Do Go Chasing Waterfalls

I have an annoying habit of singing the 1995 TLC song "Waterfalls" when our family is hiking anywhere near water; the song loops endlessly when our actual destination is a waterfall. My kids are not yet embarrassed or annoyed by me (I know, that is coming), so for now they join me in singing as we hike along. "Don't go chasing waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to." Recently, astute Brynna realized that the central message of the song did not resonate with her personal philosophy or with our family's adventuring, so she rewrote the chorus. "No, mommy," she corrects me, "It should say, 'DO go chasing waterfalls. DON'T stick to the rivers and the lakes that you are used to." It makes so much more sense to her.

I have to agree with my wise five-year-old's lyric modifications on two accounts. First, waterfalls are definitely worth chasing, and lucky us, Ecuador is brimming with these natural wonders. There is something undeniably majestic about waterfalls; they embody beauty and power, imbued with possibility and always a bit of danger. Waterfalls, quite literally, fill me with awe. Second, sticking to the rivers that we know means being safe, not branching out, not taking risks. Such a life is not just boring, it is stifling. It guarantees missed opportunities and lost possibilities. I have to be honest here that, with the possible exception of lunch orders, Paul is much better than I am at not sticking to rivers and lakes that we are used to. I feel myself too often resisting, catch myself saying out loud or to myself, "No, let's just go back." or "Let's just stick with what we know," and I have to really be aware of that resistance. I have to remind myself that I DO want to chase a waterfall, that I don't believe in sticking to the rivers and the lakes that are comfortable and easy and safe.

All of this pondering is a philosophical meandering to introduce the breathtaking array of waterfalls we have experienced in the last couple of weeks as we traveled into the inter-Andean valleys south of Quito and down into the southern Amazon jungle, from Baños to Puyo, to Macas and Taisha (if you are looking at a map of Ecuador). In the first half of our most recent two-week long adventure we were joined by my best friend from medical school, Michelle, and her two kids, Carmen and Owen. I will save my musings on friendship and Thanksgiving for a separate post. Rest assured, we had an awesome time.

Below you will find the names, a few notes, and pictures of the waterfalls that we biked past, hiked to, jumped in, sat in the spray of, and oggled over the past couple of weeks. There were plenty more we passed along the sides of roads and trails, most nameless but still spectacular. I tried to have everyone in the family pick a favorite, but we each had extreme difficulty doing so. There are just so many good ones! This begs the question, what metrics should be used to judge a waterfall? Height? Size? Mass? Accessibility? The form or shape of the cascade itself? The size or quality of the pool it creates at its feet? Swimmability? The surroundings? The hike to get to it? The variables are innumerable and, in the end, the judgement is personal. What I can say is that there are enough beautiful waterfalls in Ecuador to fill a book, maybe two, and I am so glad to be chasing them with my family.

Here are our favorites:

Cascada Cabellera de la Virgen (Virgen's Hair Waterfall) is an elegant waterfall that sits vigil over the lovely tourist town of Baños and falls quite literally into the oldest public thermal baths in town. It is looooooong and I would say, most strikingly, akin to Big Ben when in London -- always visible, no matter where you are in Baños. As my guidebook states, "[the waterfall] tumbles down the mountainside like a long strip of fine lace."

Ayogán is a huge double waterfall we could see in the distance across a deep river gorge, as we were resting during our bike ride along the Ruta de las Cascadas. What was notable about this enormous waterfall was that there were two inputs of water -- a large river flowing in carrying a large volume of crystalline water, and the outflow of the nearby hydroelectric dam, which was shockingly dark and muddy.

Pailón del Diablo, (Devil's Cauldron) is one of the most famous and the second largest waterfall in Ecuador. This one is my favorite because of its sheer size as well as the deafening sound it makes as it pounds mightily over the cliff. It is powerful. The pool below churns with a force of nature that's hard to describe without seeing it yourself. Jonah called it "the most dangerous waterfall we have ever seen". I was too chicken, but the kids and Paul crawled up the narrow rocky tunnel alongside the waterfall to be able to stand behind this powerhouse of nature.

Ulba Falls is a medium-sized waterfall at the end of a short hike in the hills on the outskirts of Baños. I liked this waterfall because the hike to get there along the river was enchanting, as we stop to collect a rainbow of wildflowers. When we arrived, it felt extremely isolated (we were the only ones there). We didn't linger long with Ulba because it was too chilly to swim and because the powerful spray from the fall was making us even colder. But it was still lovely.

Cascadas de Silencio is Dillon's current favorite waterfall, reached via a side hike off the Ulba falls. Dillon very much appreciated the actual form of these falls; they were not just a single channel of water, but had a spray component, which appeared to be shooting out instead of falling down. There were also three separate falls in the same spot coming from quite a height. The surroundings sealed the deal -- there was a perfect vine that Dillon was able to swing right out over the river and next to the waterfall. "There was nothing in the way between us and the waterfall," he remarked, "It was right there, so close".

Musap is Jonah's favorite waterfall of the trip. A lesser known waterfall on indigenous Shuar land in the southern Amazon, we started our hike by taking off our shoes and hiking up our pants to cross a river before hiking about a mile through the secondary forest. Musap was impressive in size, but also had myriad of small waterfalls coming down around it. Also, Jonah liked how the large Musap falls split into two and then four different falls of varying heights as it cascaded down reddish rocks.

Cascadas del Rio Colorado is hand's down Paul's favorite (Brynna's too), so much so that we visited it twice in three days. Brynna particularly appreciated the long stretch of river that followed the falls, which we could frolic in and follow downstream for several hundred meters. Dillon loved the small swimmable pools, including a deep one at the very bottom. Paul notes that it was beautiful, wonderfully swimmable. He likes waterfalls that you can physically get up behind. He also appreciated that there was limited access to a second fall above the more often visited first one. IN fact, he climbed up the wooden plank to go explore the upper falls himself. We managed to go here twice in three days -- first with just our family, next with our extended Ecuadorian family on the way home.

Cascada Samikin is notable for its precipitous drop from a calm river pool even further into the jungle. At 70 meters in height with a precarious viewing ledge, it definitely felt risky to be standing at the top. We had already seen two other beautiful falls that day, and so we didn't linger, but there appeared to be a decent swimming pool down at the bottom.

Dos Rios outside of Taisha in Morona-Santiago, was a remote little fall where two rivers -- one warm, the other cool -- join to form a larger river. My dear friend, Alba, brought us to this little spot to cool off from the heat of the jungle, barbecue lunch with the family, play some Ecua-volley, and spend a family day together. Unfortunately, the night before, it had rained hevily, which meant that the river had grown, so the water was a rough and little intimidating. But we still had a great day!

I am eternally grateful for Paul's loving yet persistent urging to step outside my comfort zone in search of waterfalls and rivers to splash in, and for my wonderfully adventurous kiddos, who very much follow in their father's footsteps.