We took a few walks, but most of the day, we worked on the blog for our thousands of adoring fans. The photo above also shows where we hiked on January 2. As Ecuadorans left Baños in droves, Kathleen and I took an easy day and planned out our travels northward. 
As of this entry, the activity of Volcano Tungurahua (Toon-hoora-hoo-ah)has increased. The City of Baños has been testing the emergency sirens throughout town. We'll keep watch on the mountain for you all.
By mid-morning we crossed over the Rio Pastaza and up a road that was a steady upward climb for nearly 5-miles. However, the views of the volcano were great along the way. 
Tungurahua came back to life in 1999 after an 80-year dormancy. In 2007 a significant eruption doused towns to the west with ash. While we were looking at the over 15,000-foot stratovolcano, steam belched from the summit making huge clouds.
At the top of our climb we had a women tell us to take a road that went down the mountain side on the opposite side we had come up. We did so, and found the road to be more pleasant as we encountered nearly zero traffic.
At the bottom of the mountain, we still had another 2-mile hike back into town. Fortuitously, a taxi came by and we were able to ride into town. Looking at a map later, we determined we had hiked nearly 9-miles.
Upon paying our entrance fee of $20/both, and receiving the best and only map of any parks we’ve visited in South America, our driver took us further into the park to one of the few visitor centers. Here, he dropped us off and would pick us up at the entrance in about 2-hours. Two-hours!? He’s kidding, right?
Kathleen and I set out following the pink route as the route was marked with little dabs of paint on trees, rocks, and short posts. Instantly, we realized this was a place we needed to visit again.
The park protects over 200 lakes carved out of the rock by glacial processes some millennia ago. The mountains and valleys were initially the result of glacial forces. Since then, time and erosion further sculpted the landscape into what looked like Arctic tundra in combination with the Rocky Mountains. Actually, the landscape reminded Kathleen and I of Adak Island, Alaska.
Kathleen and I thought the park would be a wonderful place to backpack and camp. The nights would be chilly, however, today, the sun was warm and a gentle breeze felt invigorating.
After hearing “Tweeeet – hoot – hoot” among some shrubs, we managed to see a Tawny Ant-pitta. Kathleen maneuvered around and got a few photos of the little bugger who was singing his heart out to any of his kind who’d dare challenge his territory.
Kathleen and I continued on our trek and found one great view after another. This was what we came to see and do on our South America trip.
The last half mile of our hike was along the highway back to the park entrance. Our driver, according to Kathleen, was a little worried that we had taken a little over 3-hours rather than the 2 allotted. She told him we could have been out so much longer.
The parade, . . . we started out discussing the parade, was an eclectic arrangement of prominent Christmas characters including the wise man, Jesus (Hay-zoos), Romans, angels, the animals that figure heavily in the nativity scenes, and, oddly, Halloween critters and characters. All this with bountiful settings of fruits, vegetables, and packaged goods. I’m not kidding on that last. Candies, snacks, cans of edible what-have-ya laid out on a truck bed or hanging from the sides of decorated cars.
The parade lasted for nearly on an hour, at which time we decided to once again, visit Raymipampa Café on the plaza as they were pretty much the only place open. We had another good set of meals and then had ice-cream in the dolce shop next door before calling and end to the day.
After breakfast, we moved to the Posada del Angel where we would spend the next 2 nights. From our new digs, we set out to explore Cuenca. 
We noticed the foreign tourists, including people from the U.S. who seem to have a desire to stand-out, were in great abundance.
As the new year was approaching, vendors were selling masks and mannequin/effigies to be set a’fire come 12-midnight December 31. The burnings would, of course, involve copious amounts of drinking and fireworks to greet the new year.
We hiked to a church up on a hill where we could have a sweeping view of the city. Beyond Cuenca we could see Cajas National Park where we fully intended to visit tomorrow. New Years eve.
As we walked back into town, we felt a few drops, and by the time we were back to our hostel the rain we pretty steady. We dropped off a few items before heading out for dinner. We enjoyed our meals at Raymipampa Café the night before, that we decided to see if they could do as good a job again. The café is right next to the main cathedral on the main plaza . . . durrrrr. As we sat down, the city received a good washing. The rain came down hard for nearly an hour. Our meal tasted even better as we looked out the window watching people scurry about.
