I grew up in the Ecuadorian countryside. My first memories are from around 1990, when my family and I were living on a 28-hectare farm, a pioneering conservation project in the tropical rainforest.
Often, I would sit with my sister on the front steps of our house, gazing at the “blue mountains”. It was my father who coined that phrase, after their distinctive colouration. Decades later, while studying field biology at university, I learned that these were the subtropical Andes. Specifically, the Abitahua Protected Forest of the Llanganates Sangay Ecological Corridor, a transition area (also known as an ecotone) that connects the eastern slopes of the Ecuadorian Andes with the Amazonian lowlands.
At home, several stories and legends were told about these mythical mountains. Many have tried to navigate them, inspired by tales of pre- and post-Inca treasure, as well as their fauna and flora. As a young man, I was told that few people had succeeded in exploring the mountains, or at least had told me of their experiences of doing so.
After the legions of explorers, several biologists and researchers went into the jungle – and discovered one of the greatest areas of biodiversity on the planet. The territory’s biogeographic characteristics have given rise to a great variety of habitat types and microclimates. It boasts a very high endemism of species, as well as abundant bodies of water: springs, streams and rivers that descend through the foothills.
For this reason, the area is currently considered a biodiversity hotspot, one of five of its kind in Ecuador, along with the Galapagos Islands, the Equatorial Choro, the Cuyabeno Lagoons and Yasuní National Park. In 2002, the WWF declared the ecological corridor a ‘Gift to the Earth’, the highest award that the organisation gives to conservation projects.
The mysterious blue mountains of my childhood turned out to be a treasure of biodiversity for the whole world.
