I stayed at an eco lodge called Secret Garden, which does have a garden where they grow all the vegetables and keep the cuy (ginea pig) and rabbit that they cook for guests. The lodge was terrific. It strives to be very ecologically conscious and thus the rooms have no electricity, they grow most of their own food, and the rooms do not have any electricity, just candles and a wood stove. Ironically, however, it did have a big hot tub located on a little hill on the property with panoramic views of the national park. But I wasn´t about to criticize the hot tub when it felt so damn good to sit in there with a refreshing beer after a long cold day of being outside.
We arrived in the early afternoon, had a simple lunch of vegetable soup and bread, and hiked out to a nearby waterfall. The hike was actually more difficult that I thought. We basically followed the creekbed and had to do some class five scrambling. It would not have been pleasant to fall, and luckily, I stayed dry.
The next morning, I decided to go on a horseback ride to the park. It was just me and another Bay Area girl, Ruby, and our guide. Ruby grew up in Orinda and had horses as a child; the closest I got to riding was while being led around a ring on a pony. It was clear from the moment I mounted him that my horse knew that I had zero riding experience, and he proceeded to take advantage of it. He would take off on a gallop without provocation while I hung on to the horn for dear life and prayed to the stars that I would not fall off.
The ride was gorgeous, even though visibility was poor. There was no one else on the trail, which led us from the entrance to the national park around the base of the volcano. On a clear day, Cotopaxi would be visible at all times during the ride, but this time we only caught fleeting glimpses of it. Around two hours into our hike, we were riding in a complete whiteout. One hour later, we were riding in a downpour. What was supposed to be a three hour ride had turned into a five hour one, most of which was done in the rain. By the end of the day, my horse and I thoroughly hated each other. It seemed he was anxious to throw me off his back; when he realized that I would hang on even when he galloped, he (deliberately, it seemed) brushed up against trees or low-slung branches in an effort to get rid of me. And he kept turning his head to bite my leg. The feeling was mutual.
I decided that I don´t like horses very much.
