Zacatecas Part 5: Ancient ruins of La Quemada

La Quemada, enigma of the north. One of my goals during our stay in Zacatecas was to visit La (ciudad) Quemada, which in Spanish means "the burnt city." This refers to a massive fire, traces of which were found by early Spanish visitors to the area. Carole and I, along with our Irish and German friends Denis, Julika, and Verena, visited the La Quemada site on our last full day in Zacatecas. La Quemada lies about 25 miles (approximately 56 kilometers) southwest of Zacatecas, about 1/2 way between Malpaso and Villanueva. From Zacatecas' El Centro, the trip takes about 40 minutes one way.

Above, Carole walks along one of the broad steps leading from a lower level of the ruins to the palace complex above on the ridge. The steps were perhaps 4 feet wide and 30 feet long, which suggests an area created for grand processions. The day was gorgeous and sunny, with fluffy white clouds punctuating a deep blue sky. In the distance lies a shining lake created by damming the Malpaso river.

Map of La Quemada ruins. The map above shows La Quemada strung out along a ridge that rises in a south to north axis about 1/2 mile long (see the map orientation). For a satellite photo of the site, click here. In the photo above, the dark green square on the left is the Chamber of Columns. Immediately above the Chamber of Columns is a lighter green square that is a large plaza. Just to the right of the plaza is the long slender rectangle of the Ball Court. At the right end of the Ball Court is the small square representing the Votive Pyramid. Above the Votive Pyramid, the main complex of rooms, terraces, plazas and small pyramids rises to the top of the ridge. Off to the far right is a defensive bastion built in the late stages of occupation. Apparently, the people of La Quemada were under attack in this period. Some archaeologists believe the traces of fire found by the early Spanish, and still evident in some places, indicate a violent end to the life of the city.

The Chamber of Columns is the first ruin you encounter. To the right of the Chamber, you can see the grassy plaza area. The Chamber of Columns sits on the first and lowest of a rising series of plateaus at the extreme south end of the ruins. The telephoto shot above was taken from the top of the ridge, looking toward the southeast. You can see the cultivated areas in the photo just above the Chamber. These were probably also cultivated in early times. La Quemada lies in a long, wide valley extending southwest from Zacatecas. The valley is watered by the Malpaso river, the damming of which has created a large lake just to the east of the ruins, which you can see in the first photo of this posting. The general area is fairly dry, but when irrigated by the river, it has been agriculturally productive for thousands of years. Early crops included maize, beans, squash, maguey, amaranth, tomato, and fruits. Archeological evidence indicates that the farming was done in communal terraces, with water carried up from the river below. In addition cultivated food, the whole area is thick with natural food plants such as the nopal cactus.

Massive columns dot the interior of the great Chamber. The size of this room, with its massive stone columns, is another indication that the area was a major religious/ceremonial center. The earliest settlements in the area were established around 200-300 AD, with the major occupation and building occurring between 500-900 AD. By 1000 AD, the site was abandoned. From at least early Spanish times people have speculated about the people and culture represented here. Early Spaniards, such as Fray Juan de Torquemada in 1615, held that La Quemada corresponded to the legendary Chicostomoc, a place where the Aztecs tarried for 9 years on their way to settling in the Valley of Mexico far to the south. Others have held that the ruins were a northern settlement of the great Empire of Teotihuacan, or perhaps one of the Toltec outposts. Some suggested that the Tarascan Empire of Michoancan may have created a bastion here against marauding Chichimeca nomads. Recent archaeological evidence suggests that the ceremonial center may have local roots, created by the indigenous people of the area for religious and later defensive purposes. No one knows the origins for sure, and La Quemada's position as the only major site for hundreds of miles in every direction gives it an extra aura of mystery.

Rhyolite stone columns rise massively against the sky. In the photo above, I was impressive by the size of these columns. It is hard to say how much taller they were originally, but as you can see from how they tower over me, they were constructed to support a large and very heavy structure. The stone structures were covered by a layer of "barro" (earth) and a vegetable fibre plaster, and then whitewashed with lime. If the whole complex was whitewashed and painted, it must have presented a magnificent sight when approached from afar, as it rose up the ridge from the flat valley against the azure sky.

La Quemada served as the local "Home Depot" for a thousand years. After it was abandoned somewhere between 900-1000 AD, the site was scavenged for building materials for the next 1000 years. This accelerated after the Spanish settled the area in the last half of the 16th Century and looked for easy sources of materials for their towns and haciendas . Approximately 15% of the site was destroyed by these activities, aside from natural deterioration. Above, workers haul cement to stabilize the walls of the Chamber of Columns.

Flowers graced the broad level area of the plaza next to the Chamber of Columns. We visited in late September, just at the end of the rainy season, and wildflowers bloomed everywhere. I haven't been able to identify this lovely little 5-pointed star flower.

Main ceremonial complex looms in the distance. In the photo above, you are looking north from the plaza next to the Chamber of Columns. The ridge along which the main section of terraces and palaces were built rises above the plateau on which the Chamber of Columns sits. The whole area glowed golden in the afternoon sun.

Broad stairway leads from the Ball Court to the main ceremonial complex. The walls lining either side of the Ball Court can be seen at the base of the stairs to the right of the tree at the bottom. There are several great staircases in the complex, all impressively built with flat stones. The lake formed from the Malpaso River shimmers in the distance. Beyond the lake, the highlands on the east side of the Malpaso Valley rise up to a rolling plateau.

View from the top of the ceremonial complex. The complex drops off down the hillside, level by level. Just below are rooms of palaces and ceremonial areas. The next level down, in the center of the photo, has a series of smaller rooms. I speculated that some of these circular and oval rooms may have been storage areas for food or other goods. Below those rooms, in the distance, you can see the Chamber of Columns. To the left of the Chamber, slanting down toward the left side of the photo, is the long Ball Court.

The Ball Court, looking north toward the Votive Pyramid at the far end. Ball courts are features found in major Mesoamerican ruins from Nicaragua to northern Arizona in the US. They were not just sports stadiums, but had major religious and ceremonial significance in various cultures of Mesoamerica for over 3000 years. While the specific rules of the game are unknown, it may have been played somewhat like volleyball or racquet ball, where the aim is to keep the ball in play. In some versions, only the hips could be used to strike the ball. The court's shape of a long, narrow "I" is a characteristic of the Epic Classic period (750-950 AD). Because the Ball Court is placed within the ceremonial complex, it undoubtedly had religious significance and quite possibly was associated with human sacrifice. Numerous polished clay floors have been found under the court, along with evidence of human burials. The walls lining the sides of the Ball Court were originally much higher but the stones were looted over the centuries for building materials.

Life goes on, even in this abandoned ruin. I happened to glance down to see this pair of mating grasshoppers near the Ball Court. Carole calls this "insect porn." Whatever else has happened over the 17oo years or so since humans first settled this area, insects like these have carried on with their lives. The remote ancestors of these grasshoppers may have witnessed great pyramids under construction, heard the screams of human sacrifice, seen the plumes of fire that ended La Quemada, and even hopped over the feet of newly arrived conquistadors. Today they carry on under the close inspection of a visiting Gringo, lending a sense of permanence to a place that has seen innumerable changes.

The Votive Pyramid peeps above a ruined palace. The surrounding plain, dotted with nopal cactus, stretches out to the eastern highlands which rim the Malpaso Valley. There is a sense of vast distances here, and silent open space that I found particularly affecting.

The Votive Pyramid is noted for the unusual steepness of its sloping sides. The Votive Pyramid is the best known structure of La Quemada, probably because it is so photogenic. The original structure was covered by a smooth mud plaster. Over the centuries this washed away revealing the stones and the mud mortar connecting them underneath. At some point the Pyramid began to collapse. The stairway you can see above, on the south side of the Pyramid, used to reach to the top of the structure, but most of it was destroyed in the collapse. Originally, a small temple or altar graced the top of the Pyramid, possibly the site of human sacrifice.

