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Trip to Candelaria

A couple years ago I took a trip to El Altar, one of the volcanoes that we can see from Shell on a clear day. We didn't actually climb the peak, but went a point where we could see the crater. The 17,000 foot peaks rose up quite a bit higher than the point that we reached. When we came back down to the hacienda where we began our trip, the people were getting ready train some bulls for the bull ring. Even though we would have liked to, we didn't stick around for the event, but headed home. This past weekend, I returned. Joy Minoff, an MAF teacher here, asked me if I'd like to go with her and one of her students up to the hacienda for the weekend. The boys and I thought that sounded like a great idea.

We left Shell just after noon on Saturday and headed up to a little village just above BaÒos to pick up Joy and Chris. The road to our destination used to be the main route between BaÒos and Riobamba. That ended in 1999 with the eruption of Volcan Tungarahua. Huge mudslides caused by the melting snow had washed out many of the bridges along the road, rendering it impassable. By the time we drove the road in February 2001, the local people had managed to carve go-arounds through these wash-outs. Recently there have been some large storms which have washed out the road once again. We knew the road was passable, but had no idea just what to expect. I soon found out it wasn't quite the road I had hoped for. In at least ten of the gullies where the road had been washed out, bridges had been put in place. But they weren't steel and cement bridges--they were built out of logs and planks. The first one didn't look very strong to me, but after I walked it, I decided to go for it. It held, and were on our way again. There were more, and about the time I thought maybe I shouldn't have come this way, I realized that I would have to cross enough bridges again that it seemed better just to go on. Many of the bridges looked scary enough that Dustin and Taylor decided they'd rather walk across them. Needless to say, we made it across that section, and were once again driving on a paved road. Of course, I would have to decide whether we would return that way, or go home by a longer route and avoid the dangerous bridges. We arrived at the hacienda above Candelaria late in the afternoon. After a walk, we had a late dinner, spent some time visiting in front of the fireplace, and then headed to bed. At 11,000 feet, it was colder than Shell, but we slept warmly under flannel sheets and wool blankets.

We slept in and had breakfast a little after 8 AM. The day was to require a lot of patience, as we waited for the bulls. About 11 AM a handful of riders on horseback headed up the steep hill behind the hacienda to bring back the bulls. In a little more than an hour they returned with a small herd of thirty bulls and cows. The cattle rushed into a holding pen, and we waited some more. It was lunch time, and we enjoyed a large lunch with the family that owned the hacienda as well as many of their friends and relatives. They had all gathered for this special weekend. Soon after lunch it was time to play with the bulls. One by one the bulls were penned and then let into the courtyard and anyone who wanted to be a matador could try their hand at it. There were several calves in the herd, and when they were brought out, the children took their turns. Even Dustin and Taylor went out there for a few minutes. Dustin wasn't excited about it, but Taylor seemed to really enjoy himself. The people enjoyed seeing Taylor out there and gave him the matador's cape to use. At one point the calf chased Taylor, but he managed to get out of the way. Once in a while a bull would knock someone down, but there were always others there to distract the bull so that nobody was hurt. During the afternoon Dustin went for a horseback ride up the hillside behind the hacienda. When he returned Taylor went, and I walked along with him. As we climbed higher we could look down on the hacienda and the activities below.

By 4:30 PM the crowd had grown quite large, and was starting to get a little rowdy. They had been passing around the chicha, an alcoholic beverage, for a couple hours and it looked like the event would last quite a while longer. We'd watched plenty of the bulls, and had a long drive to get home, so we piled in the truck for the ride home. Instead of going the shorter way with the scary bridges, we went the longer way, through Riobamba. We drove through some absolutely beautiful country, and even thought it was an hour and a half longer, it was worth it. It was late by the time we got home, but that's OK. Today and tomorrow are holidays.