How to Cross a Landslide in Ecuador

The hot, crowded bus rolled to a stop. Looking up, I saw a line of cars, trucks and buses snaking out of view. Several people stood up and walked off the bus like they knew exactly what was going on. I was confused.

Kelsey had been lulled to sleep by the swaying bus as it carved its way through the green mountains outside of Banos, Ecuador, but was woken by the sudden stillness. We were two hours outside of Tena, a small city of 30,000 people on the western edge of the Amazon, where we planned to spend the next two nights.

Vehicles stacked up behind us as we sat waiting in the bus. The lack of movement provided zero relief from the mounting heat and humidity of that March morning. Kelsey got off the bus for a breath of fresh air and to see if she could find out what was going on. She chatted with a mother and her two young children on the side of the road and found out that a landslide was blocking the road about a half mile up and a crew was working from the other side to clear it. Another crew would be coming up from our side to help out. People had all sorts of estimates on how long it would take to clear the slide. Some said two hours, others said six or more.

Kelsey finds out what's going on

Cars began to turn around and we considered catching a ride back to Banos where we started that morning. It'd certainly be better than spending all day stuck on the side of the road with only two bottles of water and a few granola bars. A taxi driver a couple cars back sensed our restlessness and offered a ride to Banos for $20. Tempting. We couldn't decide what to do. We really wanted to get to Tena, but didn't want to waste the day stuck on the bus.

Indecision led to inaction, so I decided to go see the landslide for myself. I walked past people napping in cars and sitting back, listening to music. Kids played on the side of the road. A farmer kept his chickens cool by covering their cages with grass and pouring water over them.

I rounded a bend in the road, catching my first glimpse of the landslide. The mass of mud, trees and rocks had released from the steep slope on the left, burying the road under 20 feet of debris and continuing down the slope on the right side of the road. Power lines that ran overhead sagged only a few feet above the slide. I could see the crew working on the other side of the landslide, but despite their efforts, it was clear our bus wouldn't be getting through anytime soon.

My view of the landslide

I returned to the bus and told Kelsey what I saw and showed her a couple pictures I snapped with my iPhone. Just then we overheard talk of people walking across the landslide. That's why those passengers got up and off the bus immediately! They'd clearly done this before. We threw our backpacks on and headed for the landslide to scout out a crossing. If we were able to cross the slide on foot, we would then attempt to catch a ride on the other side that would take us closer to Tena.

I couldn't help but think, "is it even safe to be considering this?" In the US, the police would never have let anyone cross a sketchy mudslide with power lines stooping just a few feet overhead. Here, the three cops on hand were helping shuffle people across. Here's how things would go. A line of people would form. The people would get restless and want to cross. The cops would tell them no. The people would get angry. The cops would tell them no. An old woman would yell. The cops would give in and motion to hurry across, yelling "Diez personas!" We watched this happen a couple times before we decided to queue up in line and scurry across at the next opportunity.

With our packs on our backs, we stood waiting for the signal to cross. The backhoe and bulldozer pushed dirt around, dodging the power lines while workers removed broken tree limbs from the mass of mud. Five minutes went by. Nothing. 10 minutes. People were getting restless. Sure enough, just as expected, after a little yelling and pleading, the cops stopped the heavy machinery and waved us on. Go! Adrenaline surged as I scrambled up the slick muddy slope with Kelsey just in front of me. Young kids and grandmothers were crossing with us, ducking under power lines and grabbing onto the workers for support. Sliding down the other side, our feet touched pavement. We made it!

The crossing wasn't more than 30 feet and it only took a couple minutes, but it was massive. Everything that we knew was now back on the other side. The chance of returning to Banos, the option of staying with our bus, we erased those with our steps. We crossed into the unknown. Looking back at the slide, we laughed with joy and excitement, and a touch of anxiety, realizing the craziness of what just happened.

Looking back at the landslide

Turning away from the slide we took in our new surroundings. Similar to the other side, cars sat parked with drivers napping and chatting. Only, there were far fewer vehicles. This was not a good thing. We were counting on getting a ride from someone to somewhere closer to Tena. Maybe we didn't think this through well enough.