The Ball Court ends at the Votive Temple. One can imagine members of the losing team ascending the steps to the sacrificial altar. The photo was taken from the top of the ceremonial complex, looking southeast.

Wild flowers exuberantly explode from the side of a ruined wall. Another example of the continuity of life, even in a place that experienced disaster and ruin. According to Carole, these may be white marigolds.

The northern bastion, evidence of a desperate defense. Just beyond the top of the hill containing the main complex, the ridge dips and then rises again to another promontory. On top of this was a fortress with steep walls. The fortress ruins can just be seen on the top of the hill. The fortress used the natural stone features like those seen above as part of the defense. Snaking off to the right is a stone walkway connecting the main complex with the bastion. This area was developed very late in La Quemada's history, which suggests that this long-occupied center of agriculture and trade was under attack. Who were the attackers? No one knows, but they were probably the same that ultimately put La Quemada to the torch, giving it a name to replace the one no one now knows.

A road to nowhere. Above you see a telephoto closeup of the stone stairway spiraling around the back of the promontory to the bastion above. The Malpaso Valley stretches off to the north. If the attackers were nomadic Chichimecas coming into the area, they may have arrived from this direction, hence the location of the bastion.

An ancient road complex is a unique feature of La Quemada. Directly below are palace grounds and the remains of another pyramid. This level ends in a steep wall and cliffs just beyond the small ruins running across the top of the photo. These walls and cliffs drop down 150 feet or so to the fields you can see in the upper part of the photo. The dark green of the fields shows densely packed nopal cactus. A close examination of these fields reveals dark lines extending toward the top of the photo, and another veering off toward the upper right corner. These are the remains of ancient roads constructed with stone slabs and clay between 600-900 AD. The roads connect the main ceremonial and defensive complex with more than 200 ancient ruins which were outlying communities. More than 170 kilometers of these ruined roads have been detected, extending throughout the Malpaso Valley. These roads are a unique aspect of La Quemada in pre-Hispanic Mexico, and for centuries survived the traditional ploughs. Unfortunately, modern tractors have begun to obliterate the old roads.

Stairway to heaven. Another set of steep stairways rises up the wall toward the platform containing the palace and small pyramid seen in the previous picture. Vegetation grows through some of the crumbling walls. In their original whitewashed state, these walls would have gleamed splendidly in the bright sun of Zacatecas, broadcasting a message power and prosperity.

A view from below. At the base of the great walls, on the Ball Court level, one can appreciate the immense effort and level of organization needed to build this great complex. With no draft animals, no wheeled vehicles, and no iron tools, it must have taken careful planning, and a highly organized and skilled workforce to create something of this size and magnificence.

This ends Part 5 of my series on Zacatecas. I hope I have been able to share the sense of the awe which inspired me when I first came upon the wonderful ruins of La Quemada. If you ever visit Zacatecas, I strongly encourage you to take time to visit these lovely, lonely ruins.

As always, I appreciate your thoughts, comments, and questions. You can leave them either in the comments section below, or by emailing me directly. If you leave a question in the comments section, please include your email so that I can respond.

Zacatecas Part 4: Fantastic masks of the Rafael Coronel Museum

The Rafael Coronel Museum contains a huge collection of extraordinary masks. Carole has become an aficionado of indigenous Mexican masks, about a dozen of which adorn the walls of our Ajijic home. When she read about the thousands of masks contained in the Zacatecas' Rafael Coronel Museum, she put that on the top of her "must-see" list. The mask above is one of many which depict the natural world. Actual antlers and animal hair were used to heighten the realism of the mask, although I have never seen a deer with such as sinister grin. Since I am publishing this blog post on the eve of both Halloween (Oct. 31) and the Dias de los Muertos (Nov. 1-2), I decided to dedicate it to those two fiestas, closely linked on the calendar, but entirely different in tone, focus, and history. What they share is a delight in scary masks and haunted houses. For days/hours of operation, and fees of the Rafael Coronel Museum, click here.

An ideal location for a haunted house. The Rafael Coronel Museum occupies the ruins of the Convento de San Francisco, built in 1567, the first Franciscan convent in the province of Zacatecas. The construction was authorized by Pedro de Ayala, Bishop of Nueva Galicia (Guadalajara). I shot the photo above from a Teleferico car dangling high in the air on the ride down from La Bufa. The Templo, or church part of the convent, burned down 80 years after the convent was built but was quickly rebuilt in 1648. The Templo is the tall rectangular building on the left side with the white-topped dome. The Ex-Convento is the lower building on the right with the five portales (archways) facing the green lawn.

The Ex-Convento was extremely important to early Franciscan evangelization. The earliest missionary here was Fray Geronimo de Mendoza, who took up residence shortly after the convent was completed. The Convento de San Francisco de Zacatecas was one of the twelve most important of such complexes in the Americas. From here, missionaries fanned out through Northern Mexico and what is now the Southwestern United States. Above, a series of arched passageways seems to lure a visitor into mysterious regions beyond.

Gorgeously lush gardens suddenly appear when ruined corners are turned. Purple bougainevilla flowered in a quiet corner of the ruins. In the mid-1850's Benito Juarez became Mexico's first full-blooded Indian president and instituted the Reform Laws, aimed in part at curbing the overwhelming and pervasive power of the Catholic Church in Mexican society. For centuries, the Church had acted as an ally and apologist for the rich, and Juarez saw it as a major obstacle to social and economic change. In 1856, the Franciscan Convento was closed, along with many other religious facilities around the country. Naturally enough, when local people observed the departure of the Franciscans, they moved right in and created their own neighborhood on the property. Gradually walls and roofs were removed to sell the materials, and the property fell more and more into ruin.

A "flying buttress" supports a wall in an inner courtyard. The arched support above is an architectural innovation of the Middle Ages. Medieval architects realized that they couldn't construct the graceful walls of their churches above a limited height without making the walls so thick that the structure would become impractical. The solution was the flying buttress, which allowed huge stained-glass windows and soaring walls. The walls could remain relatively thin, giving the structure an open, airy feel. When the Ex-Convento was constructed, Spain had only recently emerged from the Middle Ages, and the old architectural styles were imported to Nueva Espana.

The Ex-Convento deteriorated for almost a century. In 1953, an effort began to restore the old structure before it completely fell apart. However, it wasn't until the 1980s that reconstruction began in earnest. As a great admirer of ruins, I was glad the restorationists chose to maintain the "ruined" aspect of much of the structures, even as they built their museum. The Ex-Convento is a quiet, dreamy place, worth an afternoon's ramble even without visiting its spectacular museum. I could almost hear the haunting footsteps of colonial friars as they rushed about preparing for another risky mission among the savage tribes of the North.

A great collapse. While the area of the Convento was abandoned, the Templo continued in use until a few years after the Revolution. In 1924, the vault of the main nave of the church (see above) collapsed. It took another three decades before the architectural value of the property was fully recognized and restoration finally began in 1987. One of Zacatecas' famous artists, Rafael Coronel, offered his collection of masks and other objects which became the major focus of the museum.

Empty passageways, ruined walls, with the sky as the only roof. This whole site is very evocative, and I lost track of Carole and our European friends as I wandered from room to passage to courtyard, the walls all overflowing with flowering vines. I lost myself in the feel of the place and the joy of photographing it. Finally, I broke away from my haunted old convent, and decided to venture into the scary precincts of its Museo de Mascaras.

