Big Sur

The border town of Tulcán isn't Ecuador's most picturesque place but its newly renovated market with delicious fruit juice stalls, free wi-fi and cheap set lunches were enough to give us pleasant welcome into the country.

We'd heard from other cyclists of a road leaving Tulcán leading up into the páramo highlands that was found by looking for the statue of a dwarf resembling Hitler, brandishing a rifle outside a modernist church….with such weird and specific instructions we couldn't really go wrong and sure enough, we found the statue and followed our road…

…to a remote camp spot at around 2800m where we dropped the bikes, put on all of our clothes and fired up the stove to make a hot chocolate in an attempt to warm up in Ecuador's cooler climes.

After a night of pure silence, camped under a blanket of crisp, crystal stars we were up early and raring to go across the páramo…

…16km more of climbing to the top and every centimetre of it covered in frailejones.

Around every corner these plants, which are only found above 3000m in Venezuela, Colombia and Ecuador, were waiting to welcome us….

…beautiful, eerie, and so unlike any terrain we've encountered elsewhere.

There are other species of plant that thrive here too…delicate colours and textures we were surprised to find in such harsh conditions.

No need to worry about encountering any other traffic on this lonely desolate road…

…which gives us time to get to know these plants a little more intimately…

…I enjoyed stroking their furry leaves!

In beautiful weather, we then descend over 50km, through a vibrant patchwork of fields…

…down and down and into more rugged terrain that reminds us we have truly reached the Andes. Those mountains looming ahead of us today, will be the climbs we have to undertake tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day.

Reaching Salinas, just off the Pan American which we have (smugly) successfully avoided so far, we encounter a sleepy forgotten town on the edge of the mountains…

…and on leaving, in another attempt to avoid the main road, we kind of make up a route as we go along. Using Volcano Cotacachi as a landmark, we stumble upon the old route to Ibarra…

…weaving along dirt tracks reminiscent of Mexico…

…through the familiar heat of sugar cane fields and down into a quarry…

…which at first glance makes us think we've been a bit ambitious with our wanderings and we've hit a dead end. Beady eyed Jams spots an exit however and…

…a series of tunnels from an old railway line guide us back to the “road” towards Imbaya.

Throughout Central America, I wailed with discomfort whenever we reached a colonial town because it inevitably meant saddle-sore inducing cobbled streets. Imagine my dismay then at arriving in Ecuador to find that cobbled roads are not something reserved only for pretty towns here, but are seen as a legitimate road building technique. So it seems James will have to suffer much more of my complaining if all of the ascents ahead of us are to be cobbled.

Excitement levels went up considerably when I saw this sign, thinking my favourite chickpea snack was for sale nearby…whilst I was salivating with anticipation, Jams helpfully pointed out that “humus” in this case is the Spanish word for soil…I know, I know, it's not even spelt the same way but after nearly two years of craving, you can't blame a girl for getting excited.

It couldn't have felt more different to our morning's ride when we hit the Pan American at Ibarra. From field tracks to four lane highway in just a few hours. Thankfully we only had to do 4km on this monstrosity before exiting again for a more peaceful route to Otavalo.

Along the way, we learned, from a helpful poster in a fruit and veg shop, that the current president of Ecuador, Rafael Correa, shares our passion for two wheels.

Ahead of us lie more mountains, greater altitude, more snow and colder weather than we will have experienced on this trip so far. We take the chance to stock up on woolly winter warmers in Otavalo, a town famous for a market selling deliciously snuggly clothing made from llama and alpaca wool.

Another cobbled climb led us to a wonderful camping spot between two volcanoes. Looking right we had Imbabura standing majestically in the last of the evening light and…

…looking left the summit of Cotacachi was shrouded in clouds but still there…looming from the other side. Ecuador, land of volcanoes.

There are no pictures of our 14km cobbled climb up to the Lagunas de Mojanda, a series of lakes at 3700m, partly because it was extremely misty but also because it took every breath, every cell of the body to turn the pedals to get up there. We are definitely still adjusting to the altitude here, but it's all good training for when we expect to reach dizzy heights of 5000m in Bolivia. This was the first we saw of the lakes as we rounded the corner at the top of (what I thought was) the end of the climb.

We had the place to ourselves and as the mist cleared and a deliciously warm sun showed itself, we followed the twisting path alongside these beautiful lakes.

As with the páramo between Tulcán and El Angel, we were discovering stunning nature we'd never seen before. South America's version of thistles perhaps?

Rounding the lake, we were foolish to think the hard work was over and this steep section had us both off and pushing – we are thankful that we've got the weight of the bikes down as low as possible to be able to – just about – tackle tracks like this.

After lunch, sheltering out of the wind at an deserted tourist complex, the realisation slowly dawned on me that there was more climbing to come. If the lakes were in a basin, it was inevitable that we had to climb back out of it…steep grade on loose dirt after lunch…there was a lot of swearing. But at least the view was nice.

As I was choking to take in air when we got to the top, this sign managed to bring a grin to my face…a reminder, in case we needed it, that cyclists can expect steep climbs on uneven surfaces around here.

Finally we reach the top and at 4000m it's the highest climb of our trip so far. The rugged backdrop, fluffy white clouds and bright sunshine make it all seem worth it…

…especially when you look back and are rewarded with this view…

…and you look ahead and see that the road to come is just as inviting.

Setting out on the descent to Tabacundo, James looks as thought he's about to ride right off the edge and into the clouds.

Halfway down the descent we are stopped in our tracks by a team of horses who demand all the space on the road as they gallop on by.

Arriving in Tabacundo, we decide it's time to try out some Ecuadorian snacks and we waste no time in ordering one of everything…so we can make some discerning choices of course. Clockwise from top left: potatoes with greens and toasted maize, wrapped humitas (maize dumplings with cheese and sugar), an unwrapped humita ready for eating and cheese empanadas…thankfully, everything was yummy and passed the test.

While I was stocking up with veg at the market, James was approached by Germán who runs a paintballing ranch just outside Tabacundo. He generously invited us to camp at his house where he and his wife Fabiola made us incredibly welcome. We were treated to an open fire, beer and delicious food, and even an exclusive performance of traditional costume and local dancing – usually only seen at the month long festival for St Peter and Paul held in June.

After a big breakfast with Germán and Fabiola we set off to cross the equator. Reaching this landmark, I felt it important to remind James which direction we should be heading in over the next nine months – the same as always….generally…sort of…south.