June 9th. Tucked between steep green mountains and perched on the edge of the Amazon basin, Baños is a little town with a big reputation—for hot springs, waterfalls, and just about every adventure sport you can think of. It feels more jungle like than highlands, with thick mist rolling through the valley in the mornings and clouds clinging to the cliffs.
It’s named after the thermal baths fed by the nearby volcano where you can soak in steamy pools with views of waterfalls tumbling down the cliffs above you. The town itself is compact and full of life—plenty of hostels, juice bars, tour offices, and street vendors selling sugarcane juice and melcocha (the sticky, hand-pulled taffy that gets slapped around shop doorways all day long). Of course we brought some, it’s delicious!
Abby’s house
Our camp for two nights was tucked down an impossibly steep driveway with three sketchy switchbacks just to reach the bottom. Private property, perfectly quiet, and green all around—ideal for camping, but not exactly big-rig friendly. When we arrived, two other campers were already there: a van from Spain that we’d spotted back in Colombia, and a couple traveling in a teeny-tiny camper trailer.
We spent our first afternoon exploring town, which is packed with tourist shops, restaurants selling grilled rotisary guinea pigs and adventure tour operators on every corner. While Tim and Jaxon are keen to try the guinea pig. Charley and I not so much.
We were more interested in something a bit more our speed—whitewater rafting on the Pastaza River.
Rafting the Rastaza river
June 10th. The next morning our camp host, Carmen, not Abby, kindly dropped us off at the GeoTours office at 9 a.m. Since we were the only ones booked that morning, we had the raft to ourselves. A minibus drove us about 35 minutes downriver, where we got fitted for wetsuits, helmets, and shoes, then continued another 10 minutes to the put-in point. After a short safety briefing, we were on the river with William, our English-speaking guide, and Eric, the photographer following us by kayak.
I’ve always wanted to try rafting. We paddled for about 75 minutes, covering 15 km of the Pastaza, rated as Class III+. It was perfect. Fast enough to get the heart racing, but not scary. We had so much fun—I’ll let the photos tell the rest of that story.
pailon del diablo
Back in town, we climbed back up to the main road leading back down river. We wanted to explore some of the Ruta de las Cascadas, which winds down the canyon toward the Amazon. Lined with zip lines, cable cars, and one waterfall after another. The most impressive by far is Pailón del Diablo on the Green River. A thundering wall of water ripping through a narrow rock chute with bone-shaking force. The kind of waterfall where, if you fell in, your clothes might be the only thing that makes it out.
There are two entrances, each with its own path and ticket booth. We visited both sides (entry was $5 total per person), and it was worth every cent. On the downhill side, a concrete walkway hugs the cliff face, and you can crawl through tunnels behind the roaring curtain of water. The sound and vibration of it—completely wild. Locals told us the water level was “medium” that day, and that sometimes the volume is so high they have to close the path for safety. Hard to imagine it any stronger than it already was.
That night we free-camped next to a French family we’d bumped into days earlier in Cotopaxi National Park. Jaxon made fast friends with their friendly dogs, especially the skinny ones—he always shares his food. It was a quiet night. The next morning, we hiked down to a second waterfall before the crowds arrived. We always try to go early when we can—there’s something magical about having these places to ourselves, even if just for a little while.
We debated continuing on into the Amazon basin, but the forecast called for solid rain all week. Hard pass. Instead, we’ve pointed Bruce uphill again—heading to Chimborazo National Park. Time to tackle another volcano…
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