Finca Sommerwind

There are places along the PanAmerican Highway where overlanders gather and this is one of them. 

Matilda and Sammy from England bought their tiny Chinese-built N300 van from a traveling rock climber in Chile. It’s a basic bed space with outdoor kitchen, not enough room and prone to breakdown.

After Matilda finishes strangling the campground dog they have to get it back (the van) to Chile in August to sell it on to another intrepid traveler. It’s what European youngsters do in South America. And as previously illustrated their machine is tiny compared to ours. I gave Sammy a tour so he can get some ideas about their next home on wheels. 

Finn grew up in San Francisco but lives in Colorado and rides a BMW he rebuilt himself from a machine wrecked and given a salvage title. He is one of those wild travelers I admire (and fear) who seek out difficult dirt backroads. He hates the heat and humidity of the beach and stays in the mountains. He’s taken rooms in Quito because he also explores cities.  I hope we meet him again to find out what he has discovered. A bit of rain doesn’t bother him:

I didn’t get a picture of Olga without her helmet and it’s a shame because she is a totally capable world traveler. She grew up in Poland and has traveled alone all over the Far East living here and there and settled finally in Australia. She travels light and slept of the rain in one of Sommerwind’s cabins. I met her while I was walking Rusty in the rain and she was leaving. We had sat around the night before drinking German beer and talking. 

Florian the German mechanic who found our fuel hose problem has been living at this German campground for five weeks working for Hans the owner. His Volkswagen has no engine as the turbo charger broke and scattered metal into the engine wrecking it. 

He is waiting for parts from Germany while a machine shop in nearby Ibarra is repairing his crankshaft. He couldn’t find a new one and Ecuador doesn’t allow the import of refurbished crankshafts. Why? I doubt even the Ecuadorians who invented that stupid rule know why. 

He and his girlfriend hope to be back on the road in three weeks.

Americans will tell you never to tow a trailer in Latin America but this French family has come up from Argentina and are doing fine.

Mom and Dad have five kids and the Land Rover and trailer each. transform into a spacious roof top tent. 

The variety of vehicles on the road is surprising and we have met all sorts of vans trucks and cars pressed into service that we never see in the US. Taxes in Europe favor the use of diesel which is cheaper than gasoline but I prefer our gas powered Promaster over the diesel powered European versions of our van. 

 Miriam and David out of tiny Luxembourg say their Land Rover has trouble starting  from cold at altitude where the air is thinner. They’ve been two years on the road in South America and are an upbeat fun couple. Their route planning is “complicated” so who knows if we will meet again. 

We make a point of trying to get a photo and a bit of a bio of each traveler we meet partly for the memory and to have a reason to catch a piece of their story but also as a reminder if we meet them further down the road. 

Hans the owner of Finca Sommerwind (summer wind farm) has been in Ecuador married to a local for 14 years so he is well known to travelers and Ecuadorian authorities. He helped get us the flat bed and his restaurant is a place locals come to as well as travelers staying at Sommerwind. 

He helped a group of us plan places to see and avoid in Ecuador. Volcanoes, Amazon jungle, historic towns and safe beach areas are all on the list.

It’s a strange spot, next to a race track and driving school, across the lake from Cotacachi Volcano, with the town of Ibarra also across the water, who would come here if it wasn’t for Sommerwind? It’s an easy drive to the Colombia border, a place with all the facilities a camper wants, and even a place to store your vehicle if you want to dispense the summer with family in Europe.  

I never cease to be amazed how few Americans there are on the road. Europeans are far more at home down here. 

I am surprised  when I come across these characters who make homes for themselves far from home. Hans mangles some English but it’s not his comfort zone so I couldn’t really learn more about him.  This is a German hangout and perhaps I simply lacked the skill to be able to bridge the cultural gap. 

We are off today and I hope finally I shall cross the equator for the first time in my life. Not a huge feat as it’s about forty minutes south of here. But I have also heard the heavy rains have caused mudslides closing highways. We maintain our usual skill of causing chaos wherever we go. 

But go we do. 

Run and a campfire to keep out the nighttime damp. 

Finca Sommerwind, Ibarra, Colombia. 

Barely There

Don’t be embarrassed if you’ve never heard of the Andean Bear. We hadn’t either until Layne started poking around the Lonely Planet guide for Ecuador. We decided to go see what we could see at the bear lookout.

The main road out was a lovely drive after we broke out from under the heavy rain of the morning. 

This was where we broke down so driving by was a landmark. 

I find a lot of travelers down here seek out dirt roads and wilderness. I can see why Europeans feel that way as wilderness camping isn’t easy to find on an overpopulated continent. Why you’d come here from the US to miss the culture and the history which fills these lands baffles me. Luckily there’s room for all of us and my pleasure in asphalt and easy driving baffles others in turn. I’d just like to see more Americans here driving as they wish. 

It was a pleasant drive and then we turned off the highway.

We were only at 5600 feet but the high peaks all around us gave us a first feeling of really being in the Andes. 

Off the highway the side road up into the mountains saw the road narrow considerably. 

After the bridge the road got even worse as the asphalt ended. 

And the cobbles began. I hate cobbles as they make our heavy van bounce. Slowly does it. 

