Cut Your Turd Elsewhere, This Isn’t the Bathroom!

A steamy memory from April 2012

Baños; a small town located in the mountains of Ecaudor translated to “baths” in English. Quite literally the word Baño is often translated to “bathroom” in English. We couldn’t help thinking upon our arrival if we had entered the bathrooms of Ecuador, we could hardly wait to see the sewer! The small town was alive with energetic locals and surrounding my stunning views of mountains towering over the people fortunate enough to wake to such beauty. Seldom had we found ourselves dumbfounded with surprise and appreciation, yet Baños held that distinct capability.

We trudged through the town in search of a place to call home for the next few nights, securing a room with…wait, what is this? Is that a TV…with one ENGLISH channel? Dost my eyes deceive me?   Having spent far more time in rooms harboring a worn spring mattress or dorms complete with multiple bunks, our own private TV had become quite the luxury! On ground level we were privy to the use of a communal kitchen, perfect capable of simple pasta meals should we choose to break from the local cuisine options; not often considered with the amount of options available to us.

As we dropped our packs in our room and began exploring the town, it was evident we had ventured to a place unlike any other we had experienced. A select amount of locals wove and strung large masses of taffy over a hook secured to the outside of their shops. As evening fell, people flocked to the naturally fed hot springs on the outskirts of town. With temperatures quickly falling and my male member becoming increasingly similar to the size of my youth, I could hardly wait to offer warmth to my most delicate of spaces on my body. After all, it wasn’t every day we could join locals from an unfamiliar country for a soak at the spa!

We scampered quickly along the streets to the steam rising in the distance, eager to submerge our quickly chilled bodies into the warmth of the hot springs. Rarely had I stripped myself so quickly with anticipation of what was to come, even knowing it wasn’t an intimate moment with my beloved. I shuffled out of the primitive locker room and waited for Jessie to join me before stepping into the warm water, my nipples responding to the uncomfortable cold wind constricting them to the point of nearly poking eyes out should I shiver to violently with others around me.

Finally, she joined me. We ignored the multiple of locals joining us I the large pools of hot relief, fully aware of the possibility we were bathing in other’s filth. We couldn’t care less…basking in the pleasantry of the heat emanating from the water. A sea of smiles surrounded us from every angle as we rested in the comfort, forcing ourselves to endure even the hottest of springs before eventually retreating to our room for the evening. Steam permeated into the crisp air from our warm-blooded bodies as we navigated the quiet sidewalks, finding pure gratitude for the absence of chills accompanying our return.

We awoke the following morning to sunny skies and birds chirping outside our windows. With the sun shining, we decided to embark on a downhill mountain bike journey along a winding road full of incredible views of waterfalls around nearly every bend. I feel the need to admit, this was my kind of bicycling! Pushing myself to pedal uphill relentlessly was as welcome as my first bi-sexual encounter (not that I’m judging). Yet, cruising downhill and barely breaking a sweat under the intense sunlight offered a perfectly pleasant experience, eventually stopping while taking notice of a long steel cable stretching across a wide gorge in the mountains.

Our adventurous nature couldn’t be suppressed, quickly submitting to our willingness to sense the adrenaline coursing through our veins. We parked our bikes, securing them to the nearest tree before venturing to the spot of initiation. The large cage hung lifelessly in front of us, enticing our entry. We paid the miniscule cost (a whopping $1 per person) for enjoying such a rare experience, stepping into the wavering enclosure and placing our faith in its strength as we watched others step onto the small platform. I gazed out into the open air abyss, wondering if we had ignored our better judgment.

Slowly we glided across the ravine, finally resting on the sanctity of the other side. A short pause was enjoyed before being pulled across the massive drop. Without warning, our simple cart halted abruptly, much to the dismay of the passengers. We hung lifelessly, staring down hundreds of feet between the mountains. We stared into one another’s eyes with caution, praying we would resume our process back to where we had started. The seconds that passed seemed to transition to hours, forcing each of us in the cart to clench our backsides with anxiety induced pucker power. “Oh my God,” I whispered to Jessie. I hope we keep moving soon.

The pause in our journey meant to allow us breathtaking views had allowed appreciation for a short moment before realizing the truth of possibilities as we hung suspended over death-defying heights. The pulley reeling us from certain fate resumed, inspiring a sigh of relief amongst our group. We stopped at the safety of the other side once again, grateful to step onto solid ground once again. Our fear of heights had been “overcome” momentarily, wondering if we had dodged a bullet.

Luckily we had periled a trip others had embarked on. Small trucks with the capability of delivering us back to the safety of town waited for us outside of the vantage point most tourists chose as a stopping point. We hoisted our bikes with the driver onto the truck and climbed into the bed, grinning and shaking our heads. “Oh the risks we take while traveling…” I whispered to Jessie. “My heart is still racing…”