About 20 minutes down the road the bus stopped at the military checkpoint. I was a little nervous because of our limited Spanish vocabulary. Ellyn showed a copy of her passport, and I showed him my Censos (a form of ID that shows what I do and where I live) and that was enough. It turned out that he checked everyone's ID, not just the gringos.

For 1 1/2 hours we drove, crossing streams, dodging pedestrians, and passing on blind curves. The road gradually narrowed and the pavement disappeared. In some places the road is so narrow vehicles can't pass. This can be scary in spots where the road teeters on the side of the gorge, with the Rio Pastaza rushing far below. Latin music blared through the speakers, punctuated now and then by our gasps as we eyed the narrow road and the numerous waterfalls.

At 1:30 p.m. we arrived in Baños (5906'). The climate here is very agreeable and the surroundings are green and attractive. Having lived next to the Sierra National Forest for ten years, it was a comforting feeling to see the evergreen trees growing around the town. On one side of the town the mountain side rose almost straight up, with a few homes and gardens clinging to the side. On the other side of town, the mountain plunged down to the Rio Pastaza.

We really didn't know where we were, so we just started heading down the street. Ellyn found a store she wanted to go into. While she did that I pulled out the guidebook we had borrowed and took a look at the map. We were soon heading to the center of town. Baños is a big town for Ecuador, but small enough that you can easily walk all of it. Tourists abound, and we were excited when we heard someone speaking english. We never imagined something as simple as hearing a stranger speaking in our language would be exciting!

We stopped for lunch at a cafe. The boys had a hamburger and fries. As far as they were concerned, that made the three hour round trip worth it! The fries and hamburgers didn't taste like Burger King, but they were different from the fried chicken we usually order for them. A four member band was there and we listened as they played their Andean flute music. We liked it enough to buy their CD.

After lunch we walked down the street to the basilica, a large Dominican church dedicated to the Virgin of the Holy Water. The church is filled with paintings depicting her miracles. The paintings were simple, with explanations in Spanish. One of the explanations went something like this: "On January 30, 1904, Sr X fell off his horse as he was crossing the Rio Pastaza bridge. As he fell 70 meters to the torrents below, he yelled 'Holy Mother of the Holy Water' and was miraculously saved!"

At 4 p.m. when we were finally tired of playing tourist, we walked back to the bus station. I picked a seat on the right side of the bus so I would be sure to have a good view of the gorge and the Rio Pastaza. As the bus reached the outskirts of town I noticed people looking out the right side of the bus. I did the same, and was able to catch a view of the towering Volcan Tungurahua (16,457'). Tungurahua is an active volcano, and capable of blowing its top at any moment. In October 1999 the volcano was so active the town of Baños was evacuated. Since then most residents have moved back in.

Descending back down to Shell (3000') we 'enjoyed' the view of the river and waterfalls far below. Dustin was sitting next to me, and there were a few times when he wished he was sitting on the other side of the bus! At several spots the bus stopped on the very edge of the road, waiting as a bus or truck squeezed by. As we looked out the window it seemed we would drop into the gorge at any moment!

The trip home took a little longer, as the bus stopped more frequently to drop off and pick up passengers. At one point the bus picked up a lady with several large and heavy bags. She sat in the back next to us, and for the rest of the ride we 'conversed' with her using our two Spanish phrasebooks. We learned that she was on her way to the market in Puyo to sell her vegetables and eggs. With our limited Spanish we tried to explain to her why we were living in Shell. It turned out that she knew someone who was a missionary pilot but we couldn't figure out who she was talking about. She got off the bus as it entered Shell. In a few more minutes we too got off the bus. The bus will stop anywhere you want to get off. All one needs to do is stand up and walk to the front of the bus.

By 5:45 p.m. we were home again. We were tired, but happy to have discovered more about our 'new' country.