The sun again dictated my early wake-up time of 6am. I rolled myself out of bed to use the bathroom and when I flipped the light switch nothing happened. Huh. I flipped it back down. Back up. Nothing. Odd. I flipped the switch in the bedroom, nothing there either. Well crap, the power is out. No power anywhere to be had. I sent a message to the AirBnB hosts and received a pretty rapid response that power was out in the whole town and will hopefully be back by 9am; power issues are common on the island. This meant no way to heat water for tea, no caffeine before the long day. It also meant that no restaurants were operating and there was no way to get breakfast. Thankfully Kyra and I both travel with plenty of snacks so a protein bar and a bag of nuts would have to do. Outside the linemen were indeed hard at work, precariously positioned on a power pole right outside the house.
Carlos, our private guide for the day, arrived with our driver promptly at 7:30am. The 35ish minute drive to Sierra Negra was so cloudy and misty we could barely see the road in front of us. Dogs laying in the street made me nervous and two chased us down the street barking at the truck, they did not appreciate our intrusion on their naps! Though my Spanish is limited, our guide was chatting with the driver and I was pretty sure he was talking about concern over if it would be too cloudy for us to see the craters.
Arriving at the base of Sierra Negra, we lagged to let a tour group get ahead and then hurried to get ahead of the next. It didnāt matter, we still passed groups on the trail, one older lady was telling her mates that she found a YouTube video with a program on āboosted walkingā that sheās done to increase her stamina. Good for her! I am very curious what the heck boosted walking is now and will have to remember to look it up when I get home. The trail was a very stable compacted wide path lined with guava trees and farm land. Guavas are not native to the islands but were planted for food and their seeds spread prolifically by the finches. The farmland to the south included a cute little calf desperately desiring some attention; he definitely wanted a kiss on the nose. He mooād as we past and ran along the fence line to follow us. I felt so bad leaving him behind as the trail climbed on.
This was not a particularly difficult trail but the steady incline challenged my lungs. The reward at the top would be a view of the massive Sierra Negra crater. A guide was taking a couple along the trail on horses; horses are for cheaters on a trail like this! From the
The mist had cleared and the sun came out to play as we climbed. Reaching the first viewpoint I was giddy that the skies had completely cleared so our eyes could feast upon the entire massive crater before us. This crater was huge but only on portion on the eastern side was responsible for the activity. The clouds cast shadows on the fragile lava bed and I wished I could scamper down for a closer view.
Carlos was proving himself to be a wonderful guide. Born in Guayaquil his parents moved back to Isabela when he was 9 (I think that’s what he said), where they were from, to take over his grandparents’ farming. Since there was no education on the islands at the time they sent him back to Guayaquil where he did his childhood education and attended university, earning a degree in IT. He worked in IT for a while before coming back to the islands and became one of the premier guides, assisting the National Parks, when the volcanoes on Isabela became active and visitors flooded to the island. Pre-pandemic he worked as a guide on some of the cruises. He had a true passion for the island and these volcanoes; he and his buddies were training for a trek around the entire crater rim. He talked to us about how difficult it had been during the pandemic when tourism came to a halt. Even telling us the method that the locals used to hunt all the wild pig (an introduced not native animal) so they could eat during the pandemic; they’d rely on packs of dogs to pull a pig down and then stab it directly in the heart.
At the second viewing point Carlos demonstrated to us how sounds echoed around Sierra Negra. He sent a whistle forward and we heard it come back. He sent a whistle to the side and we heard it circle around and come back the other side. We were on the precipice of natureās echo chamber.
At the farthest edge of the crater that we would visit, two benches overlooked the active spot of the crater. Not a terrible spot for a picnic! Carlos had presented us with our lunch sacks when he picked us up in the morning and we found a delicious homemade meal of potato cakes and sausages, accompanied by juice, an apple, and a sweet treat. After lunch Kyra and I both needed to pee and Carlos stood guard to ensure nobody came down the path of the selected pee bush; when a man from a large group that had just arrived started to approach I heard, āNo, you have to wait, someone is in there.ā I love that he actually stopped them!
