Chetumal's Colorful Carnaval

A masked beauty rides one Chetumal's Carnaval floats. Although Carole and I were vaguely aware that Carnaval was approaching, we had no idea we would arrive right in the middle of the multi-day celebration. Instead, we had come to the Southern Yucatan Peninsula to explore the many ancient Maya ruins in the area. We needed a "base camp" for our visit and Chetumal turned out to be ideal.

The city is the capital of the Mexican state of Quintana Roo (pronounced "Keen-tana Row"). The Yucatan Peninsula contains three states: Yucatan in the north, Campeche in the southeast, and Quintana Roo, which stretches along the Caribbean shore and extends inland to meet Campeche in the south central area. This series will cover our exploration of southern Quintana Roo and eastern Campeche. To view this area on a Google map, click here.


Chetumal

The Palacio Gobierno faces Chetumal Bay, which opens onto the Caribbean Sea. The Bay, located at the southern tip of Quintana Roo, is shared with the neighboring country of Belize. Mexico's border with Belize is only a short distance from the city. The Palacio Gobierno (Government Palace) is the state capital building and is one of the few structures that we found to be architecturally interesting in Chetumal.

Founded in 1898, the city was originally called Payo Obispo (Bishop Payo). In 1936, the name was changed to Chetumal, in honor of ancient Chactemal. That Maya kingdom once included parts of southern Quintana Roo and northern Belize. Because Chetumal was not founded until the very end of the 19th century, the city lacks the graceful colonial-era buildings you find in Mérida,  Campeche, and other Peninsula cities.

Up until the middle of the 20th century, Chetumal did contain a lot of interesting Caribbean-style wooden structures. Unfortunately, these were largely swept away by two hurricanes in the 1940s and a huge Category 5 storm in 1955. Since then, structures here have been built using modern glass, steel, and cinderblock. Carole and I have a taste for Mexico's elegant colonial architecture, so we found Chetumal's buildings to be rather bland and uninteresting. Still, the city has lots of modern conveniences.

Our hotel, the Fiesta Inn, was clean, comfortable, up-to-date, relatively inexpensive, and had an excellent restaurant and off-street parking. The hotel also contained a branch office for National Car Rental. Its very efficient staff rented us a car for our visit. The hotel is only about a 15 minute drive from Chetumal's small, modern airport. All of this made the city an excellent base from which to explore the area.

Chetumal's malecon at dusk, looking east. Just about every coastal city in Mexico has a malecon, or waterfront walkway. The one in Chetumal is unusually long, making it the best feature of the city. Ideal for strollers, runners and bicyclers, the malecon winds for miles along the shoreline, past lighthouses, through mangrove swamps, and around out-thrusting points of land.  The early town was focused on fishing and seaborne commerce and therefore grew from the shoreline into the hinterlands.

Unlike Mexican cities of the colonial-era, there is no "centro historico" in Chetumal. Spanish King Phillip II issued his Law of the Indies in 1573, establishing a standardized urban plan for all Spain's colonies. Under it, all cities had to contain a plaza in their center, bordered by a government building, the main church, and the mansions of the wealthiest residents. Neighborhoods were built around this center in concentric circles, with the poorest people (usually indigenous) in the outermost areas. Since Chetumal was built almost entirely in the 20th and 21st centuries, it has no such urban plan. The closest thing to a centro is the area immediately around the Palacio, near the western end of the malecon. 

A statue honoring Chetumal's fishermen stands on the edge of the malecon. The fishing industry has been largely eclipsed by national and international trade, although the city still has many restaurants where you can get decent seafood. Quintana Roo only gained statehood in 1974. Most of it is still farmland or jungle, although the development of Playa del Carmen and other areas of the "Costa Maya" is proceeding rapidly.

