Showing posts sorted by relevance for query leonera canyon. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query leonera canyon. Sort by date Show all posts

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Hiking Leonera Canyon

El Rio Verde flows peacefully below the steep cliffs of Barranca de Leonera. Last November, I read an intriguing story by John Pint in the Guadalajara Reporter (the local English-language newspaper). In it he described a ruggedly spectacular canyon to the north of Guadalajara. It seems I was not alone in my interest, because the next time my weekly hiking group assembled at Doñas Donuts in Ajijic to prepare for our usual trek into the mountains, everyone was talking about Pint's story. We quickly agreed upon a date and began alerting others to this hiking opportunity. On November 30, guided by Pint's excellent directions, 4 carloads of us departed Ajijic for the 2-hour drive to the canyon country north of Guadalajara.

The trailhead begins with a scenic mirador. The mirador, or overlook, is adorned with a spread-armed statue of Jesus and a tiny shrine. The cliffs drop away immediately in front of the stone wall, providing a sweeping view of the canyon. The mirador is situated a few kilometers northwest of the small town of Acatic, which can be reached off either the #80 cuota, or the Libramiento road that parallels it. Although we had brought high-clearance vehicles to ensure we could get through on the dirt road leading up to the mirador, a street vehicle could have made it just fine. At the end of this posting, I will print John Pint's specific directions for those who might like to visit the canyon. For a Google map of the area, click here.

A snake greeted us as we arrived at the mirador. This harmless green tree-snake had somehow wandered onto the flagstone patio of the mirador. Unfortunately, some unknown person had apparently stepped on its neck, injuring the beautiful little creature. After taking a photo or two, we carefully moved him to the trees outside the mirador where he would have some chance of survival. A widespread fear of snakes sometimes leads people to act with mindless cruelty.

The view from the mirador. A brilliant, almost cloudless day provided an awesome view. You can just make out the line of el Rio Verde (Green River) at the bottom of the canyon. The terrain moves down through several ecological zones, from dry, semi-desert at the canyon rim, to riparian forest at the bottom.

Diana under the cliffs. A Canadian, Diana is an avid hiker. She stands under the vertical cliff that drops down to the cobblestone road presently under construction. The locals clearly see the Barranca de Leonera as a tourist attraction, and have several projects under way. I was glad to be able to visit the area while it still retains its serene atmosphere. The line at Diana's feet brings water to mix the concrete at the construction site further down the trail.


A break for desayuno. We encountered these friendly construction workers part way down the canyon trail. They were gathered around a small fire built to cook desayuno, the morning meal, and cheerfully agreed to a photo. Mexicans will typically eat 4 times in a day. When they get up, they may have a cup of coffee and a sweet roll or a piece of fruit. At about 10 AM, they break for a more substantial meal which may include tacos or empañadas. At around 2 PM they eat comida, the main meal of the day, after which there may be a short siesta. In the late evening, perhaps 9 or 10 PM, they eat cena another light meal. The Mexican schedule of eating may be healthier than the typical north-of-the-border method which involves a heavy meal in the evening, when the body has slowed down, and can lead to fat retention and digestion problems.


The inner canyon. The outer canyon walls drop steeply to a sloping, wooded plateau. The plateau falls off sharply in places to form an inner gorge, as seen above.


Lovely butterfly poses for our cameras. I originally thought this butterfly might be a Monarch but it is not. It graciously remained motionless for the several minutes that it took for all of us to get our shots. Butterflies can often be difficult to photograph because they tend to move around a lot, often in unexpected directions.

As we approached the canyon bottom, the reason for el Rio Verde's name became evident. The water took on the green coloring of the hillsides. The steep cliffs of the outer canyon can be seen in the distance. Although lengthy, the trail was never really difficult. It amounted to a reasonably smooth dirt road for most of the way. Generally, for aesthetic reasons, I don't care to hike on dirt roads. However, this one provided such continuously outstanding views that I was willing to make an exception.