The Rafael Coronel Museum contains a vast mask collection. In my research for this post, I found various estimates of the number of masks in the collection. The highest was 10,000. One article stated that, whatever the number, those on display were only 30% of the total, the remainder being kept in storage. The skull masks above were probably meant for a Dia del Muerto fiesta.

Some masks reflect the wild animals found in the indigenous makers' environment. Above you can see representations of various members of the cat family, including jaguars. In some indigenous communities, the animals were considered protectors. When the masks were worn during ceremonies, the wearer would dance in imitation of the movements of the animal represented.

Close view of cat mask reveals a successful hunt. The jaguar shown above appears to have caught a snake, which writhes in its mouth. The mast is carved from wood, with actual fur attached as cat whiskers. The earliest mask found in Mexico may have been made between 12,000 and 10,000 BCE, and represents the head of a coyote.

Hungry caiman appears ready to leap on its prey. Crocodiles, alligators, and caiman are found in the swamps and lagoons along Mexico's coastal areas. The mask above is worn on the shoulders with the person's head through the hole in the middle. About 1200 BC, masks in clay and stone began to appear. Later, the Mayas built the Palace of Masks about 10 AD, in Uxmal, a major site near Merida in Yucatan. The rain god Chac appears in hundreds of masks at the site.

Not one you'd want to meet in a dark alley. The mask museum was eery. It wasn't just the masks, but the dim lighting of the seemingly endless series of rooms, empty of people but full of masks. Intent on photographing a mask, I would feel the hairs on my neck rise up. Turning quickly, I would find something like this staring me in the face.

Some of the masks reflected the native view of the arriving Spanish. This creation was more than a mask. The wearer also donned a set of armor, based upon the costume of the ruthless and grim-faced Spanish conquistadors. Many of the other masks representing Spanish figures were big-nosed and pink-skinned. Appropriately, ghostly images are reflected in the glass of the case containing this armored figure.

Domesticated animals introduced by the Spanish also began to appear in masks. One of the aspects I found fascinating was the depiction of more than one animal in a mask. In this case, a lizard climbs down the snout of a rather startled-looking cow.

Another cow, this time with a toothy grin. Indigenous masks are a way of integrating the secular and the religious. Aztec priests wore masks at human sacrifices, but so did their sacrificial victims. Warriors in the indigenous military orders wore masks representing animals, such as jaguars, that were the symbol of their order.

A mask to make Mick Jagger proud. This one reminded me of the famous Rolling Stones poster with the meaty lips and protruding tongue. Jagger, who wrote a song about the Devil, would probably identify with this mask. Often, masks like these would be worn in conjunction with masks representing Catholic saints in dramas where they would vanquish the Devil figures.

And speaking of devils... The mask maker pulled out all the stops on this one. Three sets of horns, a nose like a coiled snake, and a tiny mask on the end of the tongue are only a few of the details the maker included. Guaranteed to scare!

A magnificent set of mountain sheep horns adorns this mask. Once again, the maker has included real features of the actual animal depicted, but added his own touches including squinting eyes and a rather creepy smile.

Warthog peers out from dark, hooded eyes. Another critter obviously up to no good, and one that gave me a start in a shadowy room.

A wooden mask with actual teeth. Although more primitive than some, and unpainted, I found this mask particularly striking because of the teeth, which may or may not be human. There was no sign to explain. Unlike the conception of self in European societies, the indigenous people believed that the person was not separate from his environment, with distinct boundaries. Instead, they believed there was a direct relationship, almost a continuum, between the person and the natural life around him or her. Often they believed that each person had an animal counterpart with supernatural powers which could be called upon through rituals including masks.

Boo! Happy Halloween and Feliz Dia del Muertos! Hasta luego. Jim

Zacatecas Part 3: The Eden Mine and Baroque Art of Guadalupe

El Eden Mine is entered by train. For me, one of the most interesting sites we visited during our sojourn in Zacatecas was El Eden Mine, which extends 3,000 meters under Cerro La Bufa hill. The silver output from El Eden helped Zacatecas produce 20% of the worlds supply at one point. Silver and other minerals formed the basis of Zacatecas' wealth for centuries. They also motivated centuries of conflict in the area, right up to the Mexican Revolution when Pancho Villa seized the city in a bloody battle aimed at controlling the silver output. The mine's ore production ceased in the 1960s after continuously operating for almost 400 years, starting in 1588. After it closed, the mine became a tourist attraction and facilities were built to safely transport sightseers deep into the heart of La Bufa on the train you see above. One of the world's most unusual nightclubs is located deep in the mine. The train has only a single track, so it goes one way into the mine and then reverses direction to come out. The mine is open daily from 10:00 AM - 6:00 PM and the fee is $25 pesos ($1.94 USD).

El Eden was carved out by hand. Our guide assured us that El Eden is safe for tourism because no explosives were ever used during mining. I found this extraordinary given the size of the mine. The tunnel we traversed extended more than a mile into the heart of La Bufa, and is the only one of four levels open to tourists. The lowest level is completely inundated by water. Over the centuries, all these tunnels were laboriously carved by hand from solid rock. Since there were no explosions to crack the rock, there is little danger of cave-ins. The floor shown above was obviously smoothed with concrete so gawkers like me wouldn't break our necks tripping over the rough stone which once sounded with the shuffling steps of Indians carrying their backbreaking loads.

Silver was not the only source of El Eden's riches. Other minerals mined included gold, lead, zinc, and copper, although in much smaller quantities than the silver. Miners followed a vein where ever it took them, which resulted in some winding tunnels. Above, various minerals can be seen in the rock. Silver and gold are both often found associated with quartz, the white mineral running in bands across the photo.

The technology of mining at El Eden didn't change much until the 20th Century. Above, two mannequins display the technique for moving miners from one level to another. Heaven help a miner if the rope broke. The miners were largely Indian, with some mestizos (those of mixed Indian and Spanish blood). Few of the Indians from the local Chichimeca tribes worked the mines in the early centuries because they were too busy fighting to expel the Spanish intruders from their territory. Most of the early miners came from the Aztec and Tlaxcalan areas to the south.

The Chichimecas' name has a variety of translations, including "blood-suckers" and "born of a line of dogs." The Aztecs gave them these names because they considered Chichimecas to be blood-thirsty barbarians. Since the Aztecs practiced wholesale human sacrifice, a custom unknown among the various tribes branded as Chichimeca, the name seems pretty hypocritical. It was true that the local tribes were ferocious warriors and expert at the unrelenting guerilla warfare they waged first against Aztec invaders and then for 50 years against the Spanish mining communities of Zacatecas. The conflict ended only when a more enlightened Spanish administration arrived and successfully purchased peace with tools, goods, food, and an end to the practice of enslaving the local indigenous population.

Dropping into the dark bowels of the earth. At the other end of the winch cable, a small cage carries a miner down into what must have seemed like hell. The average lifespan of an Indian miner was 36 years. During his working years, from the day he entered the mine until he died, he never saw daylight. The work day began well before dawn, and ended long after sunset. Accidents and mine-related illnesses were so common as to be beneath notice by the Spanish (and later Mexican) authorities. After the Mexican Revolution, when miners won the right to form unions and could demand better conditions, the lot of the miners improved.

Moving the ore was as laborious as carving it out. Above, a pair of mannequin miners push a heavily loaded mining cart along a narrow track. These old carts can be seen on the streets of Zacatecas and other old mining cities, often used now as planters. In earlier times, the ore was carried in wicker baskets on the backs of the Indians. The load could exceed 80-100 lbs. Often the Indian would have to climb from one level of the mine to another using rickety ladders or even ropes while burdened with these heavy loads.

Shrine created by miners helped them cope with the awful conditions. We found this little altar at the end of one tunnel.

Water sculpture adorns another tunnel niche. Someone created this lovely little sculpture out of materials and minerals from the mine. The water runs down the slot running the length of the sculpture and then pours into a pool at the bottom.