Lunch and potty break done; it was time to turn off the side and head down to Volcan Chico; Carlos explaining that it would be like we were entering Mars. The trail started out steep with loose gravel adding a little challenge. One bad step and, whoosh, down Kyra went, legs akimbo landing on her knee. Using what we hand on hand, a couple band aids and alcohol wipes from my pack, some hand wipes and coagulation powder from Carlosā, Kyra cleaned and bandaged as well as possible and we all became a lot more conscious of our steps; we were now out of band aids after all!
The trail was much narrower than the main trail to Sierra Negra but still lined with greenery; for now. I asked Carlos about a large tree that looked different than the others. He informed me that they called it a soap tree as the bubbled and smelled good when put into hot water. I sooooooo badly wanted to grab some leaves to take with me and find out for myself but my eco friendly tourism conscious wouldnāt let me. Like the ceiba tree I saw yesterday; this tree also had it’s own unique fern ecosystem growing on its limbs.
The trail started to level out and the terrain started to change dramatically. I grew giddy and mesmerized by lava tubes with colorful mineral deposits pushing up from the ground. I could imagine the lava flowing through the hollow tubes during an eruption before spewing forth during an eruption. Twin steam vents emerged on the side of the trail, showcasing a warm terrarium with ferns growing within. The vegetation grew more sparse.
Around the next bend the mars landscape started to emerge as we found ourselves on a lava field dotted with cactus. This was the lava flow of 1979. The more Martian the landscape became, the more excited I became. I knew I wanted to do this additional Volcan Chico hike but I didnāt realize it would be this; my expectations were already significantly exceeded. In one area there was a visible wave where the lava flowed through and dried in a formation worthy of a surfboard. Iāve said it before and Iāll say it again, nature is freaking amazing.
Around a bend we encountered a gorgeous display of rainbow colored chunks of lava and white crystal formation. I picked up and examined lava rocks; they were light as a meringue. The steam cause minerals to leave from the lava rock, creating crystals as they drain. Just past we arrived at a mini crater, sunken into the ground.
Around the next bend we found ourselves on the rim of a stunning crater. This was it; the destination had been reached! But no, I was wrong. Carlos pointed where to be careful and waved us up to scale the lip of the steep crater rim. With a few deep breaths to ease my fear of the drastic drops on either side I reached for the first rock that made sense and began scaling up the top. āJust look straight ahead, donāt look the side, donāt look to the drops, look to the middle and climb,ā Carlos instructed.
I was already giddy before and now I was elated. I stood at the peak of the crater rim smiling and absorbing every inch of the 360Ā° view around me. Volcan Chico was the name of this entire lava field and active area, not of one particular crater. I felt like I was standing on top of the world; looking at he Martian landscape with the ocean beyond, islands off in the distance. In the other direction, waves of lava and collapsed lava formations and tunnels.
I walked the crater rim and that of the twin crater separated by a mere 30 or so feet of land. I was in my happy place. A very happy place. It tugged at my heart to have to step away and start the hike back. I lagged behind; not wanting to leave. My heart belongs in a volcano, go figure.
Eventually it was time to turn my back and walk away from the rim; walking away is always the hardest part. We had taken our sweet time getting there, not wanting to miss any detail. Weād need to make time getting back. Carlos seemed to be anxious to get back as well. On the way there he was patient and stopped to wait for us whenever we stopped; on the way back he was setting an example and leading the charge. After a quick stop we couldnāt even see him ahead; he was not stopping now!
It was sad to have to move so quick getting back but necessary. The downhill was a challenge with the gravel on the way there and no more fun returning and having to huff and puff back up. My heart rate regularly raced and Iād stop and let it come down from the 160 range to 140. My lungs burned but I made it.
The clouds were drawing in and when we made it back to the rim of Sierra Negra it was completely shrouded in white puff. You wouldnāt even know it was there. Carlos told us that the hike he guided three days prior never saw the crater as the clouds never cleared that entire day. I would have been so upset if we hadnāt gotten to see it! Though I will say, while the size was impressive, in comparison to Volcan Chico, the massive main Sierra Negra crater wasnāt nearly as special.
