Mahara and Ken's Amazon Jungle Adventure

Mahara and Ken’s Amazon Jungle Adventure

After much anticipation and planning for our jungle adventure, finally we were off. Our five day Amazon River adventure began with a twenty-five minute plane ride and magnificent views of the lush Ecuadorian countryside. We flew from the highlands of Quito to a grungy little oil town called Lago Agrio. After the cooler temperatures of Quito, 3000 metres above sea-level, a wall of heat blasted us as we stepped from the small plane. Also greeting us were guards in fully military gear, sporting machine guns. Because Lago Agrio is close to Colombia and because of the oil exports, this airport is well guarded.

We quickly met our smaller group, who, besides us, included a retired Ecuadorian architect, his son, a journalist with Forbes magazine, and a retired Japanese man traveling through South American for three months. We hired a small pickup truck to beat the long bus ride and were off.

The road was excellent, at first, newly paved, with construction trucks doing work along the way. After an hour or so, the paved road stopped and we were down to dirt. The ride was very bumpy with frequent slow-downs for washboard potholes. We arrived with our faces and hair thick with dust and we were happy to finally reach our destination – the Cayubeno Nature Reserve.

Cayubeno Nature Reserve is part of the Amazon Jungle and our stay was on the Cayubeno River. The park ranger gave a short talk, in Spanish on the conservation efforts of Ecuador. The journalist, who spoke five languages, translated. We paid our$20.00 US park fee to the Ministerio del Ambiente, and our guide, Diego, a Level II Naturalist, with a biology degree took it from there. Tourists are not allowed in any of the protected areas without a guide. On our jungle trek we walked through areas where Total Petroleum, from France, and Alberta Corporation, were planning more oil extraction. Diego and the community are not happy this was happening. In fact oil has been coming out of the jungle for some time. The oil pipeline is above ground and ran along the entire length of the highway and road. We learned that oil, not bananas, is Ecuador’s largest export.

We loaded our gear in a long Ecuadorian motorized canoe, our mode of transportation for the entire trip, and in fifteen minutes were in camp. We were greeted by the staff and the resident monkey, pig and dogs. Our accommodations were thatched huts on stilts – basically a small room with a bed covered by a mosquito net. The bathroom had a cold-water shower, when there was water, and a toilet that rocked as it was not bolted to the floor. When we booked the trip we somehow missed the fact there was no electricity. This is quite difficult in the jungle because it is so completely pitch black after 6 pm, and our little flashlights didn’t provide much light. They did show up the cockroaches however.

At camp we met others who would be part of our group for the next few days – a young Oxford biology graduate volunteer and a couple of young Swiss schoolteachers, off as volunteer teachers for the next five months to “the slums of Lima”. Later two lads, recently minted graduates from the University of Dundee, and a Russian woman traveling alone joined our core group. As well, other people came and left during our five day stint.

The first jungle walk at night was uneventful. We followed Diego in single file, and scanned our flashlights up and down trees and looked for small insects or bugs. The long trek the next morning was more interesting - for one thing, we could see. Diego led us through the jungle, mostly on a small path, never wider than a person, but just as often it appeared we walked quite randomly over roots and rocks and through the muck. Again, the wildlife was sparse – or rather non-existent, I would say. We did see some Tapir tracks, but they are nocturnal animals. Diego explained there were seven trail areas used on a weekly rotational basis so damage from small walks was negligible.

We trekked for several hours, and were happy to be wearing the long rubber boots the camp had issued us, as the jungle trail became quite difficult. The mud was just slippery and squishy at first, but then became quite deep. It was difficult to pull my foot out from each step. In some cases the mud came most of the way up my boot and made a sucking sound as I took each step. Finally, much to the amusement of our fellow sloggers, I lost my balance and fell backwards, right into the mud. After my rescue we continued to slosh through the mud, walked over logs over small streams and up and down some rather rough terrain and finally staggered back to camp five hours later.

