January 5th, 2015.
San Rafael Falls, Ecuadors biggest cascades, and my first Ecuadorian off the beaten path adventure. Which is somewhat funny since the waterfalls themselves are maybe 40 minutes walk off the main road which ferries countless tourists from Quito to the Northern Amazon reserves of Ecuador like Cuyabeno National Park. But for whatever reason almost no one stops. Trust me when I say they don’t know what they’re missing.
The day started in Quito packing up my bags which was complicated by the fact that my large day pack still smelled worse than death from the driving rains of Mindo and definitely had to be left behind to dry in the sun after an immensely thorough hand washing. Luckily a friend here agreed to look after it while I’m gone.
My Big pack and tiny detachable day packed stuffed full, I left My home in Quito behind and walked the few blocks to the bus stop where I climbed aboard the C4 tram for 0.25 cents bound for Quitumbe bus terminal, the southern bus terminal in Quito and the biggest one I’ve seen yet.
After just over an hour on the public tram I climbed out and tried to sort through the maze of ticket offices looking for one that sold tickets to Lago Agrio, the strange oil town that serves as the gateway to the amazon. To further complicate things the company I ended up going with was called Banos, a very popular tourist location in Ecuador.
Either way at the window I told the attendant I was headed for Las Cascadas de San Rafael and unfortunately was told I had to purchase a ticket all the way to Lago Agrio and just tell the driver. Oh well, the government subsidized gasoline makes busies in Ecuador incredibly cheap. The roughly 8 hour ride to Lago Agrio costs all of 8 USD plus a 20 cent terminal fee.
The buses run roughly every hour but I’ve come during the seemingly one break at the day just after 10 am and have to wait until 11:50am for the next bus, but time passes quickly with a tablet and bad T.V.
Soon enough I’m on the bus ascending up out of the valley that holds Quito and into the true height of the Andes. The scenery is spectacular and keeps me enthralled as we zig zag slowly through the green mountains. At some points we’re so high the mist robs us of any vista, but as we descend a little past Papallacta (a town famous for hot springs.) towering waterfalls occasionally brake the green cover of the seemingly endless forest. I have to fight the urge to jump through the window and disappear into the jungle.
We end up stopping at a gas station for a full 45 minutes as a bathroom break, extended by another broken down bus our drivers kindly decide to help. An hour after that and it’s almost 5 pm by the time I’m climbing out of the bus just after crossing a big white bridge over the Rio Reventador.
I walk up the driveway to the Hosteria Reventador and before long I’m checked into a spacious single room. The cost is more than I’m used to at 39 dollars a night, but as far as I could see it was the only traditional option outside of camping, and I don’t own my own tent. (Something I might have to remedy before long.)
Still the Hosteria is a step up from my usual digs. A Pool and Hot tub are highlights, surrounded by a lovely gardened full of fascinating birds. There’s also an onsite restaurant (more or less your only culinary option if you don’t have a car) and for three dollars A hike up along Rio Reventador to a view point of the very active and very beautiful Volcan Reventador.
After a quick look around the grounds I head back to the main road and walk five minutes back towards quito to the narrow turn off for San Rafael Falls. These cascades are Ecuador’s largest, at least for now. A Chinese funded Damn project is likely to bring an end to all that by 2016 when the controversial Coca-Codo Sinclair project damn (not a typo, only meant to convey my feelings) is complete. So far I’ve been told four Chinese workers have died and the Damn has been in various stages since the 80’s so it’s possible they’ll be more delays, but my advice is get there as soon as you can. It’s worth it. (For those interested read more about the dam here.)
I walk hurriedly down the road knowing It might be tough to beat the setting sun, but resolved to do so. A few small rivers run under the road offering tantalizing glimpses of what is to come.
At the bottom of the road is some sort of dam or military complex on the right, and a small office straight ahead where you register to go to the falls. If you are not ecuadorian you must bring your passport. Lonely Planet mentions a ten dollar entry fee but this is wrong and visiting the falls is entirely free, they just record your passport info and point you to the trail on your left.
Registration seen too, I head down the trail and walk for about 17 minutes through a lovely jungle, full of bird calling and soon after by a strange high pitch humming noise emanating from a strange collection of valves and pipes fenced off. I leave it behind unsure of what it is and cross the first of three bridges on the way to the main attraction.
As I cross the second and third bridges It gets harder and harder to keep going past the little waterfalls which call to me, but the sun is running out and a walk along the main highway back to the hostel in darkness doesn’t sound ideal. As I grow closer the dirt path descends further and the crashing sound of the waterfall leaks through the thick canopy to my right. I look away, looking to preserve the reveal.
Suddenly I’m standing in a clearing with a small wooden lookout built, gaping down at something out of another world. The sound is all encompassing and the view overwhelms all else for a few moments before I return to my body. You know what, words can’t do it.
To make things even better there’s no one there. I’m utterly alone in front of this unbelievable spectacle.
I stand there Jaw hanging for several endless yet disappearing minutes, remembering how I felt at Khone Phapheng falls back in Laos, Kravice Falls in Bosnia, Krka Falls in Croatia, and at La Chorrero Colombia’s tallest Cascades. At least for looking, San Rafael tops them all, though incredibly frustratingly it’s impossible to get down to the base of the falls without some serious climbing equipment and a possible death wish. (I’m still tempted to go back and try)
Shaking myself out my awestricken state, I slip under the wooden fence and take the few steps out to an even better, if more dizzying view, where the land before me disappears in sheer cliffs plunging down to the rushing river and revealing another narrower waterfall feeding the same torrent. I spend half an hour lost in the untouched paradise before me before realizing I’ve lingered too long.
Snapping a few last photos I head back up the trail as quickly as I can make the climb, hoping to beat the vanishing sun in a race to our respective homes for the night. I manage it, just barely. And as I reach the road up to the main road I’m gifted with a lovely dusk view of the volcano for which my hostel is named.
I head back to the hostel and enjoy a decent if pricey dinner of fish soup, rice, veggies and juice, (7$) before heading to bed early, already sure I’ll be back at Cascadas San Rafael, but not before exploring one of the other waterfalls in the region, Cascadas de Magica, first thing tomorrow morning. One more photo.