Visitors treat the pool below the water sculpture as a wishing well. We found the bottom of the pool covered with coins left by wishful tourists. Many of the coins found their way into this shallow clay pot.

Yet another kind of treasure. We found the odd looking sculpture above in the gift shop of El Eden Mine. The sculptor partially carved out ancient fossils from a sheet of rock. The fossils show that eons ago the tunnel deep in the mine where this rock originated was once the bed of a shallow sea.

The Baroque art of the Museum of Guadalupe

Cornstalk Christ. Some of the fabulous wealth carved with such effort from the Eden Mine was spent richly decorating religious buildings throughout Mexico. The figure above was sculpted in the 16th Century with an ancient technique using cornstalks as the frame and paper as a covering. We saw a similar crucifix figure on the wall of a church in San Miguel Allende. Because of the materials used, the figures are very fragile and great care must be used to maintain them.

We found this remarkable religious sculpture in the Museum of Guadalupe, formerly a convent called the College for the Propagation of the Faith of Our Lady of Guadalupe of Zacatecas, operated by the Franciscan Order of the Catholic Church. The convent was shut down as a result of the Reform Laws of the 1850s, which aimed to curb the power of the church. The monks did what they could to maintain the old structure, but it passed through a variety of uses including soldiers' barracks and barn. In the 20th Century, it was finally recognized as an architectural treasure and restored. Part of the facility still functions as a church and convent. The Museum of Guadalupe is located facing the Jardin Juarez in Guadalupe, a town on the eastern outskirts of Zacatecas. The hours are 9:00 AM to 6:00 PM daily, with a fee of $52 pesos ($4.00 USD).

A sculptor's workshop. Notice the partially formed torso held horizontally on a lathe-like device so that it could be turned. The tool on top of the form is a set of calipers for measuring the correct depth of a cut. In the 16th Century, the Spanish government created a system for organizing trades or gremios. The workshop shown above would have belonged to the gremio for sculptors. In each workshop a maestro, or master craftsman, directed the work. Long training was required to achieve this status, culminating in the creation of a "masterpiece", hence the modern term. This system also originated the Master of Arts Degree in higher education, for which one must write a master work known as a thesis. In the original gremios, the maestro oversaw the work of apprentices and ensured that required standards for that gremio were maintained. The apprentices were children or adolescents placed by their fathers under contract with the maestro. They were taught the trade and could eventually become maestros and establish their own workshops. This source of upward mobility was also available to the Indian population, which had produced fine craftsmen for centuries before the Spanish arrived and on whom the Spanish depended for much of the work on their religious and public buildings and their private mansions.

A full size Saint Francis seems eerily alive. At first glance, I almost expected Saint Francis to get up and greet me as I entered the chamber where he sat. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226) was the patron saint of animals and the environment. He founded the Order of Friars Minor, commonly known as the Franciscans, who were very active in Nueva Espana, building churches, schools, hospitals, and converting the Indians.

Santiago Matamoros. Saint James, Killer of Moors, was a somewhat less peaceable saint. Santiago was an especially important saint to the Spanish who credited him with helping them defeat the Moors in the 15th Century and drive them from Spain where they had dominated for 800 years. In the anonymous 17th Century sculpture above, an armed and armored Santiago, mounted on his military charger, tramples the bodies of slain Moors. Santiago is also credited by the Spanish conquistadors for their victory over the Indians around Queretaro. Legend has it that Santiago appeared in the sky and so overawed the Indians that they laid down their arms and surrendered.

Santa Ana, 18th Century. This figure, about 2 feet high, was carved by an anonymous artisan from wood. Saint Ana (Hannah in Hebrew) was the mother of the Virgin Mary and therefore Jesus' grandmother, according to Christian and Islamic tradition. Although there is no mention of her in either the Bible or the Koran, she has been venerated since at least the 6th Century. As an abuela, or grandmother she has special status in Mexican culture where abuelas are especially honored. Santa Ana is the patron saint of miners.

Santiago Caballero. Another figure of Santiago, again in a battle stance from an anonymous sculptor in the 18th Century. The Spanish, as conquerors, needed a religious underpinning for their Conquest. Otherwise it might simply be viewed as butchery, rape, theft, and enslavement. Similarly, the English and American conquerers liked to view themselves in biblical terms as "chosen people" with a "manifest destiny" to rule North America while committing genocide against the native people in their area.

Carved stone gargoyle. Figures like these were used to ornament water drain pipes off the roofs of religious buildings. The water would spout from the hole in the gargoyle's mouth.

La Virgen de Guadalupe. Classic painting showing the Virgin standing, hands folded, completely surrounded with a glowing halo. La Virgen de Guadalupe is the patron of Mexico, particularly of its indigenous people. La Virgen was first seen in the 16th Century, not long after the Conquest, by an Indian on a hill near a ruined temple to an indigenous goddess. The Church officials at first resisted the growing practice of worshipping La Virgen, but when it persisted they saw the wisdom of incorporating it into the Church tradition. After all, if the Church in the Dark Ages could transpose the tree-worshipping practices of the Germanic barbarians into the Christmas Tree, why not a adopt a pagan goddess and clothe her in Christian tradition? Ironically, because of La Virgen's appeal to common people, she was used as a rallying symbol by insurgents during the War of Independence against Spain.

A richly decorated stone cross. There was no sign indicating the origin of this old cross, but it probably sat on a steeple of a religious building for centuries before ending up in the Guadalupe Museum.

A bleeding Christ lies in the arms of an unidentified figure. I am always astounded, as a non-religious person but one raised in the Protestant tradition, at the graphic realism of Catholic religious art. The Christ figures are emaciated, and covered over with bleeding wounds, and the martyrdom of saints is often depicted in the most gory detail. Instead of repelling people, it seems to attract them.

This completes Part 3 of my series on Zacatecas. Next, I will focus on the Pedro Coronel Museum, site of the most extraordinary set of indigenous masks I have ever encountered. Appropriately, you will have the opportunity to view these mind-boggling and sometimes frightening creations when I post on Halloween weekend.

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Zacatecas Part 2: La Bufa & the Teleferico

Teleferico car appears to dangle between the steeples of the Zacatecas Cathedral. Two of the "must do" activities for a visitor to Zacatecas are a visit to La Bufa and a ride on the Teleferico. They can actually be accomplished at much the same time, since the most spectacular way to visit La Bufa is on the Teleferico, which has a station on the south side of town and one on the peak of La Bufa. During our visit to Zacatecas, Carole and I and our friends Denis, Julika, and Verena decided to take a 1/2 day-tour. We easily arranged this through the desk at our hotel, the Best Western Argento Inn. The cost was only $250 pesos per person (a little less than $20 USD). It was well worth the cost since it included van transportation, all entry fees, and the services of a dynamic young guide, Antonio, who was very well informed and spoke excellent English.

Cerro La Bufa looms above Zacatecas. At 8858 feet (2700m), this steep hill is the most prominent natural feature in the city. Above, you can see the Teleferico cables on the upper left as they dip down toward the city on their way to the station high above. On the peak of La Bufa mountain is a small Italian-built observatory. To its right you can see the strange hump of La Bufa rock. The heights of Cerro La Bufa gained fame as the site of the bloodiest battle of the Mexican Revolution, fought between Pancho Villa and the forces of the usurper-President Victoriano Huerta. Villa's men had to fight their way up the sides of La Bufa and thousands of soldiers were lost in the attack. When Cerro La Bufa fell, so did silver-rich Zacatecas, and so ultimately did Huerta who fled Mexico shortly afterward. He knew that the game was up when the riches of Zacatecas fell into Villa's hands.

