While we are riding a Dual sport route, I expected the terrain to be tame by all accounts. In fact, Ecuador has paving roads and incredible rate even when you consider the embezzlement/corruption of Country funds only pave 1 mile out of 5 miles funded. After day 1, Kellie was inquiring how technical the terrain might get in the days to come. It seems that Kellie hasn't ridden an offroad bike for the last 30 years.
Last year, Blaster and I did decided to complete a local Warrior Dash. For those that have not partaken in Warrior Dash is a blend of fat kids Ropes Course in which you traverse 5K of wilderness on foot while encountering 10-12 military style obstacles. After the first mile marker, and a REALLY big hill, they posted a sign about 10 steps from the summit. I didn't need a sign, what I needed as I gasped what seemed to be my last breath of life giving oxygen was maybe medic. As the oxygen level in my blood returns to 98%, I contemplate the verbiage on the sign:
![[IMG]](https://blaster11.smugmug.com/Vacation/ECU16/ECUD2/i-hVxJ6ZL/0/L/2012%20-%2007-28%20-%2011%20-%20Warrior%20Dash%20Course%20-%20Obstacle%208%20%286%29-L.jpg)
At lunch, we are booking down a high speed dirt road. So fun in fact, Blaster and I over shoot the turn. The turn, as it will be affectionately know from this point on, might as well leading to path to hell. The road narrows and well soon find out the scrub is covering the ditches. Soon after that, it now has some loose soil as it descends. An old farrier once told me, when you walk around with a hammer in your hand all day, everything starts looking like a nail. Luckily for me, the DR200 is my hammer. The 21 inch front wheel and the lightness, she just hops and skips her little way down the hill. Even as we approach 3 Ecuadorians in a some sort of delivery truck. Now what the heck this truck is doing here I don't know, and he's really tried to yield right of way, but there just plumb isn't much room.
![[IMG]](https://blaster11.smugmug.com/Vacation/ECU16/ECUD2/i-gRdDD9P/0/L/truck0-L.jpg)
The more portly F800 decides just to lock up the TKC70 and slide her way via the run off ditch past the truck. DR200 just chugs right along.
![[IMG]](https://blaster11.smugmug.com/Vacation/ECU16/ECUD2/i-DXrV6PG/0/L/truck2-L.jpg)
We get to the bottom of the hill and look back. There's clearly some sort of log jam, but Keith and Kellie will just need to pluck their way through too. And the minutes tick on. The next thing which is noted, that eye blinding florescent jacket is sauntering up the hill what appears to be on foot. I will suspend my first thought which Keith has been marauded by a Sasquatch whom took his Klim jacket and is now walking away from the crime scene.
Blaster and I decide it's been a bit too long, and we should return to the scene of the crime to provide assistance. As we get the bikes rerouted to the reverse heading, we pass an Ecuadorian on a very nice bike. My spidey sense is that Ecuadorians don't normally ride large displacement bikes and this rider has smile from ear to ear. In the next 10 feet, we see Kellie hobbling down the hill. It seems that she "came from together" not once, but twice, trying to navigate around the delivery truck.
The GDP per capita for Ecuador is $11,300. She was completely flummoxed as all of us were on the far side of the truck and she felt stranded. After the kid from the truck rescued her, she gave him $20 to ride the bike 100 feet down the trail. So pretty much, a day's is $30 and this kid just earned most of for hopping on a bike. I guess he's a friend of Andrew (As in Andrew Jackson, the guy on the $20 portrait!) This is a 3rd world problem!
![[IMG]](https://blaster11.smugmug.com/Vacation/ECU16/ECUD2/i-2hKkhzd/0/L/truck4-L.jpg)
While the kid is more than happy to continue to ride Kellie's bike, it's probably best if Keith dust off her pride and get us on the trail again. About this point, the afternoon sun is getting low in the sky and the rain has moved in, we clearly need to beat feat.
![[IMG]](https://blaster11.smugmug.com/Vacation/ECU16/ECUD2/i-275BP87/0/L/truck6-L.jpg)
We decide to forgo the last bit of dirt and tarmac into Mindo. The driveway to the bird lodge is the last big challenge for Kellie for the day. She's not loving this last bit, but all is well as her helmet pops open and she gazes at the hostel.
Last year, Blaster and I did decided to complete a local Warrior Dash. For those that have not partaken in Warrior Dash is a blend of fat kids Ropes Course in which you traverse 5K of wilderness on foot while encountering 10-12 military style obstacles. After the first mile marker, and a REALLY big hill, they posted a sign about 10 steps from the summit. I didn't need a sign, what I needed as I gasped what seemed to be my last breath of life giving oxygen was maybe medic. As the oxygen level in my blood returns to 98%, I contemplate the verbiage on the sign:
At lunch, we are booking down a high speed dirt road. So fun in fact, Blaster and I over shoot the turn. The turn, as it will be affectionately know from this point on, might as well leading to path to hell. The road narrows and well soon find out the scrub is covering the ditches. Soon after that, it now has some loose soil as it descends. An old farrier once told me, when you walk around with a hammer in your hand all day, everything starts looking like a nail. Luckily for me, the DR200 is my hammer. The 21 inch front wheel and the lightness, she just hops and skips her little way down the hill. Even as we approach 3 Ecuadorians in a some sort of delivery truck. Now what the heck this truck is doing here I don't know, and he's really tried to yield right of way, but there just plumb isn't much room.
The more portly F800 decides just to lock up the TKC70 and slide her way via the run off ditch past the truck. DR200 just chugs right along.
We get to the bottom of the hill and look back. There's clearly some sort of log jam, but Keith and Kellie will just need to pluck their way through too. And the minutes tick on. The next thing which is noted, that eye blinding florescent jacket is sauntering up the hill what appears to be on foot. I will suspend my first thought which Keith has been marauded by a Sasquatch whom took his Klim jacket and is now walking away from the crime scene.
Blaster and I decide it's been a bit too long, and we should return to the scene of the crime to provide assistance. As we get the bikes rerouted to the reverse heading, we pass an Ecuadorian on a very nice bike. My spidey sense is that Ecuadorians don't normally ride large displacement bikes and this rider has smile from ear to ear. In the next 10 feet, we see Kellie hobbling down the hill. It seems that she "came from together" not once, but twice, trying to navigate around the delivery truck.
The GDP per capita for Ecuador is $11,300. She was completely flummoxed as all of us were on the far side of the truck and she felt stranded. After the kid from the truck rescued her, she gave him $20 to ride the bike 100 feet down the trail. So pretty much, a day's is $30 and this kid just earned most of for hopping on a bike. I guess he's a friend of Andrew (As in Andrew Jackson, the guy on the $20 portrait!) This is a 3rd world problem!
While the kid is more than happy to continue to ride Kellie's bike, it's probably best if Keith dust off her pride and get us on the trail again. About this point, the afternoon sun is getting low in the sky and the rain has moved in, we clearly need to beat feat.
We decide to forgo the last bit of dirt and tarmac into Mindo. The driveway to the bird lodge is the last big challenge for Kellie for the day. She's not loving this last bit, but all is well as her helmet pops open and she gazes at the hostel.