I DID survive the trip and it was a very wonderful trip at that. Hopefully this large note can sum up what happened or didn't happen.

This hoopla began in Quito at approximately 10 something p.m. and me being in a slightly confused state (normal) wandering off of an airplane, not remembering my spanish vocabulary. Was it raining? Wait, no. It was raining in Tulsa. Or was it Miami? Donde esta ...mi cabeza? mi cerveza?

Much to my huge relief, the scruffy kiwi came through and escorted my confusion throughout the majority of the trip. Maybe all of those death-threats to show up really did work?

Next began the following week, which filled my brain with incredibly alien things. I watched people my grandparents' age (they're still young, mind you) hauling monstrous packs weighing 3x myself (ok 4x); I'm sure these women could beat up anyone in the UFC. I found that I could purchase 50 oranges for one dollar. Children giggled at ducks and chickens in a language I still don't understand.

But the first of ordeals: I needed money. I somehow got hungry and used up every bit of my cash on food which is not at all surprising. Scientists have estimated that I consume approximately one ton of food per hour.

Fortunately, ATMs exist in Ecuador and there are lots in Quito. I mosied my way to one with the kiwi, dreaming of what native dish would fill my belly later that next hour. The birds were chirping, the flies were buzzing and yea,... it all came crashing down.

"TRANSACTION NOT PERMITTED."

This repeated itself every second, third, fourth, and fifth time I tried. Much to my dismay, the machine refused to cooperate and give me money. But much to my upmost relief and some crazy bit of luck, the kiwi paid for everything, well, pretty much. And now I now owe him an attractive wad of cash.

Anyhoo, that was the first of tiny ordeals. The next ordeal began with the main reason for traveling to Ecuador in the first place. It was a big lump called Mt. Cotopaxi, which is over 19,000 feet. It has a glacier blanketing the top of it like a large slop of melting ice cream. It looked pretty easy to me and technically, it isn't a terribly challenging climb. The only challenge of this beast was its obviously annoying altitude.

I've traveled to Leadville, Colorado, which is over 10,000 feet, numerous times. I didn't fear the altitude so much but knew to inhale water frequently and be as active as possible without killing the brain or the lungs in the process.

In order to prep ourselves, we: rode the Teleferico up, hiked and gave ourselves a headache [day 1], strolled along on a windy caldera called Quilatoa (sp?), mountain biked through sheep in the highlands [day 2 or 3], and ended up in a hostel called Valhalla out in the middle of the beautiful countryside [perhaps day 4]. This place had a stunning view of surrounding peaks, including Mt. Cotopaxi which was covered in clouds/fog/rain 95% of the time anytime we saw it.

[Day 1]: This was truly the first time I had ever walked in a South American city, and a fairly large one at that with almost 2 million people. We paid the extra dollar for comfort and security of an area of town called "Gringo Tierra" or White Man Land. There is a significant difference in this area compared to the rest of Quito: higher prices, much cleaner looking buildings, supposedly more pick pockets, abundant foreign restaurants/guide companies, etc... the touristy part!

Before I came to Ecuador, I read the constant warnings of Pick Pockets! Rapes! Kidnappings! And Other Horrible Things! that can only be found in South America, especially in a South American city. I absorbed the Lonely Planet's guide to Ecuador and the US's site on Ecuador safety, which emphasized these dangers even more so. I was greatly relieved to be traveling with a male, who I could trip and hopefully outrun in case of any emergency (see: alaska bear blog). BUT, as kiwi can confirm, I was still keenly aware of all of these "dangers" to an extent where I could have technically been called a wuss and possibly paranoid. This lovely American anxiety made it all the more interesting to walk through a city where I was going to get mugged, threatened, gunned down, drugged, etc at ANY second with ANY "hola!" I made.

