{"id":2198,"date":"2026-02-23T00:26:09","date_gmt":"2026-02-23T00:26:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/spokesandshoes.com\/wordpress\/?p=2198"},"modified":"2026-02-23T00:26:11","modified_gmt":"2026-02-23T00:26:11","slug":"215-restaurante-el-turismo-to-gualaceo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/spokesandshoes.com\/wordpress\/2026\/02\/215-restaurante-el-turismo-to-gualaceo\/","title":{"rendered":"#215 Restaurante el tur\u00edsmo to Gualaceo"},"content":{"rendered":"
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#215 Restaurante el tur\u00edsmo to Gualaceo<\/h1>\n
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Intro<\/h3>\n

Day 215 dawned with a familiar crispness, deep within the Andean embrace of Ecuador. My legs felt surprisingly fresh, a quiet hum of anticipation building for the significant climb ahead. There was a clear motivation to tackle today’s elevation, a feeling of readiness for whatever the mountains might present.<\/p>\n

Ride Overview<\/h3>\n

The ride from Restaurante el tur\u00edsmo to Gualaceo covered 40.85 kilometers, but the numbers tell only part of the story. A formidable 1230 meters of elevation gain was countered by 1359 meters of descent. The entire route was paved, a welcome consistency, though the weather proved to be a shifting tapestry, moving from partly cloudy skies to dense fog and drizzle at altitude, before clearing again for the afternoon. My average speed of 9.66 km\/h reflects the steady, deliberate pace required for such a climb.<\/p>\n

Highlights<\/h3>\n

Early on, an 800-meter hiking path beckoned off the main road, leading to the serene Laguna Mailas. Despite a light drizzle beginning to fall, I made the short trek, navigating sections of deep mud and, thankfully, stable wooden boardwalks \u2013 a welcome relief after yesterday’s slippery planks<\/em>. At the water’s edge, I quickly devoured my takeaway prawn omelette, rice, and plantain, capturing a few photos before the rain could truly settle in, then retreated to the main road.<\/p>\n

The first half of the day was a sustained effort: a 15-kilometer climb gaining nearly 1200 vertical meters. I found a good rhythm, stopping frequently to catch my breath and simply absorb the unfolding vistas. Around four kilometers from the summit, a handful of nuts and raisins, along with a peanut butter roll, provided the perfect internal fuel. Reaching the highest point at 2 p.m. felt like a genuine accomplishment; a car even stopped to offer me bread, which I politely declined, my bags already heavy with provisions.<\/p>\n

Then came the reward: 24 kilometers of pure downhill on a perfectly paved road. It was an absolute joy, the wind whistling past as the views expanded with every turn. At the top, I’d been bundled in gloves, rain jacket, and trousers, even with sandals, to ward off the cold drizzle. But as I descended, the weather softened, and I shed layers, feeling the warmth of the sun gradually return. Arriving in Gualaceo before sunset, I found a lovely plaza, framed by colonial-style buildings and a beautifully lit church. Settling onto a bench, I watched the town come alive, finishing the leftovers from Laguna Mailas and soaking in the last golden rays of the day.<\/p>\n

Lowlights<\/h3>\n

It feels almost ungrateful to complain about the weather, given that 90% of both the uphill and downhill was dry. However, the stretch a couple of kilometers before and after the highest point was dominated by thick fog and a persistent drizzle. It was a real shame to miss out on the sweeping views that I knew must be hidden just beyond the grey curtain.<\/em><\/p>\n

Later, the only minor frustration of the day emerged in my hotel room at the Hotel Gualaceo. The sole power outlet was tucked awkwardly behind the television, which sat on a pedestal near the ceiling. My charger plug, being quite large, simply wouldn’t fit in the tight space between the TV and the wall.<\/p>\n

Overnight<\/h3>\n

I settled into the Hotel Gualaceo for the night, a comfortable haven after a day of significant physical exertion. Its location, right in the heart of the charming town, felt like a small reward in itself. The promise of a warm bed and a quiet night was exactly what I needed.<\/p>\n

Reflection<\/h3>\n

Today confirmed something fundamental about this journey: the profound satisfaction that comes from meeting a physical challenge head-on, especially when rewarded by moments of unexpected beauty. Managing that long climb, finding my rhythm, and then being gifted such a glorious descent, felt like a perfect balance. It reiterated that even when the weather is less than ideal, the effort itself holds its own quiet reward<\/em>, and the simple act of arriving, tired but content, into a new town, is always a profound pleasure.<\/p>\n<\/section>\n

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Route summary<\/h2>\n