DAY 13: "Did you go out partying for Halloween last night?" a Danish blonde asked me in the back of a truck at 8:03 in the morning. She saw that I looked pretty exhausted.

"Yup," I answered all groggy-eyed, waiting for my coffee to kick in. "And you?"

"No."

"Ah, you're smart."

And so began my trip to Cotopaxi, the highest active volcano in the world, just 90 minutes south of Quito by car.

While climbing to the peak of Cotopaxi is a popular to-do for many travelers, I wasn't really interested in the inevitable altitude sickness of it. Instead, I had signed up for a day trip with the Biking Dutchman, a mountain bike tour group based out of GringoLand, recommended to me by a fellow member of South American Explorers. Despite its name and location, the tour guide was Latino.

Originally I signed up for a two-day trip, but four people were needed and I was the only one registered. I switched over to the one-day and lucked out with three Danish girls, Lisa, Dort and Luisa, each in Ecuador on a work visa. However, our little group of four was unexpectedly joined by a group of 24 British people in a big volunteer-tour group, with their own bus that we always had to wait up for.

We drove southbound on the PanAmericana highway to the park entrance to pay our park fees. From there we drove up the volcano on a twisty and bumpy road comprised of volcanic rock and soil, passed trees and wild horses. It would have been an American SUV owner's dream if s/he ever left the suburbs.

We parked at a parking area at about 14,800 ft. above sea level, just a couple hundred meters short of the snow line. It was the vantage point of a spectacular view of the Valley of Limpiapungo, the common countryside in between three other active volcanos. We unloaded our gear in the frigid air while guys in ATVs and dirt bikes had a field day nearby. Then we geared up in helmets and enough safety gear to protect our bodies from falling, or a freak occurance involving a sudden barrage of hockey pucks.

Tired of waiting for all the Brits to get their stuff together, our guide Fernando let the four of us go ahead to the rendezvous point. It got warmer and warmer as we descended down the slope of the volcano -- clenching our hand brakes the whole way -- down a twisty path of loose volcanic rock and soil. The bumpy ride could have made any guy feel like his testicles were in a paint stirring machine at the Home Depot.

At the first rendezvous point, we waited for all the Brits to come on down. Their ages varied from young to really old, so it took quite some time. Luisa complained that it wasn't fair that we paid the same amount as other tourists who didn't have to deal with all the waiting, and we all decided that we'd complain back at the office back in Quito.

YOU KNOW WHEN YOU FIRST START PLAYING a racing video game and you always start in the pole position, but gradually end up in 16th place because all the computer-controlled cars are better than you? Well that's how it was with me en route to the second rendezvous point, which was only about fifteen minutes away on level ground. I blame the fact that my gears were messed up and my chain fell off at one point, and the one time my shoelaces got caught in the main cog like spaghetti wrapped around a fork. It didn't really matter to me because I was surrounded in a land reminiscent of Tolkien's/Jackson's Middle Earth. I eventually caught up with the rest for lunch near a creek.

I switched bikes for the last leg of the day. We traveled like Hobbits on bicycles on an undulating path through the Valley of Limpiapungo, passed cows and kids riding on mules. It had been the most amazing scenery I had seen on my Global Trip so far.

I WAS EXHAUSTED WHEN I GOT HOME in Quito, and Blanca made me a refreshing juice. I say "made" because that's the way it has been in Ecuador so far. I don't think the people here believe in buying big half-gallon cartons of juice -- every juice I've had has been made with freshly-squeezed fruits, blended with water and a little sugar. I figured my stomach had already strengthed because I had no reaction to Blanca's latest batch of OJ.

It was a Saturday night but I was too exhausted to go out partying or anything. Instead I vegged out at my new favorite internet cafe around the corner, run by a German guy completely fluent in Spanish. I imagined he was a total computer nerd back in Germany who just got sick of sitting in front of computers all day at home and traveled to Ecuador to sit in front of computers all day in Quito. I swear the guy never leaves the place -- he's the only guy here from 8am to 11pm -- and he just sits at the front desk surfing the web while listening to 80's new wave songs and Cirque du Soleil soundtracks.

After updating The Blog, I just wandered into the hip internet cafe/bar Papaya.net to see who was around, and found Navid on a computer using Yahoo! Messenger next to two guys using the messenger on Gay.com. I think it subconsciously inspired us to go across the street to Zocalo, a trendy bar with ambigously gay chi-chi drinks. Navid and I had a midnight snack and a nightcap before I went back home and slept for a nice ten hours.