A few days ago I began a new journey here: writing about climbing each of the 48 mountains in New Hampshire that are at least 4000 feet tall and, each time, reflecting a bit on the journey since I joined Peace Corps, 30 years ago: on development, social justice, conflict, experiences along the way, etc. Over the next months, 47 more posts.
The second of the 48 peaks that I summited was Mt Field, which is just south of Mt Tom. (My hike up Mt Tom was described in the first post of this series.) I went up both Tom and Field on 10 May 2016, leaving from Crawford Depot, as you can see on the map:
I had planned to continue on to Mt Willey, another 1.4 mi from Field, but once I was on top of Field, it felt more prudent to give myself as much time as possible to get back down to Crawford Notch; walking along the ice was bad enough, but descending steeply was going to be a challenge.
So I will get up Mt Willey on another hike!
Neither of these photos show the ice, sadly, but the descent turned out to be every bit as challenging as feared: I broke my walking pole, and wrenched my shoulder hanging on to a tree when my feet came out from underneath me. It’s still sore as I write this.
I made sure to prepare better for the next few climbs, until I was 100% sure that the snow and ice was gone.
In my last post, I mentioned that I joined the Peace Corps on Valentine’s Day, 1984, when I flew from Boston to Miami to begin two years of service in Ecuador. I described Peace Corps training briefly in the last post…
Once I arrived at my posting, in Azogues, capital of Cañar province, I began to oversee the construction of two water projects – in Cochancay (in the lowland area of Cañar province, near La Troncal), and El Tambo, in the highlands. I was very lucky that I was the only gringo in the province (at least for my first year), and the only Project Engineer other than the provincial head. So I had a lot to do, lots of responsibility.
Long-time readers of this blog may remember that I wrote about El Tambo two years ago – the tragic story of Noemi Ávarez Quillay, who had died in 2014 while trying to reach the United States. She had lived near El Tambo. I was very disturbed to read that,“…in Noemi’s hometown there are clues about the forces at work in her story. In the district of El Tambo in Cañar province, her maternal grandparents, Mr. Quillay, 57, and María Jesús Guamán, 59, live in an adobe home with no running water…” Either the water system we built hadn’t lasted, or Noemi lived “in the district” but outside the area served by the system…
But back in 1984, one of the most interesting parts of this project, for me, was that the water source was far away from town (8.8km): a spectacular lake (Culebrillas) with a remote Incan ruin on its banks. The work crew started by building the captation weir near the lake; they had diverted the Culebrillas river while they built the weir. From there they worked back down towards town, digging a 1m trench, laying and gluing the PVC pipes, and then covering it all up again.
For many weeks I visited the work site by driving up near the lake and walking several kilometers; later, as they approached El Tambo, it was easier to walk up from town. I vividly recall wondering at the spectacular beauty of the Andes mountains, that I was hiking in such amazing landscape, and “working”!
We built a simple treatment plant, with a chlorination hut, two slow sand filters, a 100m3 (26,000 gal) water storage tank, over 8km of tubing in the town itself, and 356 household connections.
Here are a few photos of the El Tambo project:
While technically similar (gravity-flow), the Cochancay project was quite different, mainly because it was on the coast while El Tambo was in the highlands. In those days at least, the culture of coastal Ecuador was very Caribbean, exuberant and loud, extroverted and busy. El Tambo was primarily indigenous, introverted and sombre. Stereotypes, of course, but that’s how it felt.
The captation for the Cochancay system was in the jungle, a few kilometers the road from town. No scenic hiking in the Andes for me on this project! Driving to Cochancay was always a bit scary, as we dropped down from 2500m above sea level almost to sea level, and there was almost always heavy fog on the way down. I saw more than one terrible accident on that road (which was the main highway between Cuenca and Guayaquil).
Here again we built a simple treatment plant, with a chlorination hut, two slow sand filters, a 100m3 water storage tank, over 7km of tubing in the town itself, and 361 household connections. These two projects were of very similar sizes; one difference was that here in Cochancay, with a much warmer climate, the system was designed to provide 50% more water per person than in El Tambo, up high in the cooler mountains.
Here are a few photos of the Cochancay project:
Here I’ve written about helping to bring potable water to two rural communities – and, in fact, in 1990 only 62% of rural Ecuadoreans had access to improved water sources. So the work we were doing in El Tambo and Cochancay was urgent and important.
But one common thread of these posts will be how much things have changed – mostly for the better – since I began this journey. In this sense, then, the world has changed: by 2010, nearly 90% of Ecuadoreans living in rural areas had access to improved water sources.
More on that theme – how much the world has changed – in future posts!
But first, what did I learn from El Tambo and Cochancay? Many things – about the importance of community organization. About how important it was to charge a nominal fee for water, and increasing marginal costs for more use, to encourage conservation. And I learned a lot of Cañari Spanish!
But from an engineering point of view, I was also learning. As a “mechanical” engineer, this was really the first time I had built such large concrete structures, and the two 100m3 tanks we built in El Tambo and Cochancay seemed way over-designed.
In my next post, covering my hike up Flume Mountain, I will tell the story of the water system we built in San Rafael – a village across the valley from El Tambo, affected by water-born typhoid, where we built Ecuador’s first ferrocement water tank. A 70% reduction in cost when compared with the reinforced concrete tanks we built in El Tambo and Conchancay. And we designed and built a Cretan Sail windmill to pump water for the system.
Here are links to blogs in this series. Eventually there will be 48 articles, each one about climbing one of New Hampshire’s 4000-footers, and also reflecting on a career in international development:
- Mt Tom (1) – A New Journey;
- Mt Field (2) – Potable Water in Ecuador;
- Mt Moosilauke (3) – A Water System for San Rafael (part 1);
- Mt Flume (4) – A Windmill for San Rafael (part 2);
- Mt Liberty (5) – Onward to Colombia, Plan International in Tuluá;
- Mt Osceola (6) – Three Years in Tuluá;
- East Osceola (7) – Potable Water for Cienegueta;
- Mt Passaconaway (8) – The South America Regional Office;
- Mt Whiteface (9) – Empowerment!;
- North Tripyramid (10) – Total Quality Management for Plan International;
- Middle Tripyramid (11) – To International Headquarters!;
- North Kinsman (12) – Fighting Fragmentation and Building Unity: New Program Goals and Principles for Plan International;
- South Kinsman (13) – A Growth Plan for Plan International;
- Mt Carrigain (14) – Restructuring Plan International;
- Mt Eisenhower (15) – A Guest Blog: Max van der Schalk Reflects on 5 Years at Plan’s International Headquarters;
- Mt Pierce (16) – Four Years At Plan’s International Headquarters;
- Mt Hancock (17) – Hanoi, 1998;
- South Hancock (18) – Plan’s Team in Viet Nam (1998-2002);
- Wildcat “D” Peak (19) – Plan’s Work in Viet Nam;
- Wildcat Mountain (20) – The Large Grants Implementation Unit in Viet Nam;
- Middle Carter (21) – Things Had Changed.