Crossing The Line

Layne has been south of the equator more than once but for me this was a first. Rusty looked around and wondered what the fuss was about. 

It took a bit of driving to get here from Finca Sommerwind but GANNET2 did the job without complaint. And then just sat there no doubt pondering the remaining 5,272 miles (in a straight line) to the southernmost point of the continent at Ushuaia. 

We drive through the town of Cayambe to get to the line and our last purchase in the northern hemisphere was rubbish. 

It’s called a bizcocho (“bees-co-cho”) and in some countries it’s a sponge cake. Unluckily for my sweet tooth in Ecuador it’s a wafer kind of think that tastes of flour. 

It’s a big deal in Cayambe but unless you add something to it the flaky little thing tastes of nothing. Weird. 

It looks like it should be delicious. 

Anyway we tasted the local delicacy and pressed on. It’s lovely countryside up here, a rolling open valley with mountains on either side.  And a river runs through it. 

Cayambe Volcano is the third highest peak in Ecuador the land of tall volcanoes, and we shall be checking out Cotopaxi and the big daddy Chimborazo from a distance in the days to come. If you want to win a bar bet Chimborazo is taller than Everest as it sits near the equator where the earth is thickest and thus its peak is further from the center of the earth. You can thank me after you win your bets. Cayambe Volcano still has snow in it as we shall see in a minute. 

I got myself a screen shot of my altitude app on my iPhone. For myself I felt no different in the southern hemisphere. I felt different in my head finally crossing that line after a lifetime of trying. 

We were surprised we were alone at this location but it was a weekday and more weird than that there are lots of equator locations. And not all of them are actually on the line. Before the advent of GPS it wasn’t easy to figure where the damned line went and nowadays anyone can tell where the equator is by looking at their phone. 

This place is actually on the equator partly because it’s a late comer she it was easier to establish degrees of latitude and longitude. The museum is full of information on that subject. 

The way early scientists figured locations was by creating overlapping lines from known points. Apparently Ecuador was the ideal location to establish the whereabouts of the equation because of the mountain tops where sights of position could be triangulated. The equator passes through the Amazon basin where the horizon is invisible in the jungle. 

Angels our guide explained the relationship between the lines of the tropics in either side of the equator and how the sun moves between them in what we call the tropical zone. 

And there it is. You know what’s odd is that the rest of the world just keeps on going as your retired self is staring at zero degrees with his jaw dangling. Our guide admitted she lived half an hour away, in the northern hemisphere. And no she doesn’t care one jot about the equator. 

The white lines in the cobbles represent the position of the arc of the sun at different times of the year. But for me the equator was what I wanted to ponder. 

Webb Chiles figures he’s crossed the equator thirteen times and he is a fan of the southern hemisphere, pointing out 90 percent of humans live in the northern hemisphere where there is 68% of the land mass. I’m in the good half now with less people and more mountains. That’s pretty nerve wracking. These mountains are huge. 

Rusty remained indifferent to his situation do we walked into the northern hemisphere and wandered the cactus garden. 

Remember how we missed seeing the Andean bears? Well these cacti are their favorite food so at least we nailed that. 

We spent an extra day at the Sommerwind campground waiting out the heavy rain and it was worth it to walk in the sun at 9,000 feet. 

Check out the snow in the distance and that’s the upper slopes of the Cayambe Volcano at the point where the equator crosses the volcano. Snow in the tropics, just like the mountains in Hawaii. 

I was asked to see how water goes down the drain in the south. Obviously they’ve heard that story before at the museum. 

And it seems some visitors have messed with the plumbing to check the water drain theory. That hasn’t gone down well: 

Got it? Good. Now look at this map on the floor of the museum. Our guide explained the map of the world you know is the wrong way round. The world actually rotates west to east around the equator so our world looks like this:

Our world is on its side; there’s a thought to take away. Oh and how about this thought. It’s 5,272 miles in a straight line to the bottom of the continent and we won’t drive in a straight line even if we could. Those mountains on our route are pretty massive. Look at them all, that giant brown and white smear: 

Outside there were a sign we really are in the Andes. Not women in bowler hats this time but two alpacas grazing: 

From the indigenous Quitsato sundial we passed a few hundred yards south to the Bola de Guachalà, a ball marking a near miss in the pursuit of the equator. No sundials here of ancient rituals; just a rather cute near miss. 

I guess in the end it’s just an invisible kind made visible by idiots like me who come here to see whatever nonsense they erect here to give me a thrill. 

And yet I feel pretty happy to have crossed a line that isn’t really there. 

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.