(NOTE: View a larger picture by clicking on the photo(s) above.)
The story I am about to tell involves the mountain above, Cotopaxi, a stratovolcano, also called a composite volcano, a tall, conical shape composed of many layers of hardened lava and volcanic ash. These kinds of volcanoes are characterized by a steep profile and periodic, explosive eruptions. The lava that flows from them cools and hardens before spreading very far. Cotopaxi has a summit elevation of 19,388 feet. It has erupted 50 times since 1738. The 1877 eruption melted snow and ice on the summit, which produced mudflows that traveled 60 miles from the volcano. The most recent eruption of Cotopaxi ended in 1904. Reports of an eruption in 1942 have not been confirmed. Loosely translated from the Quechua, Cotopaxi means "Smooth Neck of the Moon"
At the time, around 1970, we lived in the town of Latacunga, at the base of this volcano. You can locate it on the map above, some 50 miles south of Quito. The city had a population at the time of about 20,000, and we were the only English speaking family in the city. We were home-schooling our daughter, Debbie, through the Calvert System out of Maryland. We taught her at home in the 5th, 6th, and 7th grades. I am not sure which school year it was, but her geography book stated that the world’s highest, active volcano was one in Hawaii. We knew better, because we lived at the foot of the world’s highest, active volcano. We wrote the school and told them their text book was wrong. The school wrote back, after some research, and acknowledged that we were correct. They said, “I guess we will have to take the Parsons family as the authority on volcanoes.”
Anyway, this is not the story. The whole story involves the area directly around the base of the mountain. The fact that we are now “camping” full-time is nothing new. We have camped quite a lot in our time, but then it was “tent-camping,” the old fashion way. At this particular time we decided to go camping around the mountain with some friends who lived in Quito. We were to search out a good area for the purpose, since we lived near by. We knew we would need a “four-wheel-drive” vehicle to accomplish this feat because the conditions around the mountain were primitive at best. Although our friends had a four-wheel-drive, we only had a Ford station wagon. So we borrowed a four-wheel-drive vehicle from other friends.
Carolyn and I took off around the mountain to search out a camping spot. Why do you suppose that the song, “She’ll be comin’ around the mountain when she comes“….has just hit my mind? I guess it is appropriate. But, as I was saying, we started out bumping over rough ground, fording streams (we crossed 14 streams in all), coming upon herds of wild horses (you see a picture of some of them above), and generally enjoying ourselves. We finally found a spot between the streams (similar to the streams you see above with the horses) that we thought would be perfect. We made our way back out of the wilderness, and no, we didn’t get lost.
We informed our friends that we had found the “ideal” spot, and we planned the date and time to go. We met at the entrance to the mountain area. It had recently rained and we knew the terrain would be muddy and slick. We also knew that we would need the four-wheel-drive. In those days, converting from two-wheel-drive was a manual operation on each wheel, no central button to push or lever to pull.
We made the driving adjustments and started off to locate our “spot.” We slipped, slide, bounced and forded the same 14 steams. We arrived at our site, setup our tents and prepared for a three-day camp experience in a beautiful, wild setting. As we were ending our preparations, it began to rain again. We had experienced rain before. No big deal. We huddled in one tent, the six of us. Our friends had a son near the same age as our daughter. We talked, tried games, then decided that we would have to cook and eat inside our tents. The rain was coming down hard. Dark had come and there was not much to do except get some sleep and hope for a better day tomorrow. We separated and went to bed. Actually, we went to “ground.”
It rained all night. Our tents began to leak. We tried to adjust the best we could, but there was not much sleeping going on that night. We were more wet than anything. The next morning, it was still raining. We fixed some breakfast, and wondered what we should do. We noticed that the streams were rising fast and beginning to encroach on our camp site. We decided it was best to get out of there while we still could. If we could!
We packed our wet tents. Loaded our vehicles and approached the stream. The water was rushing rapidly and still rising. We were not sure that we could successfully ford the streams since the water was now much higher. We made the decision and our friends started across first. They got midway of the stream, and the engine died. They were sitting in the stream, water half-way up the doors, and the engine was stalled. We were still on the bank looking on.
The carburetor was most likely wet. It needed to be dried. To do this, one would have to crawl out the window, get on the hood, step down on the bumper, lift the hood and dry the carburetor with a rag…….provided that said person didn’t fall in the rushing water. Our friends, let’s call them Bill and Marilyn, simply because that is their names, chose Bill for the honors.
We decided that Bill would tie a rope around his waist, toss the other end to me on the bank, and I would hold tension on him to keep him from falling in the stream. He crawled out the window and onto the hood. As soon as he attempted to place a foot on the bumper….down he went, into the water. My efforts at holding tension was worth nothing. So much for that idea.
Bill stood in the rushing water up to his waist, lifted the hood and dried the carburetor. He indicated to Marilyn to try the engine. Varooooom! It started. Bill closed the hood, turned his back on the car and started wading across the stream and motioned for Marilyn to drive across behind him. She did, and we followed in our car without incident. That was one stream. There were 13 more to come.