A hill named for a pig's bladder. The Spanish, who arrived in 1546, thought the strange, humped rock on the crest of the hill looked like a partially deflated pig's bladder. Basques in Spain used such bladders to contain drinking water and wine and so the hill gained its famous name. Had we more time, and had I worn my hiking boots, I would have loved to clamber up the back of the rock. Maybe next time! At the base of the rock (to the left above) was a long flat plateau containing a number of interesting sites. One we were not able to visit, because it is closed on Mondays, is the Museo de la Toma de Zacatecas which contains material relating to Pancho Villa, the taking ("la Toma") of Zacatecas. We did see the huge statues of Villa and two of his generals on horseback. Villa is shown brandishing his Winchester rifle on a rearing horse. Unfortunately the light was poor, so I was unable to get any pictures of the statue.

The observatory gives a spectacular view. The observatory was founded in 1906, for meteorological purposes. One can see almost 360 degrees around the city.

The view from Cerro la Bufa. For all its other interesting attractions, La Bufa's real draw is its truly breath taking view. You are looking almost due east. On the lower right you can see the spires of the Cathedral and the other buildings of El Centro. There is more of the city to the south and west, as it snakes along the ravine below La Bufa and the others hills surrounding the town. Far to the east you can see the high desert mountains and plateaus. We picked a spectacularly clear day to visit La Bufa. Notice that the tallest buildings appear to be the Cathedral and other churches. The absence of modern glass and steel buildings was pleasing to my eye.

Bungee jumping over an ancient city. Antonio, our guide, told us that the city had just completed the bungee jumping ramp above. He informed us that he intended to have the honor of the first jump. The drop at the end of the ramp is truly awesome.

Capilla del Patrocinio celebrates the appearance of La Virgen on La Bufa. Above, Carole (L.) and Verena (R.) stroll through the long rectangular courtyard outside the chapel perched on the brow of La Bufa. In 1589, local people testified that the Virgin Mary had appeared on La Bufa. People in Zacatecas began to flock to the site to pay homage. In 1728, Bishop Gomez de Cervantes built a chapel to honor the Virgen del Patrocinio. The Capilla fell to ruin over time, but was rebuilt in 1795 by Bishop Rouset. The Virgen is also credited with helping deflect the invasion of Zacatecas by Americans in 1847.

Tiled portales run the length of both sides of the courtyard in front of the Capilla. Portales are arched, open hallways that are features of many colonial era buildings. They allow one shade on a hot day, and protection from rain when the weather is inclement. A beautiful volcanic stone known as red cantera is the building material here, as it is on many lovely old buildings in Zacatecas.

The shoe makers' coat-of-arms. Various trades and occupations were organizied into "gremios" centuries ago and these gremios still are active in religious and social life. So many people wanted to visit the Capilla during fiestas, that the authorities decreed that people should visit on particular days according to their gremio. The various gremios in Zacatecas placed plaques with their coats-of-arms on the walls to indicate the devotion of the members of that occupational group. The plaque above was placed by the Gremio de Zapateros (shoe makers).

The Altar of la Virgen del Patrocinio. Inside the Capilla was a small sanctuary with a gorgeous altar at the head. La Virgen is obviously still held in high esteem.

La Virgen del Patrocinio, herself. At various times of the year, the statue of la Virgen is removed from the Capilla and moved around from church to church and even from town to town in religious processions with thousands of participants.

El Cubo Aqueducto was constructed more than 250 years ago. The major source of clean water in Zacatecas for centuries, the aqueduct fell out of use when the city grew too large. In 1921, local authorities decided to preserve El Cubo Aqueducto for its beauty and architectural value. This aqueduct is not significantly different in design or function from those built by the Romans 2000 years ago. The orange-colored, semi-circular building just in front of the Aqueduct is the Quinta Real Hotel, built perfectly into the 17th Century structure of the old San Pedro bull ring. This is one of the world's most unusual hotels, but a little spendy for my taste ($400-500 USD/night).

Cathedral de Zacatecas. This photo, shot from the balcony of the Capilla del Patrocinio, shows the dome and steeples of the old Cathedral from the rear. Notice the arched "flying buttresses" along the sides. This was an feature created by medieval architects to allow very tall walls without the necessity of making them too thick.

Templo Santo Domingo. The Templo is located on the street just behind our hotel. It was built between 1746-1750 by the Jesuit Order. The architect was Father Ignacio Calderon. The sponsor was Don Vicente Zaldivar, whose wife, Dona Ana Temino de Banuelos, was daughter of one of Zacatecas' founders. The Templo was abandoned in 1767 when the Jesuits were expelled from the New World. However in 1785, the Templo was taken over by the Dominican Order. Among Zacatecas' many religious buildings, the Templo Santo Domingo is second only in importance to the Cathedral. Unfortunately, the interior was undergoing renovation while we were in Zacatecas, so I couldn't photograph inside.

A jaw dropping ride through the sky. One of the cars of the Teleferico rises toward Cerro La Bufa station. We took the tour van to the top of La Bufa, then rode the Teleferico down. The ride was smooth, gentle, but spectacular as we drifted hundreds of feet over colonial El Centro. Riding the Teleferico gives you a perspective on the city you can find no other way. The Swiss-built Teleferico was opened in 1979.

Cerro La Bufa station. The station at the top contains a gift shop and a restaurant/bar. We talked about returning for a drink at sunset, but never got around to it. Definitely, next time. The red-topped tower of the observatory is behind and to the left of the station.

The tiny car rises above a pastel colored Zacatecas neighborhood. You can see from this photo how high the Teleferico car rises above the city, and how the neighborhoods are built right up the sides of the hills surrounding the ravine.

View of the Cathedral from the lower Teleferico station. The two steeples are topped with domes that are covered with blue tiles. The cantera is turning a deep rust color in the late afternoon sun.

Zacatecas basks in the evening sun. The photo was also taken from the lower Teleferico station. Again, you can see the low profile of the Zacatecas, which gives it a human scale lacking in more modern cities.

This completes Part 2 of my Zacatecas series. In the next installment, we will tour the Eden Mine, a hell-hole in its day that was far from its unintentionally ironic name. I hope you enjoyed this installment as much as I enjoyed preparing it. Feel free to pass the link to this blog to friends and family, and also to comment either below or by emailing me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments section below, please be sure to leave your email so that I can answer you.

Hasta luego! Jim

Zacatecas Part 1: Treasure of the North

Viva Mexico! Zacatecas celebrates the War of Independence. Carole and I joined with 3 other people in a 2-car caravan to visit the northern colonial silver-mining city of Zacatecas in late September. The other folks were a couple named Denis and Julika, and single woman named Verena. Denis is originally from Ireland, and Julika and Verena are originally from Germany. All are currently full-time expats in the Lake Chapala area. We looked forward to the trip because we enjoy Denis, Julika and Verena's company, and because we thought traveling with such an international group would provide some interesting perspectives. When we arrived in Zacatecas, late in the afternoon, the city was still festooned with the banners and flags you see above from the Independencia fiesta which had just finished.

The trip from Lake Chapala to Zacatecas took about 5 hours, but it was nearly all on cuotas (superhighway toll roads), so the driving was smooth and beautifully scenic. The only spot where we anticipated driving difficulties was Aguascalientes, about 2/3 of the way to Zacatecas. Aguascalientes has a reputation for terrible traffic and confusing streets. However, we took a bypass road to the east (Avenida Siglo XXI) and encountered only light traffic. This may have been because we drove up on a Sunday, but when we returned the same way the following Wednesday, the traffic was still reasonably smooth.

Aerial view of El Centro. Zacatecas is the capital of the Mexican state of the same name. It is a thriving small city of about 123,000. The name Zacatecas means "place of abundant grass" in the nahuatl language of the indigenous people living there when the Spanish arrived. The city, at a breath-taking 8050 feet, perches on the sides of a deep ravine surrounded by high desert hills. Shown above is El Centro, the old town, seen from La Bufa, a famous mountain overlooking the city. I'll have more about La Bufa in a future post in this series.