Tilandsia, a member of the Bromiliad family. We often find these odd plants growing on the branches of trees in the wild or on power lines in town. They gather all the water and nutrients they need from the air. Bromiliads have an amazing capacity to store water. Studies have shown that 175,000 bromiliads sometimes can be found in one hectare (2.5 acres) of forest. That many bromiliads can sequester 50,000 liters (13,000 gallons) of water.

Closeup of a flowering Tilandsia. Bromiliads are a huge family which includes pineapples. Tillandsia is a genus within the family, and has at least 500 species. They are very widespread, from Virginia to Argentina. They can be found everywhere from the seashore to the desert. The Mayas, Aztecs, and Incas all used bromiliads for food, fibre and ceremonial purposes. They do have roots, but those are used more for gripping tree branches and telephone lines than for gathering nutrients.

A banana grove indicates a settled area is near. As we wound down the dirt road, the vegetation became more lush, even tropical. These banana trees grow in the partial shade of deciduous trees that grow toward the bottom of the canyon. Bananas may be the first fruit farmed by humans. They originated in Malaysia from two inedible species which were crossed to form a sterile species that produced edible fruit. The plant was propagated by using shoots from its base. The first edible bananas may have been produced about 2000 BC. They were first brought to the Western Hemisphere by the Spanish Friar Tomas de Berlanga in 1502, and made their way to Mexico after the Conquest.

Evidence of civilization deep in the canyon. As we moved into the welcome shade of trees near the canyon bottom, we began to encounter the adobe ruins of a tiny pueblo. I have always liked old adobe structures because of their innate beauty as well as the antiquity of this method of construction. Filtered streaks of morning sunlight created a warm glow across the rough, rust-colored surface of the old wall above. It was a photograph I couldn't resist.

An arched doorway leads into the vestibule of a small house just off the road. The slanting morning sun brought out a  delicate yellow in this old ruined structure. Adobe is one of the oldest building materials in human history. It is made of easily obtained materials: sand, clay, water, and some kind of fibrous material, often straw. In spite of the fact that they are made essentially of earth, adobe buildings are extremely durable and account for some of the oldest structures on earth. The bible speaks of the Hebrews making adobe brick for the Egyptian pharoah. Indigenous people of the Western Hemisphere were making adobe for thousands of years before the Conquest, but the Spanish introduced them to the method of forming it into bricks. The Spanish themselves had been using adobe since at least the Late Bronze Age.

A small church indicated that the pueblo was not completely abandoned. Rural Mexicans are a religious people and churches are found everywhere among them. This tiny old church was perhaps 5 meters across (15 ft) and 10 meters long (30 ft). Gerry, a Canadian, watches from a distance as Mike, an American from Alabama, looks for a point of entry. Above the church you can see power lines, a fairly recent addition to the old canyon community.


Interior of the little church. Mike's efforts were successful, and we were able to briefly visit the interior of the old church. Everything was very rustic, but clearly the local people cared a great deal about their little chapel. The walls and altar contained fresh flowers, and a picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe--patron of Mexico's poor and indigenous people--held the place of honor. As always, a Mexican flag hangs in close proximity to the Virgin. The Virgin of Guadalupe is not only a religious but a political symbol in Mexico. After taking a few photos, we respectfully withdrew.

Hikers are dwarfed by huge Mexican Fencepost cactus. The cactus above is formally named Pachycereus marginatus, but is commonly referred to as Mexican Fence Post. It can grow up to 7 meters (20 ft) tall. Fence Post cactus grows widely in the wild, but is also cultivated as a decorative plant, as well as being used as a very effective fence along the edge of fields (hence the name). At this point in the hike we had almost reached the river. The group above went in search of some waterfalls John Pint had mentioned in his article.

Christopher tests the water. You may remember my friend Christopher from my postings on Zacatlán and our more recent visit to Tula. To our astonishment, we found a small resort at the bottom of the canyon. It included a large swimming pool, filled by water cascading from the pipe seen above. A canopy-shaded area is available for parties and other events, as well as a rudimentary bar. The owner of the establishment invited us to sit in the shade and sample lemons from the trees grown just behind the wall seen above. We were a little dubious about the offer until we tasted the lemons. Juicy and amazingly sweet, the lemons hit the spot after our long dusty hike down the canyon road. I have never encountered anything quite like the lemons of Leonera Canyon.