Until about 1950, Chetumal's population was only about 5000 people and there were few passable roads between it and other parts of the Peninsula or Mexico. However, the city is now connected to a network of modern, well-maintained highways. One of the most important is Highway 307, which heads south from Cancun along the length of the Caribbean coast to Chetumal. The second is Highway 186, which heads east from Chetumal, across the neck of the Peninsula to the Gulf of Mexico. These two major routes enable commerce between Chetumal and other Peninsula cities, as well as with the rest of Mexico.

In addition to being the point where these two important highways intersect, Chetumal has also benefited from its proximity to Mexico's chief border crossing into Belize. Its strategic location, and its status as state capital, have brought much prosperity to the city. By 2010, Chetumal's population had grown to more than 150,000.

Ronald McDonald takes it easy on one of the malecon's benches. I am always amused by the quirky statues one finds in public places all over Mexico. There wasn't anyone selling burgers nearby, nor did the statue have any obvious commercial purpose. Ronald was just sitting there, evidently enjoying the hustle and bustle at the temporary booths set up along the malecon during Carnaval. Why is he there? The question can only be answered by a Mexican-style shrug of the shoulders and ¿quien sabe? (who knows?)

Garden hybrid Pelargonium, often mistaken for a geranium. My flower expert, Ron Parsons, identified this as a Pelargonium. He publishes a website called Wildflowers and Plants of Central Mexico and always comes through for me, even on the short notice I usually give him. Carole and I came upon this gorgeous flower as we strolled the malecon one evening. One of the many wonderful aspects of Mexico is that something is always blooming, no matter what time of year. We visited this area in February, when drifts of snow usually blanket much of the US and Canada. Yet, here, the weather was balmy, with beautifully blooming flowers greeting us at every turn.

The low, whining buzz of a drone attracted our attention during our malecon stroll. I know some people like these devices and perhaps they have some useful properties. Personally I find their sound annoying and their presence intrusive. This is especially true when the drone is armed with a video camera, as this one is. I used to be fairly good at skeet shooting. If it would not get me in serious trouble with the Mexican authorities (it would), I'd practice on these things when I encounter them. This particular model hovered over the malecon for some time, setting my teeth on edge. We finally moved down the shoreline to get away from the noise and the camera.

Sunset over the malecon, looking west. The long pier jutting out is the Water Taxi terminal. From there you can cross Chetumal Bay to Ambergris Caye and Caye Caulker, both in Belize.  What looks like a lighthouse is actually the Obelisco a la Bandera y El Reloj (Obelisk to the Flag and the Clock). The tall, four-sided obelisk was inaugurated in 1943. Engraved on three of the sides are the names of the heroes of the Independence War of 1810, the Reform War of 1857, and the Revolution of 1910. There is also a clock on all four sides. The monument withstood the great hurricanes of 1955, 1974, and 2007 and has become a symbol of the nation's strength. Some sources also claim that this is the very spot where the first rays of the dawning sun hit Mexico.


Floats of the Carnaval

A huge, colorful dragon adorned one float in the Carnaval parade. This guy was probably 5 m (15 ft) tall. We first learned about the parade when we checked into our hotel the afternoon we arrived. As it turned out, this was only one of five parades, held on successive evenings, each several hours long. The folks in Chetumal do know how to party!

The roots of Carnaval reach back to the ancient pagan rites of the Germanic tribes, during which they exuberantly celebrated the end of Winter's darkness and the beginning of Spring. Early Christian evangelists coopted these traditions, as they did with so many other pagan rituals. The Christian tradition observes Lent at the same time of seasonal change as the pagan festivals. However, Lent is marked by fasting, sober contemplation, and repentance. Carnaval, which became popular in the Middle Ages, is held just before Lent and is a way of saying "now is our last chance to get crazy and do something worth repenting!"

This woman's headdress looked to me like big feathered pineapple. Her young son's face is painted white with dots, giving him the appearance of a measles victim. You may notice that some of my photos appear to have been taken in daylight and others at night. The reason is that the shots were taken of parades on different days.