The city was founded in 1548, about 2 years after silver was discovered by conquistador Juan de Tolosa at the base of La Bufa. In the center of the picture is the Cathedral. Immediately to the right is the red roof of the Palacio Gobierno (Government Palace). The red roofed building to the left of the Cathedral is Mercado Gonzalez Ortega which was built in neoclassical style between 1886-1889 on the site of the old public market place. The Mercado is now an up-scale set of stores selling fine silver, wines and other expensive goods. The Mercado also contains the Acropolis, a very nice restaurant where we ate a couple of times. Immediately above the red roof of the Mercado in the photo is a block of 3 multi-story buildings, the center one of which is cream-colored. That was our hotel, the Best Western Argento Inn.

Best Western Argento Inn, our base of operations in Zacatecas. Denis (L.), Julika (M.) and Carole (R.) wait to cross the busy street in front of the Argento Inn. We enjoyed our stay at the hotel, and found the staff to be very attentive. Our friends in Ajijic had warned us that English-speaking visitors to Zacatecas had better have some Spanish capability. To our surprise, many of the hotel staff were able to speak very good English. We had actually delayed our visit to Zacatecas until we felt our Spanish was sufficient to manage routine needs. Again and again in Zacatecas, we found that our Spanish was answered with good English, generally by someone who had lived in the US. While we enjoy practicing our limited Spanish in Mexico, it is helpful to deal with an English speaker when there are complications.

The Argento Inn was about what one might expect from the Best Western chain: not overly artistic in decor, but containing all the modern conveniences and everything works. A very important convenience was off-street parking, included in the bill. Zacatecas is a difficult town to drive in, much less to find parking. We really didn't need our car to get around in the city itself, because the Argento Inn is located in the middle of El Centro, less than 2 blocks from the Cathedral. We could walk almost anywhere, and cabs were cheap and plentiful when we didn't want to walk. For more information about our hotel, click here.

Zacatecas was one of the world's great silver-mining cities. Over the last 400 years, the city's mines produced more than 1.5 billion ounces of silver. Mexico still produces more than 17% of the world's silver and Zacatecas is a major source of this ore, as well as gold, copper, lead, and other minerals. The monument shown above commemorates the Indian miners who lived and died in the mines, producing enormous wealth, almost none of which ended up in their hands. The average lifespan of an Indian miner was between 30 and 40 years, and once they entered the mines, they never saw daylight again, beginning work before dawn and ending long after sunset. They were immediately indebted to the mine owner and could not leave until the debt was satisfied, which it almost never was. A miner's son inherited the debt and was bound to work in the mine when his father died. It was slavery in every way but name.

Alley of the Sad Indian. I encountered the sign for this callejon (alley) before I heard the story of the Indian miners, and wondered at its significance. Later I understood.

No sad Indians here! Despite the gloomy name, the Callejon del Indio Triste rang with the laughter of children playing along its length. The photo above gives an idea of how narrow these ancient alleys are. In the background, the city is built up the sides of the ravine below La Bufa. El Centro is criss-crossed with these callejones, which are not all straight but often snake around natural features of the land. This is an easy city in which to get lost, on foot as well as in a car.

Red limestone glows in the evening light. I noticed this wonderful rose colored building while standing under some portales (archways) across the street. I thought the arched portal would make a nice frame for the limestone building. Zacatecas is known for this wonderful rosy limestone, called cantera, which the Spanish discovered to be an excellent building material.

Monks on the move. While wandering the streets, I encountered these two monks striding purposefully up the street. Zacatecas is full of old religious buildings erected by various religious orders including the Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinians and others. I was amused to notice that, under his robe, the front monk wore bluejeans and sneakers.

The old and the new, juxtaposed. Everywhere we go, in the cities or the smallest villages, we find cyber cafes, offering internet access to the locals. Above, the elaborate doorway of a Spanish colonial building is decorated with a 21st Century sign. Much of Mexico is "plugged in" and wireless service is found in many places.

A busy winding street in El Centro. Hidalgo street runs in front of the Hotel Argento. Above you can see how narrow the old stone-paved streets are. Because of this narrowness, many streets are one-way, invariably the wrong way when you want to drive on them. Of course, the streets were made for horses and carriages and foot traffic. The original engineers never envisioned the use to which they are now put.

Another steep, stone-paved callejon. This one leads from Hidalgo street up to the church on the hill above. Living in Zacatecas, one would develop the legs of a mountain goat from climbing all the callejones leading up the steep hillsides.

The alphabet soup restaurant. While wandering the byways of El Centro, I got separated from Carole and our companions. I was preoccupied with photography, turned and simply found them gone, disappeared down some side street. I searched fruitlessly through the area for a while. They were searching for me too, as Carole told me later, at length and with some heat. Hungry, I finally gave up. I almost passed up this little Mexican buffet, the Sopa de Letras, but two young Mexican waiters enticed me inside. They were working so hard to drum up business that I thought I'd give it a shot. The food, a wide variety of Zacatecas specialities, was excellent and the waiters took good care of me. They seated me at a table behind the flag in the balcony seen above, where I could view the intricate stone work of the Cathedral entrance just across the street.

Luis admires the evening view. Luis was one of the two at the front door. As I came in, I made some small comment in Spanish and he immediately answered "I speak English, you know." As Luis saw to my every need, I struck up a conversation with him, learning that he had spent many years in Los Angeles and Washington State, and had only recently returned to Mexico. He told me about the great view available from the roof of the restaurant, and when I expressed interest in the photo possibilities, he secured the permission of the restaurant manager to take me up. In the photo he is admiring the facade of the Cathedral across the street. The Mercado Gonzalez Ortega can be seen behind him. Just to the right of the two columns are the windows of the Acropolis Restaurant, another excellent eating place. His striking profile reminded me of some of the carvings I have seen on ancient Mexican ruins.

Plaza de General Auza. The statue is of General Miguel Auza Arrenechea, hero of the mid-19th Century Reform War between Liberals and Conservatives, and of the Battle of Puebla in 1863 against the invading French. The victory at Puebla is celebrated as Cinco de Mayo. Gen. Auza was born in the State of Zacatecas and numerous sites and towns bear his name. The little plaza itself was charming, cozy, and lined with trees. The soft colors of the old colonial homes around it showed nicely in the late afternoon sun.

The center of El Centro. The Cathedral with its bell towers and dome, and the Palacio Gobierno on the left, are "ground zero" of El Centro. Since one can see the Cathedral spires and dome from almost anywhere, they form a great landmark for someone lost in the intricacies of the winding callejones. The Cathedral was constructed from the same rosy cantera limestone seen in my earlier photo.

The Palacio Gobierno, as the afternoon shadows lengthen. The "grito", or cry for independence which triggered the revolt against Spain, is a traditional part of the independence celebration. The grito this year was probably delivered by the Zacatecas governor from the balcony over the main door above, to the people massed in the plaza below. Mexicans are a patriotic people and large crowds show up for these events. Behind the Palacio, La Bufa looms, topped by the Observatory, and to the right, the white Santuario de La Virgen del Patrocinio, the patroness of Zacatecas.

The governor's mansion was formerly a colonial home. Immediately to the left of the Palacio, at a right angle, is the governor's mansion. The mansion is another example of the fine work with red cantera limestone.

Corner detail of the governor's mansion. This section was probably added on after independence, because it has a distinctly 19th Century appearance. The lines and colors of the cantera blocks show very nicely here.