A short scramble over riverside boulders led us to this quiet stream. I imagine that in wet weather, the Rio Verde gorge becomes a roaring torrent. However, on the warm, sunny, fall day we visited, the canyon was serene; only the chirping of birds disturbed the quiet. From this point, you are looking upstream to the north.

And speaking of birds... I noticed a movement far up the stream. Using my telephoto, I captured this Great Blue Heron fishing from a rock in the middle of Rio Verde. Great Blue Herons are common to my former home in Oregon. In fact, there is even a micro-brewed beer named for them and sold in Portland. Great Blue Herons are the largest species of heron in North America. They can be found everywhere from Alaska to South America.

Looking downstream to the south. The inner part of Leonera Canyon widens a bit here, before narrowing between the steep inner-gorge cliffs seen in picture #7 above. El Rio Verde contains long deep pools that look like they'd make for good swimming. Since it was a bit late in the year, and I had no bathing suit (we were in a mixed party), I decided against giving it a try. Perhaps some other time.

Beginning the long return trek. Three of our party hike along the road as it wanders through a beautiful grove of shady trees. The waning afternoon required us to begin our hike out of the canyon. We never did find Pint's waterfalls. We later speculated that they might be up a side canyon from a trail we had seen branching off the road. We'll save them for a return trip.

Late afternoon sun begins to stretch shadows across the canyon. In the center of the photo is a large oval area with light colored vegetation. This was a cleared area of pasture land on the intermediate plateau. Looking closely, we could just see some stone walls and a couple of tiny sheds. In the distance, the canyon winds off toward the north. While we saw a great deal from the various viewpoints along the way, that unexplored (by us, anyway) and mysterious inner canyon still tweaked my imagination. At this point, I was about 1/2 way up to the top of the canyon.

My American friend Tom strolls up one of a long series of switchbacks. While the hike down was easy enough, the hike back felt much longer. None of it was really steep, but it went on and on in the hot afternoon sun. That is the penalty of hiking down into a canyon, as opposed to up into the mountains. Just at the time when you are tired and the sun is highest, you must go up rather than down. No one complained (much), however. The day had been luminous with late fall light, the views had been wonderful, and we had found a new hiking playground.

How to get there. By John Pint

"Near Tonalá (on the eastern side of Guadalajara) take the Tollroad-Autopista heading for Mexico City. Fifteen minutes later, the road divides. Take the left fork (signposted Zapotlanejo). Again the road divides and again you take the left fork, this time for Tepatitlán. You should now be on Autopista 80D, heading northeast. A half hour later take the Acatic exit. As you enter the town, set your trip odometer to zero at the Pemex gas station. Drive straight north through Acatic. Some zig-zaging is necessary due to one way streets, but you should eventually exit the town on Calle General Andrés Figueroa and find yourself on a half asphalted road well sprinkled with potholes. 6.6 kilometers from the gas station you'll come to a fork. Take the left branch and drive northwest. At 7.2 kilometers on the odometer, you'll come to another fork. Keep right and continue going northwest. At eight kilometers you'll arrive at the Lookout Point (mirador), which has a parking lot. Here you can begin your hike along a cobblestone road heading north. Driving time from the eastern edge of Guadalajara to La Leonera Mirador and parking spot: about one hour."

This completes my posting on our Leonera Canyon hike. I always appreciate feedback, so if you'd like to comment, you can do so either in the Comments section below, or by emailing me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments section PLEASE leave your email address so that I may respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

Monday, August 20, 2018

The Towering Waterfall and Lush Meadows of Cañon Leonera

Water cascades down the vertical walls of Cañon Leonera. In the summer of 2017 (I'm behind, I admit it...) I was among several carloads of expat hikers who drove two hours from the Lake Chapala area to visit this remote canyon. The gorge is hidden in the highlands area of Jalisco known as Los Altos, near the pueblo of Acatic. We make the long drive to the canyon at least once a year because of its many dramatic vistas and other fascinating attractions. If you'd like to see some of the canyon's features that I don't show here, you can visit my earlier posting entitled Hiking Leonera Canyon.