The hike back was in solitude as no other hikers had taken their sweet time as much as we had that day. Even amongst our little group of Kyra, Paul, Carlos, and myself we were often in solitude from each other, hiking at our own paces. Carlos seemed to relax once he had a spot of reception to provide our driver with an update. Clouds kept rolling in thicker and the mossy trees in the misty air with the road ahead obscured from view made it feel like I was walking through a magic forest as we descended. I loved the peaceful quiet and having stillness in my mind as I put one foot in front of the other.
Carlos was a phenomenal guide; he had an interesting backstory and was a wealth of knowledge. His passion for the islands was clearly evident as he led us throughout the day. Total distance for our hike came in at almost exactly 11 miles as we reached the bottom of the trailhead and the truck waiting to take us back to town.
Sitting felt wonderful after the 11 mile trek that weād started about 5 1/2 hours earlier. We were momentarily held up on the road by a small cluster of cows that simply stared at us, āThou shall not pass!ā Our driver carefully maneuvered between them. Thinking ahead in the morning, I had brought my phone charger with me in case I had the opportunity to charge my phone on the way back so I wouldnāt have issues taking pictures in the afternoon. Both Kyra and Paul had less juice left on theirs and I almost felt bad as I plugged the power in and connected my phone but Iām the one who thought to bring a charger and I had made sure to put my phone into airplane mode so I didnāt feel that bad.
It was after 3pm when we finally made it back to the house. Thankfully, Kyra and Paul’s luggage had also finally arrived and was waiting on the porch. There was a bit less than three hours of sunlight left and things I still wanted to see! I beelined straight to the bathroom to wash my hands but when I turned the sink handles nothing happened. I tried the other sink in my bathroom. Nothing. I tried the shower. Nothing. And I heard Kyra yell, no water in her bathroom either. We had power again but we didnāt have water. What the hell?! I sent a message to our AirBnB host and her husband was there within five minutes, wrenching away on the water pump. Within about 20 minutes it was fixed and I could finally wash my hands.
Paul stayed behind to do their laundry while Kyra and I rented bikes from a shop a few doors down and set off back towards the Wall of Tears. We werenāt going all the way to the wall but about halfway there and back to see all the stops we didnāt have time to yesterday. These bikes rode a little better in the sand but the shocks were way worse and I did a lot of bouncing.
Two miles down the road we hit our first stop, El Estero. Weād both heard that this was a must-see spot on the way to the Wall so I had been anxious to experience it. The path from the little road was lined with Majuaga trees; indicating that there was fresh water below. The trees grew tall and gnarly, forming a little tunnel we had to stoop down to duck-walk thorough. At the end of the short path the trees opened to a beautiful little beach with crystal clear, shallow, green water. A lone sea lion was lounging in the sun. She began to roll and rolled herself all the way into the water. It was a lesson in efficiency; why bother getting up when you can just roll? I felt bad for disturbing her nap but was glad I got to see this clownish show.
Other than that, there wasnāt much to see. We followed a side path that led us to a rocky lava beach with a super fat marine iguana lounging on the rock and crabs scurrying all around.
Back on our bikes I pulled out my phone to capture the scenery on camera. Coming to our next stop, Kyra hit a deep sand pile and started some fish tailing action. I realized I needed to stop or I was going to crash right into her but I stupidly had my phone in my hand and couldnāt put it away fast enough to get to the brake. Narrowly, very narrowly, avoiding a crash I jumped off of my bike in a dismount worthy of a gymnast gold medal and impressed even myself that I landed upright!
The Tunel del Estero was worth the near crash; the tunel is a lava tube where a section of the top has crashed in; making it an open cave. We crawled into the cave with mosquitoes buzzing our ears. The tube probably ran for miles; there was no end in sight on either end.
Continuing down the trail was Playa del Amor. This rough shell beach is labeled a Playa Organica (organic beach) as the ocean currents have brought the shells and corals that are creating this new rough sandy terrain, eventually they will crush and the sand will soften. A large area was roped off, it was a marina iguana nesting site. More huge fat iguanas napped on the rocks as crabs scurried over the lava outcropping. I explained to Kyra that you could tell the marine iguanas from the land iguanas by the shape of their tails; like a rudder. The land iguanas were more rounded. Another iguana lay sprawled across a side path; all four legs stretched out wide. As I bent to take his picture he snotted at me, a warning to not disturb him. Another came running down the path from behind; its neck and tail both stretched high. This was the first time Iād had one posture at me; maybe this was his lady I was getting close to?