A cockatoo, parrot, and a toucan perch among jungle flowers. A group of young men in skin-tight red suits danced among them as the float slowly drifted by. While the crowds were thickest at the finish point of the parade, they thinned out the more I moved toward the start point. Toward the middle, they were only a couple of people deep, enabling me to get close enough for some good shots.

These young women cavorted at the rear of the bird float. As dusk fell, the lights of the floats came on, .accentuating the colors of the costumes. I am not quite certain what held the women's costumes together, given their navel-deep decolletage and vigorous dancing.

One of the floats with a pirate theme included this stack of skulls. Pirates ravaged the coasts of the Yucatan Peninsula from the 16th through the 18th centuries. Although Chetumal was built long after their menace had abated, piracy was a consistent theme during Carnaval. This might have something to so with piracy's romantic freedom from restraint. One of the skulls has a "nine-ball" cap. In one of many versions of the game of pool, sinking the nine ball is the winning shot.

An angel with golden wings gave me a sweet smile as she rode by. On this warm, sultry evening, her costume was probably more comfortable than those worn by other dancers who were clothed from head to foot. Also, she could simply stand on her float and spread her wings, while the dancers in the street were getting a real workout.

An elderly man in a silver top-hat waves to the crowd. The young girl next to him, probably his granddaughter, looks like a bored princess. Granddad, on the other hand, is having the time of his life.

A self-propelled float. I thought this was the most unusual float in the entire parade. The woman moves the wheeled vehicle by pushing the handles. Even though the route led downhill, it looked like a lot of work. The float appeared again, the second night I attended, but was propelled by a different woman.


The Dancers

Thumbs up! During a pause in the parade, I zoomed my camera in on this girl. Noticing my camera, she gave me a dazzling smile and two thumbs up. This photo captures the whole feel of Chetumal's Carnaval. Everyone, participants and spectators alike, seemed to be having wonderful time.

Following each float was a troupe of dancers. I thought the spectacular costumes and coordinated moves of this troupe deserved some sort of prize. The crowd apparently agreed, because these dancers got more applause than any other.

Several of the dancers were kids on stilts! Just walking on stilts this high would be quite a feat, particularly without using your hands for support. Watching the kids dance to music was extraordinary and I hoped they, too, might get some kind of prize. If one of them tripped, however, I suspected the stilt-walker would make quite a thump upon impacting the asphalt.

A multi-colored array. Some floats focused colored lights on the dancers who followed them, creating unusual effects. Just behind this group, you can see the white marquee of the Museo de la Cultura Maya (Museum of the Maya Culture). If you happen to pass through Chetumal, it is well worth a visit.

The dance troupes included young boys and girls, as well as adults. Some of the kids had obviously practiced a lot and were nearly as good as the adults. Clearly, all the participants had invested a great deal of attention and effort in their costumes and dance routines.

Swirling dresses and twirling bodies moved down the street. These dancers, dressed in electric blue, were particularly eye-catching. Their head dresses reminded me of the feathers on the cockatoo in the float seen earlier. The shoes worn by these dancers don't look very comfortable for the distance they had to cover.

Upon spotting my camera, these young guys immediately formed up for a photo. They had probably posed like this hundreds of times before I showed up. Their multi-colored capes were particularly striking.

A pensive dancer takes a break. Notice how the makeup on her face and neck complements her costume. My only regret is that I have so little space to display the photos I took during these parades. There were many more floats and dancers than I can show here, so you'll just have to go and see Chetumal's Carnaval for yourself.

This completes the first of my Southern Yucatan Peninsula series. In Part 2, we'll visit Oxtankah, an ancient Maya city on the shore of Chetumal Bay, a few miles north of the city. I hope you have enjoyed learning about Chetumal and its Carnaval. If so, please leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below, or email me directly.

