to make donations to scholarship families for the swim team, I want to be able to have suits available  at the pool for families and kids to use. Often times families are turned off of the idea of swimming because of the cost associated with it; on top of the pool entry fee, swimmers are required to have suits. Too often, I see kids swimming in clothes which is both REALLY difficult and bad for the pool. The older the children get, the less likely they are to go swimming with friends in clothes. If swim suits are available, my hope is that this will spur a passion for the water and swimming.

It is a tragedy that people die every year from water related accidents because they don't know how to swim, something that is so easily preventable by getting involved with your local aquatic center and getting your kids in lessons. Swimming is also a healthy sport and one that is SO FUN to be in (I am biased), and I want all kids to have the option to swim. Its a lifelong skill and sport that will never disappoint. And playing a part in allowing a family of five to go to the local pool and swim together, what's better than that!?

I am accepting swim suits of any size, seriously, even toddlers, and any swimming gear you might have. I am also accepting monetary donations to allow me to buy swim suits for the team scholarship program; an old swimming friend of mine is helping me with obtaining suits at a discounted price. Please consider helping out the cause and feel free to reach out to me if you find you are able to help me out!

Thanks!

Monday, July 22, 2013

Oh, it's so hot.

And yes, I mean the temperature.

For my second triathlon, I signed up to do the Olympic Distance Chelanman (1.5k swim, 40k bike, 10k run) with the idea I would train harder than I had before and kick some ass. The only problem is that life is busy and chaotic and messy, and we all know things sometimes just get in the way. I also tend to coast of my relatively natural athletic ability (come on, you've seen my shoulders). Luckily, I can easily rely on my past swimming accomplishments for what most people find is the hardest leg. So, basically, I didnt train. I hadnt ridden my bike in about three weeks, I maybe ran once or twice a week (nothing crazy) and swam two or three times a week.

BBQ'ing the night before the race at the campground with Alex.

So, I knew what was coming. Still, I was really excited. Its a gorgeous area and the lake is really clear! My dad was coming, a childhood friend was racing with me, and my Joelybean was going to be my triathlete wife for the day.

Way too early this morning we woke up at the campsite and got ready. Crystal clear morning. Pretty flat water.

Pumpin' up them tires.

My thoughts or events throughout the race:

5 minutes to race - Wait, do I have everything? (I was forgetting things left and right all Friday and Saturday morning).

3 minutes to start - oh, waters not bad. Damn, that's a lot of people.

1 minute to start - oh my gosh, this is going to hurt. so. bad.

30 seconds after the start - Oh good god you desperate thrashing swimmers. GET OFF ME.

I am somewhere to the left in the front.

1 minute into the swim - a guy crawls up my back and starts stroking in between my legs, not allowing me to kick. I knee him in the face. Problem solved.

5 minutes into swim - I am now swimming alone and finally found the cable along the swim so I didnt have to sight anymore!

About 16 minutes into swim - I got lost. Not just like swimming in the wrong direction. I am way off course. People were trying to point me in the right direction but I couldnt see ANYTHING. Joel was yelling and whistling at me to go 'this way' but I didn't know where that was. Every time I lifted my head up to sight, all I saw was bright shiny sun. Luckily I made it to the last buoy and ran in!


First in off the swim... even though I got really lost.
 


I didn't do yoga or take a shower or do my hair this time in transition.

3 miles into the bike ride - oh, I feel good.

4 miles into bike - the only girl the entire ride passed me.

14 miles - attempted to actually use a gel on the bike. Successful at keeping it down, but definately did not love the flavor.

17 miles into bike - almost hit a chipmunk, which gave me flashbacks to running over Rufus. I almost went down out of pure fear.

18 miles into bike - Holy shnikies! I am kicking ass. This rocks. It hurts, but it rocks.

19 miles into bike - singing the 'banana' song from the Despicable Me commercial. You can see them sing it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Db04mQkizds&noredirect=1 (only watch it if you want it stuck in your head).

20 miles into bike - thoughts on lunch were beer and a burger.


Feelin' good!

coming into the bike/run transition - yay! I get to see Joel and my dad! (I quickly spot them as the two tall guys yelling my name) I smile very big to let them know I am kicking ass, just in case there was any doubt.

transition from bike to run - would I be penalized for jumping in the lake really quick? Current air temperature felt like a cool 82 degrees while body temperature felt like 102.


Headed out on the run.

run up the hill - oh my gosh, I cant walk this with all these people around here. (Big thanks to Joel for catching these moments on camera).

half a mile into the run - a guy who looks like a good triathlete running right in front of my grunts and moans until he slows to a walk, when he decides to be his own cheer leader and claps and yells his name. I like his tactics, so I do the same but in my head. From what I could tell, the results were the same - we both looked like hell.

about a minute later - I slow to a walk thanks to a killer tight calf that won't let up. Girl who looks equally as pained and hot as I do pats me on the back and says, 'you've got this.' My thoughts exactly, stranger fellow racer.

mile into the run - seriously, can I opt to swim the 10k? Where the helll is the shade?

first water station - thanks, im good. Ill just stay right here and use all your water cups to drench myself in ice water.