The going was tough at times and we were not always sure we would make it. There were times when I thought that we were going to turn over on some of the slick, angled paths that we had to traverse. But we made it through all in one piece. We were grateful for four-wheel-drive! It was only when we had gotten back to the main highway that I discovered that there was something wrong with the wheels of my “borrowed” vehicle. The four-wheel-drive element had not been working. I had been driving with only two-wheel drive. If I had known this during the trip, I would have been very afraid. If something had happened to us, they would still be looking for us in that wilderness. There was no one else around, and no one knew where we were going.
The things we don’t do when we are young! Until next time.
At the time, around 1970, we lived in the town of Latacunga, at the base of this volcano. You can locate it on the map above, some 50 miles south of Quito. The city had a population at the time of about 20,000, and we were the only English speaking family in the city. We were home-schooling our daughter, Debbie, through the Calvert System out of Maryland. We taught her at home in the 5th, 6th, and 7th grades. I am not sure which school year it was, but her geography book stated that the world’s highest, active volcano was one in Hawaii. We knew better, because we lived at the foot of the world’s highest, active volcano. We wrote the school and told them their text book was wrong. The school wrote back, after some research, and acknowledged that we were correct. They said, “I guess we will have to take the Parsons family as the authority on volcanoes.”
Anyway, this is not the story. The whole story involves the area directly around the base of the mountain. The fact that we are now “camping” full-time is nothing new. We have camped quite a lot in our time, but then it was “tent-camping,” the old fashion way. At this particular time we decided to go camping around the mountain with some friends who lived in Quito. We were to search out a good area for the purpose, since we lived near by. We knew we would need a “four-wheel-drive” vehicle to accomplish this feat because the conditions around the mountain were primitive at best. Although our friends had a four-wheel-drive, we only had a Ford station wagon. So we borrowed a four-wheel-drive vehicle from other friends.
Carolyn and I took off around the mountain to search out a camping spot. Why do you suppose that the song, “She’ll be comin’ around the mountain when she comes“….has just hit my mind? I guess it is appropriate. But, as I was saying, we started out bumping over rough ground, fording streams (we crossed 14 streams in all), coming upon herds of wild horses (you see a picture of some of them above), and generally enjoying ourselves. We finally found a spot between the streams (similar to the streams you see above with the horses) that we thought would be perfect. We made our way back out of the wilderness, and no, we didn’t get lost.
We informed our friends that we had found the “ideal” spot, and we planned the date and time to go. We met at the entrance to the mountain area. It had recently rained and we knew the terrain would be muddy and slick. We also knew that we would need the four-wheel-drive. In those days, converting from two-wheel-drive was a manual operation on each wheel, no central button to push or lever to pull.
We made the driving adjustments and started off to locate our “spot.” We slipped, slide, bounced and forded the same 14 steams. We arrived at our site, setup our tents and prepared for a three-day camp experience in a beautiful, wild setting. As we were ending our preparations, it began to rain again. We had experienced rain before. No big deal. We huddled in one tent, the six of us. Our friends had a son near the same age as our daughter. We talked, tried games, then decided that we would have to cook and eat inside our tents. The rain was coming down hard. Dark had come and there was not much to do except get some sleep and hope for a better day tomorrow. We separated and went to bed. Actually, we went to “ground.”
It rained all night. Our tents began to leak. We tried to adjust the best we could, but there was not much sleeping going on that night. We were more wet than anything. The next morning, it was still raining. We fixed some breakfast, and wondered what we should do. We noticed that the streams were rising fast and beginning to encroach on our camp site. We decided it was best to get out of there while we still could. If we could!
We packed our wet tents. Loaded our vehicles and approached the stream. The water was rushing rapidly and still rising. We were not sure that we could successfully ford the streams since the water was now much higher. We made the decision and our friends started across first. They got midway of the stream, and the engine died. They were sitting in the stream, water half-way up the doors, and the engine was stalled. We were still on the bank looking on.
The carburetor was most likely wet. It needed to be dried. To do this, one would have to crawl out the window, get on the hood, step down on the bumper, lift the hood and dry the carburetor with a rag…….provided that said person didn’t fall in the rushing water. Our friends, let’s call them Bill and Marilyn, simply because that is their names, chose Bill for the honors.
We decided that Bill would tie a rope around his waist, toss the other end to me on the bank, and I would hold tension on him to keep him from falling in the stream. He crawled out the window and onto the hood. As soon as he attempted to place a foot on the bumper….down he went, into the water. My efforts at holding tension was worth nothing. So much for that idea.
Bill stood in the rushing water up to his waist, lifted the hood and dried the carburetor. He indicated to Marilyn to try the engine. Varooooom! It started. Bill closed the hood, turned his back on the car and started wading across the stream and motioned for Marilyn to drive across behind him. She did, and we followed in our car without incident. That was one stream. There were 13 more to come.
The going was tough at times and we were not always sure we would make it. There were times when I thought that we were going to turn over on some of the slick, angled paths that we had to traverse. But we made it through all in one piece. We were grateful for four-wheel-drive! It was only when we had gotten back to the main highway that I discovered that there was something wrong with the wheels of my “borrowed” vehicle. The four-wheel-drive element had not been working. I had been driving with only two-wheel drive. If I had known this during the trip, I would have been very afraid. If something had happened to us, they would still be looking for us in that wilderness. There was no one else around, and no one knew where we were going.
The things we don’t do when we are young! Until next time.
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