We milled around with the 20 or so others who crossed the landslide, the reality of the challenge ahead setting in. Just then, a school bus pulled up and let off a group of elementary-aged kids. Hold on a second. Here we are at a landslide in the mountains of Ecuador and a yellow school bus drops kids off. There are no houses around and certainly no schools. Where in the world these kids were going, I have no idea. As crazy as it seems, they might have been going to cross the landslide as we just had. But, that wasn't really our concern at the moment. I'm pretty sure everyone in our group had the same idea: that bus was our only way out of here.

We surged toward the school bus. An Ecuadorian man in his late 20s approached the scruffy driver and asked if he'd be willing to give us a ride to the closest town. We were all in this together. After a little negotiating, the driver agreed to give us a lift for $1 a head. Was he abandoning the kids? Perhaps. Who cares?! We had a ride and oh, what a deal!

We paid our fare, hopped on the bus and away we went, rolling down the hill, rounding steep mountain slopes and getting just a little bit closer to Tena. Where we were going, we didn't exactly know.

Fifteen minutes passed and the bus came to a stop just outside the small town of Mera. We said "gracias" as we stepped off the bus and followed along as our companions walked down the road. We arrived in Mera, a town with a stop sign and roadside shop or two. Fortunately, there were taxis there waiting. Were they expecting us? We grouped up with a few guys we befriended along the way and hopped in a taxi that would take us to Puyo for a couple dollars each. This taxi was not like a taxi in the US. We were in the back of a truck sitting on wooden planks. Sure, there was a tarp canopy to shade us from the sun, but that's about it. No seat belts. No meter showing how much you owe. It was awesome.

Walking to Mera

Looking back at where we came from

We chatted with our new friends in both English and Spanish. One man used the opportunity to practice his English and was curious to find out where we were from and what we were doing in Ecuador.

I don't remember exactly where the cab took us. It might have been to the small town of Shell, or somewhere else just outside of Puyo. Either way, when we got out of the cab we somehow figured out that we need to hop on a city bus to get to the main bus terminal where we could buy a ticket to Tena.

The city bus was very similar to a bus in Seattle during rush hour. It was standing room only and it jolted to a start as we set off towards the bus terminal. People talk about wanting to be immersed a country's culture when they travel. If you want culture, take a city bus.

We rolled into the main terminal and were now oh-so close to Tena. Just one more bus ride. Kelsey bought our tickets while I watched our bags. Twenty minutes later we boarded the bus and began the final leg to Tena.

We finally made it. It was 8 PM and the area around the bus station was bustling. The sights, sounds and smells tickled our senses. Food vendors were everywhere, with sizzling meat, fried plantains and hot quesadillas. Several competitive games of a sport that closely resembled volleyball were being played nearby. We chowed down on food, watched the game and let the energy of Tena revive us after our long journey.

Volleyball-like game 

Mmm ... food vendors in Tena

After 30 minutes or so in town, we hailed a cab to Hostal Pakay, which is up in the hills about 5 min. out of town. When we arrived, the hostel owners, Inga and Tony, greeted us graciously and we told tales from our epic day. It turned out one of their employees was also stuck behind the landslide, only she chose to stay with her bus and wait it out, and get this, she beat us to the hostel!

Oh well. We have a pretty good story to tell.

Fun with GoPro

I had heard GoPros were cool and I know a bunch of people who have them, but I had never been compelled to buy one, and I was lucky enough that I didn't have to. This summer I won a GoPro 3+ camera in a raffle at work. Let me tell you, this thing is awesome and if I hadn't won it, I'd go out and buy one today.

It's super easy to use, it captures really great video and it has some really cool photo options, including time-lapse and burst mode. So far I've only made a couple of videos, but I've shot a lot more footage that I'll eventually do something with.

Check out my vids below.

Enchantments:

Enchantments Traverse from Joe Pasteris on Vimeo.

Ruth Mountain:

Ruth Mountain from Joe Pasteris on Vimeo.