The day I let a stranger lead my family into a dense forest with a machete...The Jungle (Part I)

 It would have been a personal travesty to travel all the down to Ecuador to the South of America and be so painstakingly close to arguably the most well known jungle in the world and not visit it, right?!  The truth is when we first arrived in Cuenca we debated this journey to the jungle and nearly nixed the whole idea all together for a number of really quite valid reasons.  First, we never got our yellow fever vaccination (too expensive) nor did we take our malaria pills (just forgot).  Second, the closest jungle 'entry' to us, which still ended up being at least plus or minus eight hours away mind you, is Macas, in the Southern Oriente, the provincial capital of Morona-Santiago, also known as the wilder and less traversed part of the jungle, and as I previously read, "should never be entered without a knowledgeable guide".  And last but certainly not least...we were traveling with our kids, of course.  Kids and remote, unpredictable jungle are not usually what one (most?) would consider a slam dunk idea.  But then when our good pals Diego and Inga proposed a trip with us to the jungle with their kids (who our kids adore) and with Homero (Diego's dad) we oddly didn't hesitate.  We said when and what exactly do we need to bring?

The weekend started at Homero's house where we met and loaded his car and drove about 15 minutes to a gas station to meet The Vintimillas in their car.  The boys immediately ditched us to ride with them leaving John and I alone in a kid/noise free car with Homero.   About two hours into the trip I started noticing people (multiple, mind you) in cars in oncoming traffic flailing their arms wildly.  Unsurprisingly, it ends up we have a mudslide ahead and there is no passage through and we must turn around and find a new route.  Turn around, like pretty much ALL THE WAY back to Cuenca, turn around.  Oh well...an "adventure" is what we are having, right???  Homero has this endearing and slightly amusing habit of stopping every walking passerby along the route if we are headed in the right direction.  Sure enough the very dirt and gravel road we were currently on was heading to the city we needed to get to, Limon.   We conceded to the fact that the majority of our drive would be snaking around mountains on dirt and gravel, rarely driving over 40 miles per hour.  We drove a whopping four hours and only made it 40 kilometers.  Soooooooo, nearly 198 kilometers and 12 hours later we arrive at our very charming and ultra rustic hostel all tuckered out and ready for bed.

Will not be taking the luxury of  'paved' roads for granted anymore

 The next morning we get up for breakfast and got dressed for our trip into the jungle.  The Duckworth family is appropriately dressed in full rain-proof, weather-proof gear, including the sweet $9 rain boots we picked up in the local market in Cuenca.  The Vintimillas are half as prepared as we are with no boots, just hiking shoes.  Diego shrugs.  John and I exchange nervous glances.  Is this jungle trek really gonna happen?  With no real plans we head out to the middle of the city to find a tourist company or somebody (Anybody?) with any idea of what to do or where to go.  Remember, I already read that you should never enter the jungle here without a knowledgeable guide, so needless to say I was a little nervous about how this would all turn out.  And.....to our luck it did!!

 We pull off the main road where we saw a sign that basically said 'turn here for jungle trekking'.  We drive to the end of the road and see a man with some horses, and some other men and also a whole family starring at us. Hmmmmm......so Homero, a very outgoing and talkative person, introduces himself , states our intentions, and asks about the jungle. The farmer told him that we could head through to the jungle, and we proceed ahead.  All of a sudden I notice a guy with a machete (a sharp, shiny one) and few small boys start to take the lead.  Inga leans over and says, "Just so you are aware, he works for the farmer, who told this man to lead us through the jungle."  Oh thanks Inga. I wasn't nervous at all.   

The jungle here is very dense but there is no doubt that deforestation is occurring as we somewhat sadly see the cut pathways leading us deeper into the jungle and eventually down to the river basin. As we reached the end of the deforested/farmed area, we encountered a creek that was backed up with large amounts of debris. So our new guide, Edi (pronounced like Eddie or Eddy), starts wielding his machete to cut us a neat path that will allow us to be on our way.  With tree bark flying all around us, we prepared to make an assembly line with an adult on each side of the creek to help the kids easily and steadily pass along fallen tree.  One by one, we safely cross the creek.  It was clear at this point that we would not have gotten very far without our very skilled guide and we were all very happy to have him along with us.

The forest here began to get quite lush and even denser and we began to to notice interesting wildlife like large spiders, colorful beetles, giant ferns, various plants and trees with fur-like texture.  But what I think struck me most was all the varying shades of green - light, dark, kelly, chartruese, forest, and beyond.  Along the way Edi would point out interesting finds like a giant ant colony or the jipijapa palms, which are the trees that produce the famous panama hats made from the finely plaited young leaves (panama hats are improperly named - they originate in Ecuador, but in the days of Teddy Roosevelt, they made their way to the outside world through the ports of Panama, and thus gained their name).Then at last we wound down the somewhat steep pathway cleared by Edi to the river, having to steady ourselves on the wet mud. We stopped for a moment to ponder the river and take some pictures.  This was the point where the two smallest kids, Elliott & Eliana, who had been trekking thru the jungle as well as Bear Grylls, started whining and were clearly ready to make there way back out.

So onward and upward we forged and it got tricky tredging up wet mud even more so than going down, so John helped Elliott in several places, but Finn had virtually no help at all.  When we reached the top of the hill, we came upon a small house (wood shack) where Edi told us he once resided.  He had to move, he said, because his kids' clothes would get too muddy on the way to school, having to endure such a long wet hike everyday.  This is also when he informed us that he had eight children and a granddaughter at the ripe old age of....38.

Stay tuned...