Cañon Leonera Overlook

The overlook provides a dramatic view of the canyon. This vista point is located next to the parking lot near the canyon's east rim. Below the wall where the hikers are standing, the terrain drops off precipitously. The road from Lake Chapala to Acatic is excellent, most of it on high speed cuotas (toll roads). However, the road from Acatic to the overlook is rough cobblestone which turns to dirt for the last several miles. There are almost no directional signs at the various forks in the road. If you are not fluent in Spanish, and would rather not wander around aimlessly on decrepit backcountry roads, I would strongly advise going with someone who knows the way. To connect with the Ajijic Hiking Group, click here.


Looking north, up the canyon. The country looks a bit like the Southwest US, with forested mesas and steep, reddish cliffs which drop down to rushing rivers. I took these photos in the late summer. At that time of year, everything is lush and green and the streams and waterfalls are full. My previous posting was from a winter visit, when the landscape is brown and there is little water, except in the river itself.


Looking south, the canyon sharply narrows between vertical cliffs. I have wanted to explore this dramatic and mysterious section since I first saw it from a distance. However, on a previous visit, we had a long talk with the owner of the evento  (recreation/party) site at the very bottom of the canyon. When we asked about a route in the southern direction, he shook his head. "Not a good idea. There are people down there who don't want you to see what they are doing." He would not elaborate, but we got the message loud and clear. I have never been afraid to visit Mexico's beautiful back country but, if the locals give you a warning like this, it would be foolish to ignore it. The evento owner saw no problems with the northern route and even guided us part of the way.


The Rim Waterfall

The waterfall drops vertically from an arroyo atop the canyon's east rim. This spectacular waterfall is dry most of the year, but it does run during the rainy season of the late summer and early fall. A long cobblestone road leads from the overlook to the river and, for a while, it closely hugs the wall of the canyon. Then, suddenly, the road makes a hairpin turn and begins a series of switchbacks down to the bottom. At that first switchback, a rough farmroad continues along the canyon wall for a couple more kilometers. About half way to its end, the farmroad loops into a side canyon and passes within 50 meters of the waterfall. At the bottom of the photo, you can see a heavy screen of trees between the road and the falls. When they are dry, you could easily miss them. However, in the late summer and early fall, their unmistakeable roar irresistibly draws you up a boulder strewn path to a rocky cul-de-sac.


The top half of the waterfall. It is very tall, and I was unable to get far enough back to capture it with one shot. The water splashed down the vertical side of the cul-de-sac. Swirling mists moistened the moss and ferns growing up to form deep green borders along each side of the cascading water.


A large pool fills the center of the cul-de-sac. Into it, the falling water crashed with a rythmic roar. The pool was drained by a stream that led back to the road and then down to the river far below. A cool mist coated everything, creating a circle of treacherously slick rocks around the pool. We all stepped carefully to avoid an inadvertent plunge into the water.


Red cliffs peep through thick foliage. We returned from the waterfull to the cobblestone road and then wound our way down the many switchbacks to the canyon's bottom. The view above is from a lookout part way down. The rim of the gorge is not one continuous line, but is composed of a series of bluffs and mesas, some standing alone.

Rock Ruins at the Canyon's bottom

Ruins of a rock shelter. At the bottom of the canyon, you can park your car near the recreation area and follow a trail that leads north along the river. In an old, disused, mango orchard, we found a number of rough, rock structures. It was not clear whether they had originally formed the foundations of rustic houses, or perhaps had been animal pens.


A rock wall extends down the slope toward the river. I have come across many similar walls, while hiking in remote back country areas. They are essentially just piles of stacked up rocks, without mortar, and some of them are quite old. Most of these old walls don't look sturdy enough to disuade a determined cow or horse, so they may be ancient property boundaries. Building such a wall would, no doubt, take a lot of work. However, the materials are all free and immediately available, unlike those necessary for a wire or wood fence.