That night we went caiman hunting in the canoe. Caimans are similar to alligators but reach up to eight metres in length. Our guide finds the caimans by shining flashlights in the water, which illuminates their red eyes. They become transfixed by the light and can be caught. Diego grabbed a small one, and took it back to camp where some people took photographs of themselves holding it – not me or Ken though - uggh. I didn’t think this was a particularly great activity from the caiman’s point of view. Afterward Diego released it into the river. People swam the river all the time.

Going down the river the next day was quite magical. It’s dark brown from the decomposing vegetation, and in some places is even black, called rio negro. As the river is not wide in that area, we searched the trees and vegetation for monkeys and birds. It was very atmospheric and peaceful gliding down the river and I loved being right in the jungle on the boat.We saw about 60 species of birds. It was very difficult to get pictures, mainly because of the dense vegetation and because we were in a moving canoe. The Scottish lads found the river a bit boring after the excitement of the Galapagos – but fair enough. In the jungle you must be patient and scan the trees for birds or monkeys, while in the Galapagos, the animals are out in the open. Ken really enjoyed taking pictures and just the opportunity to see so many beautiful birds.

Part of the trip was an overnight camping trip about three hours up the river. I enjoyed the ride but the camp was awful. It was quite dirty: we slept on mattresses on the floor, but no sheets. I slept in my clothes – I didn’t even venture into the shower because of the cockroaches or other bugs I might find. Our swimming plans were scuttled by an Amazonian Jungle deluge where the river rose a few inches in a few minutes. I didn’t go out caiman hunting that night, but one was found.

We were up at five to see the sunrise and to spot, hopefully, some manatees and pink dolphins which live in that particular part of the river. We just saw snippets of them as they surfaced and disappeared so quickly, but going through what seemed like Mangrove swamps we saw many more birds. Our stay in mid- August was at the beginning of the dry season. Diego said the river had dropped about one metre within the past week and in another two weeks the area would be almost dry. Just for fun, one member of our group tried to call his girlfriend from the middle of the jungle by climbing a tree, but, surprise, it didn’t work.

In the small community we visited in the area we watched as the indigenous woman macheted a tree, dug up the roots, grated them, wrung out the juice and made round tortilla-type bread. We sampled the bread along with fresh soft white cocoa beans. That particular community is part of the fair-trade movement and produces a small amount of cocoa.

On our final night, we had a party, spontaneously engineered by Ken. Luis, our guide from the North Andes, showed up with five English medical students and a few other new recruits. Another French couple with their two kids and the two other German fellows were there and a grand time was had by all. Some went to bed at 2 am – some at 5am. The huge pet tarantula sidled off to the corner. The monkey walked around the eating area as usual, grabbing things and swinging from the railings. The pig stayed under the eating compound the dogs were just there.

Piranha fishing in small canoes was our last activity before we trudged about a mile through the jungle to the small town where our driver and his pick-up waited. We figured out later that all taxis in rural Ecuador are white pick-up trucks.

Two points stand out in my mind – the atmosphere of the jungle, especially on the peaceful river as we slowly traversed its impenetrable depths, and the wonderful camaraderie that developed with the most interesting people in our group. Everyone just clicked. It was stimulating to learn about different cultures and life experiences. We were surprised with the very high education level of most of the people and the sense of adventure that prevailed. Most were on to visit other countries. We struggled with our Spanish and a little French but many people spoke at least three languages. We left with invitations to visit Osaka, Japan and the classrooms of Peru.

I also learned that it’s impossible to stay clean in the jungle and that I don’t like cockroaches running through my suitcases or in the sink. By the end of the trip absolutely everything stank, even clothes we didn’t wear. I had no idea how much I like being clean.

All in all though we flew back to Quito with wonderful memories and friendships – and are happy we are Amazon Jungle Survivors. In spite of the rough circumstances, this experience was fabulous, worth every moment, and not to be missed. Do it if you can.

The Cayubeno River The Huts