We too, scurried back to our room as the rain continued to fall.
We were headed to Cuenca (Coo-ehn-cah) to be in position to visit Cajas (Cah-ha-ss) National Park. From Vilcabamba, we took a local bus to Loja (Low-ha) where we would catch yet another bus to Cuenca.
We traveled through cropland and pastures on a magnificent highway. On our motorcycles we would have thoroughly enjoyed turning and weaving our way down this concrete . . . concrete, not asphalt, ribbon of adventure moto-touring. In places, construction was under way. No day-glow orange cones used here, people will drive over them to access the unfinished sections of road. Instead, rocks make the point clear. Couple this with the reinforcing steel protruding from the unfinished edge should certainly drive the point home: Stay off this section of road!!
As we neared Cuenca the rain began in fits and starts. We arrived in Cuenca and hopped a taxi to a hostel near the central part of town. We wanted to stay at the Macondo hostal, however, we found them to be booked. We were directed to Hostal Chordeleg where, after trooping about the darkened rainy streets of Cuenca, we did find a room.
Kathleen and I set out for some dinner and to find a better place to stay after our first night. Hostal Chordeleg was kind of run down, and the raw sewage smell emissions percolating up from the shower and sink was enough to singe nostril hair. We had been told by a couple at Cabañas Rio Yambala of a restaurant near the cathedral in Cuenca. Sure enough, their directions put us in Raymipampa Café. We enjoyed a meal here before setting off in search of a better hostel for the following nights. We managed to find one – Posada del Angel. 
Kathleen was feeling much better than yesterday’s gastro-intestinal doldrums that kept her in bed most of the day. We decided to hike up along a ridge trail above the hostel. Again, we wanted to make a loop. Starting out late morning we took our time as Kathleen wasn’t quite ready to storm up the steep ridge like Allied troops taking Normandy. Her usual state during a hike. 
One of the touristy activities is to take a horseback ride up the ridge trail to the falls. As we had observed in Tayrona National Park, Colombia, the trail along the ridge above the Rio Yambala was deeply incised from the combination of hooved traffic and rain run-off. In some places the trail was a trench. Switchbacks and a few water-bars would help.
We periodically stopped and looked out over the vistas provided by the Ecuadorian highlands. We encountered a family group from Calgary, Canada on holiday from the minus temperatures of their home town. During the course of the conversations, we told them our sob-story about our foiled motorcycling trip of South America. They then told us of another terrorist attempt on a U.S. plane in Detroit on December 25th. Something about a guy trying to light explosives he had in his underwear. Other passengers pounced on the guy and quelled the potential disaster. However, the Canadians went on to say that now the U.S. air-carriers were going to limit passengers to one carry-on item. Kathleen and I didn’t understand the connection. The Canadians didn’t either, except to say that because of the actions of the U.S., foreign carriers will follow suit. Kathleen and I are traveling with our motorcycle helmets as we’ve been advised by a number of South Americans that shipping them home could be risky as the label will have to state what’s in the box. We’d rather not lose a thousand dollars worth of motorcycle gear. Now, we’ll probably be charged for the extra carry-on item.
As we parted ways with the Canadians, they told us we weren’t far from the waterfall further along the ridge trail. Kathleen and I set out for the falls. The trail leveled off and we came to a creek where cows were lounging creek-side. The bovids were quite placid as I tugged on the horn of this one.
The Canadians described the route to the falls as involving a gate and tin-roofed shed. After searching about, we concluded that we should take the path, through the gate, by the shed beyond which the path goes down slope through a cornfield. Sure enough, we came to the falls. The day was hot and the falls looked inviting. Yet, neither Kathleen nor I could shake the thought of what those cows had been depositing in the creek above the falls.
As we couldn’t find a route down to where the creek fed into the Rio Yambala beyond the falls, we hiked back up to the shed. The topography and vegetation didn’t lend to a route to a trail we could see across to the opposite canyon wall. Kathleen and I decided to hike back the way we had come earlier in the day. The sun was low on the horizon, and some clouds kept the sun from beating on us.
Dinner was by candlelight as the power was temporarily shut off do to the lack of water in the local reservoirs to run the turbines at the hydroelectric stations. After dinner, Kathleen and I settled into our cabaña for the evening.