Rio Verde


Rio Verde foams with whitewater. The heavy rains that had preceded our visit had also swelled the river and filled it with whitecaps. Rio Verde (Green River) flows through the Los Altos region, bisecting it from the northeast to the southwest. It eventually empties into the Rio Santiago, near Guadalajara. Los Altos is a high, semi-arid plateau, cut with deep canyons and gorges, the most important of which contains Rio Verde.



Rio Verde, looking north. The river gets its name from its normal color. The runoff from the rains has given it a café au lait hue. The calm water in the photo above is actually a shallow overflow area that is not normally covered with water. The raging river is behind the screen of trees at the center left, running along the base of the steep slope.


Meadows and Cliffs

In a lush, deciduous forest, a lone pitayo cactus reaches skywardPitayo (Organ Pipe Cactus) is sometimes called the "Mexican fence post" because farmers plant it along the edge of their fields to keep cattle from raiding their crops. This cactus produces a luscious fruit called pitaya, which is harvested in the wild and sold in street markets. The area around Guadalajara is an ecological transition zone where the wet coastal area meets the high desert. Consequently, you find plant species from both environments, often closely mixed together.


The mid-day sun lights up a lush, emerald-green meadow. The knee-high grass was full of birds and small insects. Although we saw evidence of cattle, they had not grazed here recently, or the meadow would have been much more closely cropped. In the distance, but much closer now, the red-walled cliffs of the stand guard over the canyon.


A butterfly poses for my photo. Butterflies are often difficult to photograph because they tend to flit around unexpectedly. This one posed delicately on a green leaf for just long enough. I was not certain, at first, whether this little critter was actually a butterfly or perhaps was a moth. Both are part of the classification Lepidoptera. However their antennae are different: moths have feathery feelers, while those of butterflies are long and thin with a bulb on the end. In addition, moths feed at night, while butterflies like the sunlight. Since we were, at the time, bathed in bright sunshine and the feelers looked right, I concluded that this was a butterfly.


Jamie takes a breather in the meadow to enjoy the view.  Jamie is a full-time resident of the Lake Chapala area and has become very active in the Ajijic Hiking Group. She was one of the passengers in my car, so we hiked together.


A mid-range telephoto shot of one of the mesas reveals its precipitous cliff face. There is a sub-set of expat hikers who specialize in rock climbing. I have occasionally accompanied them on their adventures, but technical climbing doesn't hold much appeal for me. The proper preparation and placement of equipment usually take a lot of time. I recognize the need for safety, but I just don't have the patience. Apparently, age doesn't affect their climbing performance. Several of the climbers are in their 70s and at least one is in his 80s.


An extreme telephoto shot of another cliff reveals a cave. At first glance, there appears to be a ledge leading to the dark cavity, but closer inspection suggests that it would not be a safe route. My best guess is that the cave is very shallow and was probably created when a boulder fell out.



Tithonia, or Mexican Sunflower, decorated our trail. No matter what the season, something is always blooming in our area of Mexico. Even in the parched, brown days of April and May--the hot season--various wildflowers seem to thrive. In the rainy season of summer and early fall, there is a riotous display. The center of distribution for Tithonia is Mexico, but some species grow in the Southwest US and others thrive in Central America.



A small waterfall pours out of a spring in an arroyo along our path. Jamie and I rejoined the rest of our hiking group near the trailhead. Rather than driving, most of them had walked down the cobblestone road to the floor of the canyon. It is a long trek, but all downhill and comfortable in the coolness of the morning. However,  Jamie and I had decided to drive down and park near the beginning of the river trail. I had remembered, all too clearly, my previous experience of hiking back up that long, shadeless road in the hot afternoon sun. As that prospect dawned upon my fellow hikers, several of them persuaded me to carry them up to the top. As for the rest, what can I say? Some hikers are born masochists.

This completes my posting on Cañon Leonera. I hope you enjoyed it and, if so, you will leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly.

If you leave a question in the Comments section, PLEASE leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim