I set out on this trek in September 2023, after over three years of Covid-era wanderlust for it. Given the amount of time I had to research, I truly did read every resource I could find on the subject. Many describe this hike as beautiful, but treacherous. Many write of experiences like being attacked by aggressive dogs, getting robbed, and getting lost as inevitable - however, none of these things happened to me.
Obviously, everyone’s experiences can and will be different, so I will not speak ill of the blogs that I read, nor argue that my experience is more likely to be your experience. Instead, I want to give another (seemingly uncommon) perspective: I completed the Quilotoa Loop as a solo young woman, and I did not find it to be as daunting or as dangerous as many other blogs make it out to be.
In fact, I was so afraid of what I had read that I carried a stick and rocks to fend off the dogs (not needed), two spare phones in case of theft (not needed), and an overabundance of battery packs, food, water, and warm clothing in the event I got truly lost and did not make it to the hostel by nightfall (absolutely not needed). One could argue that it never hurts to be too prepared, and maybe it was just luck that I had such a problem-free experience. However, on a path this isolated at such high altitudes, I think carrying so much unnecessary weight was a greater risk to my safety than any of the instances that I was trying to prevent would have been.
Instead, here is what I wish the blogs would have said:
Worrying too much about getting lost will probably make you get lost. As stated earlier, I prepared to get lost, because nearly every blog warned of unmarked and incorrect trails. However, I personally found the route intuitive. There were signposts everywhere you would want to see one - before bridges, at intersections, before sharp turns - and I was only tempted to take the wrong path when I relied too much on my GPS. It is true that there will be times the GPS tells you to turn and there is no path there, or even more anxiety-inducing, you receive a push notification that you’re on the WRONG path. However, every time this happened, I would keep following the marked trail and within a few minutes I would be back in sync with my GPS. If you are afraid of getting lost, as I was, you will definitely want to download an offline map as a backup. However, relying on it will make you more likely to get lost. Instead, use it to understand your general route - Are you going through the valley, or along the ridge? Are you veering left, or right? - and then put it away and look around! More than likely, you will see the red and yellow blazes, or a path well-trodden with bootprints.
Stay a few extra nights in the villages, especially Isinlivi! Just a few hundred meters from the cluster of hostels in Isinlivi, there is a gorgeous cross overlooking a valley, where the mountains change colors as the sun sets. Each night, I was the only one there. I also attended a church service, toured a farm, sat in my hostel’s jacuzzi, and hiked to a local market. Most blogs describe staying an extra day or two in the villages as an afterthought, only to be recommended if you think you will need a break from the hike. Not only do I recommend you stay, I actually recommend you do not even use it as a break from hiking! There are so many gorgeous day hikes to try, some of which are arguably even prettier than the Quilotoa Loop itself.
Yes, you will likely feel safe as a young woman alone. The Ecuadorian highlands are very rural, and most days, I did not see anyone at all until I arrived at the next village. Everyone I interacted with was incredibly kind, and even the markets were calm and organized. For anyone worried about safety, I truly cannot speak enough about how respected I felt at all stages of the trek.
Rethink public buses if time is of the essence. I realized upon arrival in Ecuador that most tourists there are on months-long holidays, while I was not. Obviously, how you get around is personal preference, but keep in mind when reading blog posts that many people travel South America with far more time than you may have. In addition, bus schedules were tough to find, and some only operated once per day. Not wanting to feel rushed on my hike or risk wasting an entire day in transit, I found it far more convenient to just take a day tour from Quito to Quilotoa, and stay behind after the tour.
I do not regret doing the reverse route. Typically, people start their trek in Sigchos and end in Quilotoa so they are saving the most beautiful part for last. To hike the opposite direction is called the "reverse route," and I did this for a few reasons. For one, starting in Quilotoa guarantees that you will get to see the crater in the morning when the sun is high and the chance of thunderstorms is low. I also found the transportation much easier this way, as noted above. Additionally, while I would not say that the reverse route is any easier because the entire trek features elevation gains and losses, I did get to descend rather than climb the infamously steep crater. While I do love a challenge, I did not want to push my limits too much given that it was my first solo hike at high altitude. Best of all, because I was the only one in my hostels hiking in reverse, I got to enjoy a truly serene hike!
Honestly, this trek has been one of the most enriching experiences of my life, and I hope that my positive experience will help to balance out some of the negative stories others have written about online. If you have a specific question about my trip, please feel free to ask!