For the next 2 miles - thoughts of hate towards the sun and heat gods. Oh, and I hate Hammer Heed. So dissapointed that was all that was on course.

About ten feet before the turn around point - thoughts on lunch switch to a fudgcicle, popsicle, milkshake and ice cream sandwich.

Halfway point - I grab a cup full of ice and feel like I won the lottery. I munch on some ice as I jog on, and quickly decide to poor some ice down my top. It felt like a slice of Arctic heaven.

3.3 miles into the run - Oh this is what it feels like. I am chaffing for the first time ever. It kind of is uncomfortable. Time to run like a chicken.

3.4 miles into the run - I had been playing leap frog the whole run with this guy and we always cheered eachother on each time we passed. Finally we jogged a bit together and I found out Kyle had done the half iron last year but in an attempt to not train as much he settled for the Olympic. He said on a day like today, he couldnt even imagine being out on that half iron course.

4 miles - There is a nice shady spot to lay down and take a nap. Too bad its already taken by all these spectators yelling at me to 'finish strong.' Look at me, I am bright red and feel like I am more shuffling than running. Let's get real here, I am just finishing.

Last two water stops - screw the cups, guys, lets get real. Give me a cooler. What is it, 110 outside?

Final long stretch - legs bonk. I bonk. My tummy feels like it wants to turn inside out and my legs just won't go. I feel more like gumby than myself. I want to walk but turn around to see the mass of people behind me. What kind of photo op would it be if I finish with a mass group of people? I keep on chugging.

500 meters from the finish - theres a hill, but it might as well have been Mt. Everest. I would have been better off speed walking up the hill. I must have looked so terrible that people thought I was a lost cause, because no one cheered for me. No doubt I had a pain face that could win awards.

200 meters from finish- downhill. Normally I would find relief in this, but my legs couldnt quite operate the way I wanted to. Just stay upright, Megan. Don't trip.

Seconds before finish - oh I see it! But where is Joel? Where's my dad? Are they here? Oh gosh, cameras. Quick. Try to look strong and cool. Finish with ease (yeah, right).

Finally, the finish!

I finish. No confetti fell from the sky and no one was playing Queens 'We are the Champions', so I moved on. I slowly walked over to the water with one goal. Jump in and lay down.

Ouch.
Where is my popsicle?
Water is so much more rewarding the second time around.

Joel and my dad came over, both of them happy I finished and pretty proud. Them being happy made me feel happy, and relieved that I could lay here in this lake and cool off for as long as I wanted to. My dad was my savior and ran to get me some Nuun while Joel stayed with me on the edge of the lake. He gave me a kiss and said 'you did great!' with an encouraging look. And knowing he meant that, it felt good.

5 minutes after finishing - Wow! I need to work out more. Seriously, start training Megan.

10 minutes after - water water water. Nuun Nuun Nuun. And munch on some nuts. I am not quite sure what else to do.

And the results were up! I got second in my age group. A great girl named Jenny who was competing for Luna passed me right at the end and had a great race and took first in our age group! I look forward to seeing her out on some other race courses - an amazingly friendly competitor! I was happy with this considering my severe lack of doing, well, much of anything at all before hand. I was 19th woman overall. Ill take that. My swim time was alright, and would have easily been much faster (minute plus) had I not gotten lost. I felt good, strong, and hardly swam any backstroke thanks to the constricting wetsuit! My bike was quick, moving at about 19.4 mph average. I think I would have been a bit faster had I had my TT bike that Joel got me with aero bars, and also had ridden more than twice before the race. I felt really really strong on the bike, and really really happy about my bike portion. I felt strong! Run was... awful. I thought I was hitting sub 9's for most of it, but my AVERAGE was 9:14. Ouch. My calf hurt the entire way and I was severely over done. I need to run more; more miles, more quality training, and more speed work and I will be good. But on top of the time, the run felt terrible. I felt like it was easily 90 plus out on the sun baked pavement without any shaded areas. I honestly don't remember the last time I ran that slow. I was pretty dissapointed with my lame finish, but relatively happy with my two other legs. I accepted my award and headed on home with Joelybean and my dad. I was so happy they could be there and be my support crew! I felt I was much calmer on my second triathlon and dare I say it, a bit excited! I had so many people ask if I knew a specific person who worked at Nuun and a couple other people tell me that they loved my stuff (Nuun!). Its always fun to hear a kind word out on a lonesome hour long bike ride.

Alex and I on the podium.
Don't mind my bloated stomach. I drank a lot of water.

I know I said this last time, but I will train for the next one. And if I come back and do Chelanman not only will I plan a bit better, but I will train and kick way more ass.

All in time for my 26th Birthday. Gosh, is that all?