Guasuntos, Ecuador

The dogs on the Panamericana have an uncanny ability to sense vulnerable cyclists. Leaving Riobamba, we were immediately confronted with a pack of muts, minding their own mundane business until the three of us rolled by, at which point their interests perked and the hot pursuit was on. I sped by first, narrowly avoiding a nip at 40 kmph, as did Sven, but Soren wound up trampeling the mangy animal at full speed, sending it shrieking into the opposite ditch. After truing the wheel and wiping off the gutter stench, we were back on track, only to experience similar episodes further down the road. Since rabies vaccinnations are at a shortage right now, we're taking every precaution to avoid contact with these creatures, equipped with rocks in our pockets and Billy at our side.

The countryside of the Panamericana has been surprisingly refreshing, lined with a cultivated grid of greenery superimposed on the steep embankments. Midway through our leisurely ride, we me a couple of Ecuadorian cyclists equipped with substandard mountain bikes, shoulder bags, and tent poles. They had been riding the same route as we were, but with a mere fraction of the gear. After sharing a few roadside delicacies, they tipped us off to a festival happening in Guasuntos, a tiny town just beyond our projected destination. Pushing onward, we found exactly what we had been told, a town of no more than 100 people, populated with 500 festival seekers, now including 3 gringos. The hospitality we experienced upon arrival was impressive as the Presidente of the organization sought food, shelter, and drinks for us within minutes of sitting down. Before we knew it, we had beds laid out in the church, shots of warm candella in our bellies, and dozens of people offering their assistance for whatever our hearts desired.

Well into the night, we found our bicycling buddies from earlier that day, scarfing ice cream on the street after having just arrived. Later, we witnessed a pageant of primetime proportions staged in the main square of Guasuntos, as the townspeople unfalteringly conjured their festive enthusiasm for yet another night of their two-week festival. Live music, barrio queens, food, and drink tantalized our senses, keeping us occupied for well beyond what we had expected.

An unfortunate incident occured that night within the holy walls where our gear was stored, one that left Soren without his camera. Discovering this the following morning, we sought whatever measures could be expected from a sleepy village. The Padre did his part in investigating and the Presidente asked the police chief to file a formal report. With hope, we'll be compensated for the material thing, but in no way can the immaterial things be replaced. Despite the expensive misfortune of the night before, we maintained our good faith in the people of Guasuntos who continued to offer their resources for however long we chose to stay. We hung around for another day, playing soccer, dancing salsa, and throwing dice, but the Panamericana called us before we could witness the bullfight that was to happen the next day. Without overextending our stay, we were able to see genuine Ecuadorian hospitality and experience a rarely witnessed, remarkably grand festival that fueled our quest for days to follow.