Three Days Alone in Cajas National Park

I balance four factors when choosing hiking spots in the Andes: scenery, solitude, hikeability without a guide, and accessibility by public transportation.

The goal is not to find a perfect 10 on all criteria because such places do not exist. For example, a place with spectacular views and easy access by public transportation will be crowded and lacking in solitude. Popular places are popular for a reason.

A small gray backpacking tent beside a lagoon in Cajas National Park, surrounded by tussock grass beneath a sky filled with clouds — Camping beside one of Cajas's lagoons.

The goal is balancing and maximizing the criteria. Cajas National Park in Ecuador gets this balance right. It delivers unrivaled solitude with great, but not spectacular, scenery. Hikers can easily access the park via a direct bus from Cuenca, and no guide is needed, depending on the hiker.

A stream winding through a treeless valley in Cajas National Park, with cattle grazing along its banks and cloud-covered ridges behind — Typical Cajas scenery: rolling treeless hills stitched together by streams and ponds.

Let’s talk about its selling point first: the solitude. I did not see a single person once I left the trailhead and entered the backcountry. Not one person in three days.

There is a lightness in the soul when you know no one is within yelling distance—when you know you have nature to yourself. The land is laid bare, appearing as a personalized gift just for you.

Nights alone in Cajas are especially peaceful. You set up your tent by an emerald lagoon and know that the lagoon is yours for the evening. Although the temperature dips to the low 40s due to the altitude, you can still sit outside your tent at night, beside the lagoon, and admire the thousands of stars shining above.

A lagoon in Cajas National Park at night, lit by moonlight under a sky full of stars, with the surrounding hills mirrored in the still water — A moonlit night beside one of the lagoons. The water was still enough to hold a near-perfect reflection of the surrounding hills.

You feel the grandness of the universe in the stars and the beauty of this world in the lagoon. These feelings are amplified knowing it’s all for you and you don’t have to share.

The park offered the most solitude I have experienced in the Andes. This alone makes it one of my favorite places.

A star-filled night sky and faint Milky Way above a dark mountain ridge in Cajas National Park, with clouds drifting in from the right — What people mean when they say 'Camping under the stars.'

The most important criterion for many is scenery, and this is where Cajas lags. That said, it is a beautiful place. It’s just not jaw-dropping.

The mountains lack the steep faces and granite outcrops found throughout the Andes. There are no snow-capped peaks. You look up at the surrounding mountains and think, “I could walk up that.”

A paved road winding through rocky, grass-covered hills dotted with small lagoons in Cajas National Park under heavy clouds — The Cuenca–Molleturo–El Empalme highway cutting through the park.

Cajas’s stars are the hundreds of emerald lagoons dotting the landscape. The lagoons are symmetrical and smooth around the edges, evenly spaced apart, and deliberately mixed between large and small. It’s as if someone handcrafted each one to perfectly fit its environment.

A large lagoon in Cajas National Park at golden hour, its surface rippled by wind, with tussock grass in the foreground and low sun lighting the hills on the far shore — Late afternoon light on one of the larger lagoons. The smooth, even shoreline is typical of the park.

More beautiful lagoons exist in the Andes, but not in this quantity. The hundreds of lagoons all fit together in a system of interconnected streams and valleys; a system of hundreds of hearts beating in unison. A hike into the park’s backcountry becomes a tour of this ecosystem and how it all holds together.

Another of the park’s distinct features is its lack of trees. Most of the ground is covered in soft moss or grass, with the occasional patch of waist-high shrubs adding variety. The moss makes the rolling mountains pop with a light green, as if you are looking out on an expansive Chia Pet.

A lagoon bordered by a vivid green carpet of wetland plants and treeless hills beneath a blue, cloud-filled sky in Cajas National Park — Yet another pristine blue lagoon hidden deep in the park.

Conveniently, this ecosystem is directly accessible by public transportation from Cuenca, Ecuador. The bus from Cuenca to Guayaquil runs directly to the Cajas visitor center and takes around two hours. You can get off at the visitor center and immediately head into the backcountry.

I previously said that you can hike Cajas without a guide. To ensure no one runs with this statement too freely, and to guard against being the reason a hiker ends their trip in tragedy, let me add caveats.

A deep blue lagoon surrounded by golden tussock grass, rocks, and rounded mountains beneath a bright blue sky in Cajas National Park — Yes, they really are everywhere.

Trails are sparsely marked and splinter continuously. A map might show a clear trail. “Perfect,” you are deceived into thinking, “Easy hike down to the lagoon.”

The reality, however, is that such trails frequently fade out before reemerging, and randomly branch to dead ends. To create further confusion, you do not know if a dead end is the termination of a spurious trail or the main trail fading for a section before triumphantly reappearing.

Several lagoons scattered among rounded brown-green hills, with a jagged mountain ridge in the distance beneath low clouds in Cajas National Park — Looking down on the mossy and soggy landscape.

It is as if someone took an eraser to the original and impeccable trail system, randomly removed sections of some trails, and then flipped the pencil over to draw spurious routes off other trails.

The disappearing trails are primarily due to moss, which does not wear away from repeated steps like grass. Trails in Cajas die when they hit a patch of moss, only to reemerge on the other side when the ground reverts to grass.

A lone hiker standing beside a small gray tent on the grassy shore of a broad lagoon, with distant peaks lit by evening sun in Cajas National Park — Solitude.

All this is to say that you need to be comfortable hiking from a topo map and GPS. You will turn to them every time a trail splinters or fades out.

A compass is also a necessary backup. The Cuenca–Molleturo–El Empalme highway (E582) runs east to west through the park and provides a fail-safe backstop if you lose your GPS. If you are hiking north of the highway, navigate with your compass south until you hit the road. If you’re hiking south, just head north.

Narrow streams winding through bright green wetlands into a broad mountain lagoon under dark clouds in Cajas National Park — Streams act as veins, connecting and replenishing the lagoons.

Getting lost is the park’s principal danger when hiking solo without a guide. There are no dangerous or technical sections and no steep mountain passes or slippery scree that could send you tumbling down a mountain. Just don’t get lost and you will be OK.

Ironically, the boggy terrain and ill-marked paths are positives by nature of being negatives. They keep inexperienced hikers at bay, preserving solitude and isolation, which is Cajas’s prime attraction. Well, that and the lagoons.