If you leave a question, PLEASE provide your email address so I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

The hike to Rio Negro's steaming hot waterfall

Billows of steam rise from Rio Negro's remarkable hot waterfall. The scalding hot water comes from springs further up the arroyo. Three of my friends and I visited the falls during a hike into the Bosque de la Primavera (Forest of the Spring). It is the huge public/private park located just west of Guadalajara. The many hot springs in the Bosque are the result of a long history of volcanism.

Map showing Bosque de la Primavera in relation to Guadalajara. The growth of Guadalajara has always been limited by deep canyons to the north and east and the high, mountainous plateau of the Bosque de la Primavera on the west. In the map above, the Bosque is the dark green area to the left of the city, covering an area almost as large as Guadalajara itself. We entered Bosque de la Primavera through La Venta de Astillero, at the northern border of the park. The mountains within the forest are the darkest green and are surrounded by rolling plateaus covered with forests of pine and oak. There is little underbrush on the plateaus, so the forests have an open feel that I find very refreshing. Numerous canyons and arroyos cut through the Bosque's soft volcanic earth. Some of them are formed by water flowing from hot springs. Chief among these is Rio Caliente (Hot River), which is located in the north central part of the park and flows roughly from east to west. Rio Negro is one of Rio Caliente's feeder streams.

My hiking companions, taking a breather. Steve (left) is a "sunbird" from Florida, who comes to Lake Chapala during the summer to escape the brutal heat and humidity of his state. Jim B (center) is a Texan and, like me, a full-timer in Mexico. Richard (right) is another sunbird the fleeing heat, and is also from Texas.

Rio Caliente

Rio Caliente is quite shallow in most places, even during the rainy season. I have hiked along this river numerous times, as well as in other areas of the park. There are trails on both sides of the river, as well as a dirt road that parallels it a short distance away. While there is very little elevation gain, the trails are quite rocky and require you to cross and re-cross the river several times. Good footgear, preferably with lug soles and ankle support, is essential.

Steam rises from the river. It is particularly visible during cooler weather. Rio Caliente, despite the name, is warm rather than hot. The really hot water comes from the feeder streams. In various scenic spots along Rio Caliente, natural pools draw folks looking for a soothing soak. In other places, nature has received a little human help in the form of small, rustic dams.

Nopal cactus, festooned with small, round tunas. Both the flat nopal paddles (leaves) and the tunas (fruit), are highly edible. Nopal, also called the Prickly Pear cactus, grows in many areas of Mexico and has been a staple of the Mexican diet for thousands of years. It is highly nutritious and contains anti-oxidants, vitamins, minerals, and fibre. Ripe tunas are sweetly delicious. However--as with the paddles--care must be taken to shave off the tiny spines on the cactus' skin. The flat nopal paddles can be roasted, boiled, sauteed, or--my preference--sliced in thin strips and eaten raw. They are tart, crunchy, and quite tasty when served this way in a salad or as an hors d'oeuvre.

The river passes over a series of small, scenic waterfalls. After a long hike, it is a real treat to sit in a shallow pool like this, with the warm water rushing over your shoulders. We came upon this one early in our hike, however, and did not pause to sample its pleasures.

Jim B leads the way on one of the many river crossings. Another essential item, particularly on this route, is one or more hiking poles. They help you keep your balance so you avoid unintentional tumbles into the water. The poles can also be used to test the water's depth and probe rocks to check their stability. Hikers in my area carry poles that range from inexpensive to costly. The store-bought version can run from $15-$60 USD (or more). I prefer the former, which can easily be made from old broom handles tipped with rubber footings. The handles I get for free from the trash and the footings can be obtained from most ferreterías (hardware stores) for the peso equivalent of 35 cents USD. Each to his own.


Rio Negro

Rio Negro flows up from the south to join Rio Caliente. Rio Negro gets its name from the black appearance of the water, a consequence of the dark algae that grows at the bottom. This river is genuinely hot. A warning sign in the area lists the temperature as 80 degrees Celsius (176 Fahrenheit). As you ascend the river, and get closer to the springs, the water temperature increases.