Callejon tunnel runs under the Palacio Gobierno, where it joins the Cathedral. Whoever built the Palacio apparently didn't want to block access from the next street and simply built the Palacio over the callejon, creating an interesting tunnel leading to Hidalgo street.

Main entrance of the Cathedral. The style of the entrance was Churrigueresque, a style that has become a synonym for "lavish" and "over-the-top". The stone carvings are fantastically intricate, and were so expensive at the time they were accomplished that a church seldom had its whole exterior done this way. Usually only the entrances were so decorated. What's more, all the details had religious meaning, often relating to other details in obscure ways. A tour guide spent at least a half hour just explaining the main features of this front entrance. This was my view from my widow seat at the Sopa de Letras.

The upper part of the main entrance is equally intricate. The figures between the columns represent each of the twelve apostles (the remaining four are in the picture above). Christ is in the center at the top. To the right of the figures on the top row, you can see a blank space in the design, where the coat of arms of the Spanish crown was originally carved. According to Antonio, our tour guide, the emblem of Spanish authority was sliced off the facade during the independence struggle. Nothing else ever replaced it, making it perhaps the only blank space in the entire design.

Detail of the Cathedral facade's columns. The Churrigueresque style was named after Jose Benito de Churriguera (1650-1725), a Spanish architect and sculptor. He attempted to achieve what was called "supreme order" in his creations. The lavish style gradually was supplanted in the 19th Century by neoclassic style with a cleaner, more sober design. Construction on the Cathedral began in 1730, on a site that had been occupied previously by two other churches. The Cathedral officially opened its doors in 1752. Much of the funds to build the Cathedral came from wealthy mine owners.

Bell Tower of the Cathedral. The red limestone tower looms against the deep blue of the sky. The colors here were irresistible to me. Notice how unadorned the Bell Tower is below the top. One of the bells was purchased through the donations of jewelry and coins by the faithful.

Teatro Calderon repeatedly experienced disaster. Originally built in 1832 on the site of an old penitentiary, the building burned to the ground in 1891. The Teatro was rebuilt in 1897, and orchestras and opera companies performed before audiences gowned in satin and dressed in white tie and tails. This was Mexico's version of the Gilded Age, and its excesses ended in the bloody revolution of 1910-1920. During the fighting for Zacatecas in 1914, the Teatro was partially destroyed when explosives stored next door blew up. Little was done for the next 70 years to rebuild the great structure, or protect its treasures. Then, in 1985, a burst of civic pride resulted in the rehabilitation of much of Zacatecas, including the Teatro we see today.

The intricate scroll work on the columns frames stained glass windows. We were not able to examine the interior of the Teatro because an important conference was under way. Apparently, former US Vice President Al Gore was giving a lecture on "An Inconvenient Truth" to Mexican students and environmentalists. The event appeared to be well attended.

This completes Part 1 of my series on Zacatecas. In Part 2 I will take you up to the top of La Bufa for the stupendous view of the city and a look at the place where Mexican Revolutionary Pancho Villa won his bloodiest victory. Please feel free to forward the link for this site to friends and relatives. If you have a comment, please leave it in the comments section below, or email me directly at jimncarole@hotmail.com if you have a question.

Hasta luego! Jim

Climbing the cliffs of San Esteban - Part 2

Large monolith towers over surrounding trees. In Part 1, we walked though beautiful woods and pastures before climbing steeply up to the main ridge of the San Esteban cliffs. Above, you can see one of our goals, a huge rock monolith. Robert (our rock climbing expert) wanted to rappel off the top. The monolith stands over 90 feet high and is about 10-12 feet across at the top. Ironically, we had to climb down the hillside behind the monolith for a couple of hundred yards to reach the top of this structure. This was only one of many monoliths we encountered on the hike.

Christopher waits his turn. Our group was composed of 15 men and women hikers from the US, Canada, and Mexico. While hiking with a large group can be fun, it also entails a lot a waiting. Rock climbing can be a slow, one-at-a-time process. We spent our waiting time chatting and catching up on one another's lives. Christopher never minds hanging out and taking pictures while others go ahead.

Another monolith, with a view of the mountains. One great thing about this hike was that both the foreground and the background were stupendous. Monoliths such as this one rose around the crest of the ridge like ramparts on a castle wall.

Fire raged across the valley. We spotted this smoke on a parallel ridge across a deep gorge. It could have been the result of a careless smoker, but more likely it was due to a local farmer trying to clear some land for planting. Sometimes, in the dry season, these fires get seriously out of control and aircraft have to drop fire suppressant material.

Lynne climbs a chimney. A long, high split in the rock like this is called a chimney. It is not difficult if you are familiar with the right technique, but can be very challenging if you are not. Lynne was not, and struggled mightily as we all encouraged her efforts. The greater the struggle, the greater the triumph when success is achieved. She made it. Rock climbing of this sort can often be harder for women, because they generally have less upper body strength than men.

A view from the top. Mike (L.) and Tom (R.) enjoy the long view to the north of the ridge. The cliffs drop off just in front of them. We originally thought this was the top of the monolith we were seeking to rappel, but soon discovered our goal was further to the east along the ridge.

The great monolith. As you can see, the spaces between the cliffs and monoliths are dense with underbrush and trees. Hopefully these would break a fall. Hopefully.

A scramble to the top of the great monolith. This is the view from behind the same rock structure seen in the last picture. Robert (L.), Tom (R.) and Mike (scrambling) went up to take in the view. The climb was not difficult from the rear, if you were careful. This was probably the maximum number of people you would want to share the view with at one time. The drop in front of Robert is at least 90 feet straight down.

A country lane snakes along the base of the cliffs directly below the monolith's peak. This is the same road, seen in the second picture of Part 1, along which our group initially hiked from the town of San Esteban.

Looking north from the monolith peak. Rolling hills, pastures, and corn fields spread out below, stretching off toward the distant peaks. Jalisco State has a lot of farmland enriched by the volcanic ash deposited over the centuries. The peaks in the distance may actually be in Zacatecas, since the border between the two states dips close to Guadalajara in this area.

The town of San Esteban lay at our feet. Looking over the rocky edge of the monolith, we could see San Esteban almost directly below just to our east. San Esteban stretches out along both sides of a road which follows a ravine. Although it is fairly close to Guadalajara, San Esteban is off the tracks normally beaten by area expats, so the townspeople seemed intrigued by the large group of gringo hikers who suddenly materialized in their midst.

Little brothers. While many of the monoliths we encountered were huge--some the height of a 5-story building--others were smaller. The two above were about the height of tall humans. I don't know the geological origins of these unusual rock structures, but would love to hear from anyone who does.

Small and delicate, yellow flowers blossom in the shadows of rock giants. I have noticed that the higher the altitude, the smaller the flowers. These little yellow beauties managed to eke out a living in the cracks among the rocks under our feet.

A final view from the top. Here you are looking roughly south east. This country is typical of Jalisco: lush, fertile valleys separated by rugged mountain ridges.

Starting down. Descending, while taking less effort than climbing, is often more precarious in the mountains. Since you are facing out, away from the mountain, gravity works against you. It is more difficult to see secure footholds from above than below. Finally, you are already tired from climbing, and are probably thinking about that cold beer to come, so it is easy to lose focus and miss your step. More people get hurt descending than climbing. Some, as you can see above, prefer to do it on their backsides. Above, Craig in the foreground, waits as his wife Halcyon scoots down a tricky section on her behind.

In some places, backsides just won't do. We needed to get down some pretty steep rock faces, so Robert broke out his rappelling gear and gave some quick lessons to the uninitiated, which included Halcyon above. The art of rappelling is not hard to learn, but is somewhat counter-intuitive. It requires you to trust your gear and lean back into space, an act someone new to the game may find a little unnerving at first.