Los Tunos was our next stop on the trail; a large lagoon across the main path from the beach. It was nice but not impressive.
Our last stop on the trail was La Playita. Another stop, another beach. And another pack of fat iguanas lazing in the sun, some covered in sand. Tail and feet tracks out of the water clearly showed that these guys had recently come in from a swim and led to where the lazy bums were now napping. Oh how badly I want to see a marine iguana swimming in the water with me!
La Playita was the last of the points on the Wall of Tears trail. Originally I had planned on a snorkel trip to Concha Perla while on Isabela. Every travel recommendation I read about Isabela included a stop there; a lazy calm bay near the main dock with crystal clear waters, playful sea lions, and marine iguanas. Though we had run out of time and wouldnāt be able to snorkel there I at least wanted to see it. We rode our bikes back past the house and another mile to the pier. Following the boardwalk down to Concha Perla, the mangrove trees rooted in the shallow crystal clear waters. Unfortunately, all we could see was the crystal clear water as the sun was starting to set. No sign of marine life or fish were on display except for sleep iguanas on the dock.
We were starving. Super starving. Also filthy, but hunger was more important; after an 11 mile hike followed by a six mile bike ride, food was well deserved. We returned the bikes, fetched Paul from the house, and walked down to Maestro de Casa, the same restaurant I had eaten in my first night on the island. Another highly recommended restaurant was next door. I suggested to Kyra that she look at both menus and pick which one sounded better; I could easily go either way. As she started to peruse, a little girl came running up to us, āAbierto, abierto!ā She pointed us in, making sure we knew it was open. How could we walk away now?
Cute at first, the little girl quickly became annoying. As we waited for our food she came over to show us her pretty purple eye mask. She was three and getting her age was about as much communication as we could muster. She wanted us to put on the mask. No gracias. She reached up and tried to put it on my head; forcing me to back away and gently push her arm back. Then the little germ factory tried to crawl onto my chair with me! I stood up and gestured to get her mother, the restauranteurās, attention. Thankfully she saw me and grabbed her irritating child, scolding her to leave us alone. The rest of the meal was lovely and delicious as I feasted on the exact same that I had previously; encocado de mariscos (mixed seafood in a tasty coconut sauce), ensalada ecuatoriana, and jugo piƱa.
I was so excited to get back to the house after dinner and finally get to start my own load of laundry and take a shower. The most amazing showers are when youāre totally filthy and get the satisfaction of cleaning off. I washed my hair, applied conditioner and lathered up. The water pressure started to drop, odd, and then it was gone. GONE. NO MORE WATER. NONE. There I was standing in the shower, covered in soap, with conditioner in my hair, and no water. Kyra was just getting ready to get in the shower in the other bathroom and I heard her yell from across the house that she had no water either. I hollered for her to come into my room and asked her to bring me a spare towel. I wiped the suds off of my body and stepped out in a cold daze.
In addition to the water not running, the air conditioner unit in Kyra and Paulās room was still not working. I had already messaged our host about that issue before we left for dinner and supposedly they had fixed it while we were eating. So we had no water and no air in their bedroom. I immediately sent a WhatsApp to the host, āEmergency, no water!ā and tried to call but the phone was not answered. Kyra and I stood there in our towels. I called for a bottle of champagne to be opened (we had grabbed a couple from a local store) as our host responded that her husband would be right over.
Within five minutes he was there and in the dark he started to trouble shoot the air and water; starting with the water at our request. When the power came back on it had fried some already eroded breakers. Heād announce the water was back on and Iād jump back in the shower and then it would stop again. Finally I had enough water pressure to at least hastily rinse the conditioner out of my hair. After an hour he had successfully restored the water but there was no possibility of getting the air conditioning working tonight.
I had high hopes of getting decent rest tonight but the lack of water also delayed the washing machine, in which my clothes were sitting half washed for probably an hour. I finally have them dried so now it’s time to pack up as tomorrow we leave Isabela, fly back to Baltra, and get on the yacht!
Taking On the World 
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