Further upstream, I gingerly make my way across the river. Richard's photo caught me in mid-stride. A spot like this is where hiking poles are of critical importance. Falling in at this point could cause significant burns and we were not close to any medical help. In the photo above, my feet are on the last two large rocks in the water. I was a little nervous about how wobbly they were. Above me, Jim B keeps a close eye on my progress. My broomstick pole is several inches longer than the store-bought models and the reach it gives me is an advantage in situations like this. Thankfully, everyone made it across without incident.

Jim B pushes his way through dense forest toward a huge plume of steam. We have reached the hot waterfall! The Rio Negro arroyo gradually narrows and, at this point, the canyon walls are only about 15m (45 ft) apart. Just a short distance ahead, they close in even further. In the Bosque, only the deep, well-watered arroyos contain the sort of jungle typical of Lake Chapala's mountains.

Rio Negro's hot falls rush through a narrow rock slot. Above, Jim B relaxes while Steve tries to get a decent photo. However, the steam billowing around us made photography challenging. Unfortunately, Steve's camera malfunctioned and he came away with no pictures of the adventure. Notice how dramatically the rays of sunlight cut down through the steam. If you are patient and position yourself correctly (and your camera doesn't crap out), the hot falls can yield some very nice photos.

Bromeliads coated the branches of trees overhanging the falls. Bromeliads (Bromeliacea) are common in this part of Mexico. The species shown above are epiphytes, which are non-parasitic organisms that grow on other organisms but draw their nourishment from the air, rainwater, or from debris that collects around them. Bromeliads are able to thrive in amazingly diverse environments. These range from sea level to 4200 meters (13,780 ft) and from cloud forests to deserts.


The Return Hike

Steve explores the mouth of Rio Negro, where it meets Rio Caliente. The larger river flows in at the center-right of the photo. Its greenish-brown color contrasts with the black hue of Rio Negro, seen in the foreground.

Algae at the bottom of Rio Negro. The algae in the shallows is not black, but sort of a greenish yellow. This photo reminded me a bit of a Jackson Pollack painting.

Steve takes in the view, while I study a possible river crossing. Here, you can get a sense of the rocky nature of the river trail. It had been a gorgeous day, warm but not too hot, with gentle breezes.

The camping and picnic areas of the Bosque are popular with the locals. However, for some reason, we rarely encounter Mexicans further into the Bosque's wilderness, other than farmers or cowboys.This mob of kids was accompanied by several adults. Since most of the kids were wearing identical t-shirts, it was probably an outing by a school or other kind of organization. Kids being kids, some were full of antics while others looked on shyly. The adults encouraged everyone to gather in for our photos. The scene above captures the typical warm friendliness of the Mexican people. I am always amazed at how wonderfully Americans are treated here, despite the awful way that Mexicans are treated by the US government and--in all too many cases--by people in the US.

After the hike, my faithful Toyota RAV4 ferried us to lunch in the nearby town of Tala. Years ago, after a similar hike, we asked someone at Tala's plaza where to find a good restaurant. They directed us to La Huerta de Vega (The Orchard of the Vega Family). Behind the wall is a large open-air space, shaded by an arbor of vines. Metal tables and plastic chairs stand on a dirt floor. The atmosphere is very rustic, but the food is good, plentiful, and remarkably inexpensive. There was even a musician who played guitar and sang for tips.

Kickin' back and swappin' lies. Sometimes this seems like the best part of a hike. We were pleasantly tired but full of memories of a spectacular day. Tales (some of them even true!) of our previous hikes and other adventures in Mexico were shared around the table. Life is good!

This completes my posting on the hot waterfall of Rio Negro. I hope you have enjoyed coming along on the trek. If so, please leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below or reply directly by email. If you leave a question, PLEASE leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

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 skyward.  Pitayo (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