Hunting Giant Frogs -- Part Two

All rivers run to the Amazon

We left the high Cajas behind, dropping down the main road until we reached a tiny lane paved with rough cobbles. This kidney massager of a driveway was the path to Lake Zorrochucho, or, Laguna Llavinco (Take your pick). Three kilometers of butt-bangin brought us to yet another entrance to Parque Nacional Cajas.

Nestled in a U-shaped glacial valley, the lake is tucked into the eastern edge of the Parque. Even though we were still at around 10,000 foot elevation, the air felt nice and chewy. And wet, the air felt wet. The afternoon rain, a normal weather feature for these parts, was closing in on us. What better place to find the elusive Giant Andean Frog than an isolated lake in a national park on a rainy afternoon?

The old brewery

At the near end of the lake stand the ruins of an old brewery. The brewery was situated here to take advantage of the pristine waters that flow into the lake from the Caja. This lake is the source of the Tomebamba river, which runs right past my digs in Cuenca, two thousand feet down the valley. From there, the Tomebamba, like all the other rivers in this valley, makes the long journey to the Amazon.

What's left of the brewery

The brewery is the reason for the cobbled lane. Beer wagons used to haul the Pilsner from the lakeside brewery and into the town of Cuenca. The brewery, started by a German family, has been shut down for decades, abandoned to fall into ruin. Alpaca are often seen grazing on the grounds, but they were absent this day. Perhaps the Giant Frogs had scared them off.

Angel's Trumpet

Growing along the edge of the lake was one of the seven varieties of Brugmansia, or Angel's Trumpet. The source of scopolamine, among other drugs, the blossoms of the Angel's Trumpet are used for all sorts of things. The seeds of the blossoms are dried into a powder, which is reputed to have the power to render a person compliant. Think of it as a zombie drug. There are wildly differing accounts as to the effects of drugging someone with scopolamine. It is real enough, however, to cause law enforcement and travel advisory websites to list it as one of the dangers of traveling in South America. 

The Lake, the Walkway, but no damn Frogs

As we reached the far end of the lake, the rain reached us. The clouds pushed down to tops of the mountains, cloaking the entire valley in a wet, gauzy light. Running up the far shore of the lake is a covered walkway. We stumped along the walkway, grateful for the cover and the brilliant array of red and green bromeliads. The day had started as a brilliant, sunny, and breathless hike. It was finishing as a squishy, splashy, slippery hike.

Reaching the dam at the low end of the lake, we had almost completed our circumnavigation. And still no Giant Frogs. This was our last chance. We peered across the reedy lake surface, under bushes, and next to likely-looking rocks. Alas, Alack, there were simply no Giant Frogs to be found. We didn't even see any normal-sized amphibians.

Wait! What was that?

Nope, no Giant Frogs. I could have felt short-changed, a victim of a wildly inaccurate hoax, but I didn't. It was a wonderful hiking day, a day full of grand vistas, crazy weather, weird plants, and great camaraderie. But I remain hopeful that the Giant Frogs exist. The world needs huge amphibians of unusual size (HAUS) if for no other reason than to go on wild-froggy chases looking for them.

Ah well, such is the life of the traveler. Be well, stay curious, and Ciao for Now!

PS: This still seems like it could be real, right?!?!?