Caroline rappels down a slot as Christopher and others "spot" for her below. Without the proper gear, and care in using it, one could easily twist or break an ankle. Such an injury would be very problematic in this terrain with a long way yet to go down.

Down the ridge and through the slot. Caroline (L.) and Halcyon (R.) carefully picked their way over the loose rocks and through a slot separating two huge boulders. Caroline clutches her camera to keep it from banging against the rocks. One of the dangers I have found in a place like this is the temptation to get caught up in all the great photo opportunities. By not paying enough to my footing, I've taken a few spills this way. Fortunately, other than some minor cuts and bruises, I've been lucky.

Awaiting us were lush green meadows, abounding with lovely wildflowers. Although a little nerve-racking at times, the climb down was accomplished fairly quickly. The group made a bee-line to the nearest tienda in San Esteban for the traditional post-hike beer. I don't drink alcohol, and neither does my friend Bob, but both of us drink O'Douls a non-alcoholic beer. I stepped up to ask if the tienda carried the brand, while Bob pooh-poohed the notion. To the amazement of both of us, the proprietress promptly produced two ice cold cans! In Mexico, you just never know what you'll find.

This concludes Part 2 of my two-part series on Climbing the Cliffs of San Esteban. I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to forward a link to my blog to friends and family. If you would like to leave a comment, you can do so in the Comments section below or email me directly at jimncarole@hotmail.com. If you use the Comment section to ask a question, please make sure you include your email address so I can answer you.

Hasta luego! Jim

Climbing the cliffs of San Esteban - Part 1

Rugged cliffs and monoliths rim the hills overlooking San Esteban. This posting is Part 1 of a 2 part series on our hike into the cliffs of San Esteban. Several weeks ago, some of the more experienced hikers from both the Tuesday and Friday hiking groups teamed up to try our hands at the rugged cliffs above San Esteban. The little town lies a few miles to the north of Guadalajara. Robert, our rock climbing expert, brought his ropes and equipment in hopes of finding interesting climbs and rappels. San Esteban lies in a valley at the base of a hill which rises almost vertically about 1000 feet just behind the town. The top 500 feet or so of the hill is honeycombed with boulders, monoliths, and sheer rock faces.

Setting off through gorgeous farm country. About 15 of us piled into several vehicles and set off on this adventure. Larry, shown above, is a stalwart of the Tuesday group. Our route out of San Esteban took us along this dirt road, running along the base of the cliffs. Notice the fence posts. Mexican farmers don't waste money on expensive store-bought posts when a dead tree limb can suffice.

Mexican "fence post" cactus reminds us that we are in semi-desert. Although the country around us was lush with grass, corn or and other plants, large "fence post" cactus was also present. The cactus gains its name because it is sometimes planted in lieu of fences. Given its fearsome spines, it would be a good deterrent to straying livestock.

Large bee at work pollinating. This fellow was about the size of a large marble and completely ignored me as I moved in to photograph him at work. I am not sure what the flower is. Any enlightenment that can be offered would be appreciated


Dam resting quietly with a new kid. A female goat with young kids is called a dam in English. Females without kids are called does or nannies. In Spanish, a goat is called a cabra and a kid is a cabrito. We have found goats everywhere we have visited in Western Mexico. Goats arrived in Mexico with the Spanish. The hardy breed needs little maintenance, eats plants that will kill sheep or cattle, and produces hides, hair, meat and milk.Special restaurants called birreria serve cabrito, a delicacy here. It's pretty good.

Morning glories adorn a rustic fence post along our way. I have found Morning Glories everywhere I have hiked in Western Mexico. There are more than 1000 species, many of which are native to the Americas. They are found in temperate and tropical regions. What is typical of the Morning Glory is the trumpet shaped flower which opens in the morning--hence the name. The flower lasts only a day, but the plant is a prolific producer of flowers.

Cliffs of San Esteban. Periodically, through the trees, we caught sight of the rugged cliffs lining the ridge as we walked along the farm road. They formed an impressive rampart through which we had to find our way.

Finally, an opening. Robert, who had climbed here before, acted as our guide. After a mile or so, he found a faint trail through the thick underbrush and we turned up hill. Although the distance to the top of the ridge was not great, the way was steep. However, after 2 years of hiking and climbing in this area's rugged 5000-8000 foot mountains, I felt confident of my stamina.

A timid character. About half way up, the terrain leveled out into a plateau where cattle grazed. Our trail took us through the middle of the herd. This timid calf was very anxious about finding us between him and his mother. As soon as he could, he rushed over to her. He was quite handsome, I thought, with his large, beautiful, dark eyes and tawny hide. Since he weighed 2-3 times more than any of us, was armed with small but potentially effective horns, he could have been dangerous. But he was very young and frightened and so not very menacing.

Brahman cattle like this one originated in India and were brought to Mexico because they adjust well to the heat and are highly disease resistant.

A not-so-timid character. The bull of the herd was not amused. He watched us with a distinctly disapproving expression. Our strange appearance and accoutrements probably baffled him enough to prevent any menacing moves. Although this photo makes it appear I was close enough to tickle him under the chin, it is actually a telephoto shot. Contrary to some opinions, I am not that stupid.

Another critter, a bit smaller this time. My friend Tom is a regular Tuesday hiker and retired dermatologist. He found this little fellow on one of our rest breaks. I wanted to ask him a dermatologist question: do frogs give warts, or is it just toads? The frog is quite small, as you can see from the hairs on Tom's arm. If there are any amphibian experts out there, I would appreciate a name for this critter. (Photo by C. Jordan English).

And now, a giant. We were amazed by the size of some of the Oak leaves on the ground. As you can see, this one is several times the size of my boot. Oak forests lined the tops of the ridges overlooking San Esteban, as they do the mountain ridges overlooking Ajijic where I live. (Photo by C. Jordan English)

A rugged, rocky landscape. At this point we had entered the realm of the rocks. Strange and beautiful formations rose up all around us. I like rocks. This attraction has always puzzled Carole. Part of it is my interest in geology. However, I think mostly I just enjoy the lines and shapes and the pleasure of clambering up some formation to see what is on top.

Blue beauties among the rocks. These almost irredescent blue blossoms nicely set off the gray-brown of the rocks. They seemed to flourish near the crest of the ridge. Another flower needing a name.

More interesting formations emerged as we got higher. Tom (L.) and Bob (R.) clambered up to this slot in a rock face, looking for a trail. Bob is a retired veterinarian and former cowboy who has an endless stock of hilarious stories about his adventures in both professions.

Not yet ready for glory. This Morning Glory had not yet opened for business, as the sun had just reached its hiding place among the rocks.

A vast landscape opens before us. At this point we had reached a saddle in the ridge, and were beginning to move toward the giant monoliths higher up. Looking northeast, distant mountain ranges loom in the background. Asked to describe Mexico, an early conquistador simply crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it on the table. Much of Mexico is covered by mountain ranges, separated by valleys, large and small. This rugged landscape resulted in native cultures and languages developing separately from one another. Mexico still has over 60 distinct languages among its indigenous people.

Taking a break before taking on the monoliths. We stopped to rest in this saddle near the top of the ridge. The area was a jumble of boulders of various dimensions, but it afforded us blessed shade from the hot mid-day sun.

This completes Part 1 of "Climbing the cliffs of San Esteban". In Part 2, we move through a weird world of boulders and monoliths. Rock climbing and rappelling are on the agenda, and for some among us it would be the first time. I will post Part 2 in about a week. Stay tuned!

I hope you have enjoyed this first part. Feel free to pass along the link to this blog to friends and family. If you'd like to leave a comment, you can do so either by emailing me at jimncarole@hotmail.com, or by putting it in the comments section below. If you leave a question in the comments section, please make sure you include your email address so I can reply.

Hasta luego! Jim