Locals aren’t deterred and come at you like they want to see you dead. It’s unnerving. 

And then the dirt began with signs of previous rain.  We pressed on a bit. 

It was about here the Google Map got lost and with the signal for our cellphone long gone we looked at the intersection. The downhill was very steep, but we poked our nose down. If it rained this would be mud and we both decided no. GANNET2 is running nicely so why try to wreck our van here? 

Vertigo Road didn’t inspire confidence so we backed up and turned around. 

I think that if this kind of stuff is important a more versatile car is indicated. It’s not just a question of will the van get there it’s also a question of how much damage will you sustain. Clutches and brakes fail on lots of vehicles which get over stressed in these mountains. 

Even pavement is steep around here. 

We came up at 20 mph trying not to stress anything and back downhill we drove in first and second manual gear to save the brakes. 

All I can think is this is the road for next three thousand miles to Chile. Sigh. The future is one of patience and taking our time. I guess there’s a reason why the PanAmerican is a tough road to drive. We continue south; maybe we’ll see bears further along. 

Breakdown And Resurrection

Three hours after we left the campground at Finca Sommerwind we returned like conquering heroes with a broken van. The photo above was taken by our Belgian neighbor who could only ask, stupefied, what happened? Indeed.

We broke down and GANNET2 got to take the ride of shame. We were pootling along on our way to an Andean bear sanctuary for an afternoon drive at a pleasant low key 40 miles per hour when, half way there the engine died. I looked stupidly at the revolutions dropping rapidly to zero and quickly steered for the edge of Highway 35. 

Latin American countries require drivers to carry emergency equipment and we have it all, triangles included. After I secured the scene I looked under the hood and smelled gasoline. It was dripping and pooling on the engine. Glad I was it only costs $2:47 a gallon in Ecuador! Layne meanwhile WhatsApp’ed Hans the owner of the campground and sent him our location on Google maps.

I had a suspicion the fuel leak was related to the recent oil cooler replacement we had done in Colombia. The fuel injector rail is the black rod behind the oil filler cap and it had had to come out to get the work done. Layne was filled with frustration but I was strangely calm so she set to cooking vegetables to relieve her stress and Rusty, no trouble at all put in some sunbathing time.

Patricio promised he would be with us in 90 minutes; in the event he arrived in 75 according to Layne’s WhatsApp records. He got us on the flatbed truck in minutes and made a freeway u-turn as you do in Ecuador.

Traffic rolled around us with no concerns. We both decided to wear our seatbelts for the elevated ride back to the campground. 

Then there was the police checkpoint. In Ecuador they are serious business as the government is driving home a war with the cartels in the same way El Salvador recently destroyed its gangs by  imprisoning thousands of people, some innocents swept up in the mass arrests but most richly deserving of being taken off the streets. We don’t photograph cops in this country so this is as close as I dared:  

The officer peered up at me and I shrugged. Breakdown I said, and he waved us through. Cars buses and pick ups were being minutely inspected.

 If you want to see a series of videos about driving a Promaster across South America a young couple calling themselves the Vandersons completed the journey with a dog and a cat. I found their videos frustratingly lacking in useful information for someone like me following in their tire tracks and they drive their Promaster beyond its limits with consequent breakdowns. And here we were on a thirty minute ride back to the campground. I recalled when the Vandersons spent a day on a flatbed crossing Chile she sat up on the bed in the van and said perkily “I’m not hating this” as someone else drove. I felt rather that same way watching Ecuador slide by.

I was strangely calm figuring where there is a problem there must be a solution even though we faced the logistical hassles of repairs, dealing with customs when importing parts and so forth. I sent the Jeep dealer a message wondering if they had a fuel rail in stock got the Pentastar engine we share with the Jeep. It was a long shot but you never know. 

We past lovely countryside and sugar cane fields reminiscent of Florida, gloomy, resigned and hopeful by turns. We felt we deserved a break from too much sitting still and organizing repairs. 

I wondered how we would ever fit back in the campground. I underestimated Patricio’s driving skills and I forgot about the huge expedition trucks that fit inside. 

We made a scene when we came in of course but Patricio made it look easy. 

Up the hill past the cabanas we drove. 

He wiggled us into the right spot and with the help of the gardener rolled us off the truck exactly back into our spot. Just like that. 

We were delighted to give him $150 for his work. We were secure and now could take our time to figure out our next move. What a relief. 

Our neighbor a car mechanic from Germany got curious and with a mirror started poking around. “Could this be it?” he said holding a up hose connector completely unclipped. Bloody right it could be. Helped it in place until it clicked into the end of the fuel injector rail hose and GANNET2 putted like the kitten that got the milk. 

Florian has been here five weeks waiting for parts for his 1998 Volkswagen Euro van (T5 in Europe).

His turbo charger blew up in Colombia and scattered metal through the engine. He replaced the turbo charger and got as far as Quito, the capital of Ecuador, before the engine blew up. He had a four hour ride in flat bed back here where he took the engine out and as soon as he can he will put his own engine back in. I bought him dinner for his help solving our modest problem. 

We had planned a return visit to see the bears but it’s raining hard with low mist and low visibility. First breakfast and then we’ll see but at least our GANNET2 is back in perfect running order. For now. 

What a day. What a day.