The funny thing was, after being there for a few days and seeing how incredibly soft my life was compared to the majority of people living/working there, I felt like the biggest, selfish idiot. Children, elderly, middle-aged, my own age, working endlessly just to get by each day. Of course there were children begging for change in dirty streets. I wondered when the last time some of these people had been to a doctor, or even had the opportunity to see one at all. Honestly, it was very sad.

And according to the warnings, these people were out to get me at any second.

Maybe I'd have a better outcome if I were paranoid about aliens than Ecuadorians. For the most part, people were friendly to me and even giggled any time I tried to speak my rancid spanish.

[Day 2]: It was time for mountain biking! and hiking! We stayed at a refugio near a caldera called Quilatoa (sp). We ended the night deliciously with food and beer while chatting with other tourists/travelers and locals. The wind howled continously throughout the night while people tossed extra wood into the stoves. I huddled into my sleeping bag and listened to people snore. There were no lights and I soon learned the importance of having a trusty headlamp on hand in order to find a bathroom in the middle of a very crisp, dark night.

It was cloudy and super duper windy when we started the hike down the enormous water-filled caldera that morning. Little specks proved to be boats when we got close enough to see them. How the boats got down the narrow, winding path was a mystery to me.

Once we got back to the refugio, we started our mountain biking through the highlands. We saw sheep, cows, pigs, chickens, dogs, hills, mountains, canyons, fields, farmers, children, and cars. We started from the top of two mountainous areas and coasted down at probably mach 3.

After a long day of hiking and biking, we rested at Valhalla and soaked up the scenery as the sun began to crawl to the horizon. The kiwi informed me that he had a headache; good thing he came to the right person. I have solutions to every single problem in the world and to life in general.

I told him as-a-matter-of-factly that "Oh, you're just dehydrated. Drink a lot of water and you should be fine!"

It sounded good to me at the moment, and he actually thought so too and proceeded to chug a bottle. It wasn't even five minutes later when he started upchucking in a trash can on the side of the bed. Whoops.

BUT, he didn't have a headache anymore... I don't think... and then I took his picture.

The following day we were going to the Saquisili market, which happens every Thursday from about 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. This market has everything from jewelry to Peruvian hats to roasted guinea pigs. I chose the hat.

I have never in my entire life, even with my father's driving mind you, been so scared of dying. The Pan-American highway, which is the main rode running North and South to/from Quito in South America, is probably the most ridiculous thing for a timid driver/rider to go on. Buses filled past their carrying capacity weave in and out of traffic, coming within inches to a metal/human build-up. Fatalities from wrecks are a common occurence. Even the day we left for the market there was a car pile-up which resulted in four deaths. Nevertheless, cars and autobuses drive like inebriated monkies again once the wrecks clear.

We arrived to a small town called Saquisili, which is about 2-3 hours South of Quito. The autobus fee was 40 cents which wasn't at all bad considering we just hitched. The town was PACKED with people, animals, fruits, vegetables, jewelry, clothes, and other random, useful things. This is probably where Walmart originated from. There were supposedly eight sections to this infamous market of Saquisili; we found four or five I think.

Once we had our fill of socializing, we got pressured onto an autobus to Quito. It was a strange ride back near Quito. We were the only caucasions on board and it seemed as if most people on board knew that. This is probably when I received my worst case of unfriendliness, which was a dirty scowl from a cool Dood wearing sunglasses when I accidentally elbowed him in the head in an attempt to scramble my way off the bus.

I'd be lying if I didn't tell you I've had worse treatment from my brothers. All in all, I was happy to get off the claustrophobic bus after trying to explain [in rancid spanish again] where the heck the bus needed to stop. We literally jumped off the moving thing and I grumbled my way back to the hostel... "Did you see the glare I got from that jerk in the sunglasses!?" [maybe I'm overly sensitive]

That night, we ate very well with our new buddies from Switzerland, France, Belgium, and Canada who were staying at Valhalla. They wished us the best of luck for the following day, which would be spent acclimating at 15,000 feet at the refugio in full view of Mt. Cotopaxi's summit.

Yee-haw. To be continued...