Among the curiosities that Wright encountered during his two field trips in the 1970s to the woods around the little town of Tala, were rock formations that less scientific nature lovers have dubbed “fairy footstools.”

Typically they look like nicely rounded tree stumps, perhaps a foot or two high. The casual observer first sees them as cut trees, but on closer observation, they discover that they are made of stone.

In his book on Volcanic Successions, published in 1987, Wright calls them steam pipes or paleo-fumarolic pipes, formed eons ago when water vapor percolated upward through thick layers of hot ash.

 “The steam bubbles,” says Wright, “altered the ash chemically, precipitating minerals harder than the surrounding ash. Wherever bubbles rose, smooth cylinders of rock perhaps over 20 meters in length, were created beneath the surface.”

The Great Wall of Pipes

The most notable collection of steam pipes is conveniently located near Parque Recreativo La Hiedra, a campsite in the Primavera Forest located 21 kilometers west of Guadalajara.  Alongside this park runs El Río Salado, the Salty River, whose waters are a pleasant 25 degrees Celsius.

The park has dammed the river in two places to create large pools for swimming and has an extensive flat area, perfect for camping.

The Great Wall of Pipes is located 300 meters downstream. It is about 70 meters long and 25 high and is filled with hundreds of big cylinders of rock, all of them lying on their sides. This has left scientists baffled. The theory of steam bubbles rising through hot ash would result in vertical pipes, not horizontal ones. But similar walls of horizontal pipes — not as large as this one — have been found all around the Tala area, casting doubt on the theory of how the pipes were formed.

 “New theories are being proposed,” says Wright, “theories that the percolation was downward — or perhaps every which way. More study is required.”

Just how it was formed remains a mystery, but one thing is certain, adds Wright: “Nothing like the Great Wall has ever been described in the literature. It appears to be unique.”

Ghosts, goblins, and happiness

Apart from ”fairy footstools,” the environs of Tala host “goblins.” These are bizarrely shaped rocks named after similar features seen in Goblin Canyon Park, New Mexico. Unlike the pipes, these are roughly textured rocks that may take many shapes, for example, tall stately spires or curvy meandering walls, which you’d swear were man-made. Other bizarre forms may remind you of a sofa, an armchair, or a spooky version of SpongeBob Squarepants.

The best place to see the full range of these weird formations is a failed subdivision called Villa Felicidad, located directly east of Tala. Here you can drive to a path through what I call The Garden of Ghostly Delights which will take you to a tall spire known as el “Rey de los Duendes,” the King of the Goblins.

Along this short two-kilometer trail, you can see the full gamut of rock formations created by the bubbling action of steam trapped under a blanket of hot ash nearly 100,000 years ago.

The bizarre Martian Eyes

Of particular interest is the Little Wall of Martian Eyes. Yes, it’s another set of horizontally oriented pipes that definitely look like they come from another planet.

This trail parallels el “Río De Las Ánimas,” the River of Ghosts, so named because it runs through many kilometers of strange stone figures which, if seen at dusk might convince anyone that they had wandered into the realm of the undead.

Because the River of Ghosts is born inside the protected Primavera Forest, it is completely free of pollution from human sources and its mild temperature invites you to jump right in.

This path, by the way, forms one small section of a great bicycle trail called La Ruta del Gigante, The Route of the Giant. Maintained and promoted by the city of Tala, this 20-kilometer loop offers the perfect way to acquaint you with the Ghost and Goblin Park.

The Agua Dulce River is born

At the northern edge of the Kingdom of Ghosts and Goblins lies the Agua Dulce Park and Campsite. This is perhaps the best place to camp inside the Primavera Forest. The park is named after “the Río Agua Dulce ,” or Sweet Water River, which originates within the confines of this campsite. Drinkable, delicious, crystal clear, cold water bubbles out of the ground here, a curiosity in an area dominated by hot rivers.

Besides a natural swimming hole, this site offers restrooms, ponies, a zipline, and a high watchtower from which you can see clear across the forest to Tequila Volcano on the horizon.

A hike from Agua Dulce to the Salty River (the continuation of Rio Caliente) will take you past a nice selection of goblins and pipes. The pipes are large and lie neither horizontally nor vertically but somewhere in between, just to give the researchers another headache.

The Ghost and Goblin Park is huge, covering an area of more than 80 square kilometers.

A unique natural marvel

“The next largest place displaying these phenomena is Goblin Canyon New Mexico, which measures less than a square kilometer in size, a magnitude smaller than what you will find in Jalisco,” says John Wright.

Could there be another site like this somewhere else in the world?

 “We’ve been looking,” says Wright. “New Zealand has the perfect conditions for this, but if they had pipes and goblins, we would have seen photos by now. South America is another good candidate, but it’s crawling with geologists and none have reported anything like this. At the moment, Tala seems the world champion: the largest paleo-fumarolic area known on the planet.”

 “And then, it has the Great Wall of Pipes,” adds Wright, with a sparkle in his eye. “Where else are you going to find something like that?” 

John Pint has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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This is problematic because the whole state of San Luis Potosí is famed for its breathtaking landscapes, especially when it comes to fantastic waterfalls, rivers and cliffs — not to mention surrealist sculpture gardens.

To assist you in making that choice, I have enlisted the help of Lori Jones, a native of San Luis who is also a highly experienced, certified tour guide.

Las Cascadas de Tamasopo: stunningly beautiful

“Of all the places we take people,” Jones told me, “this is my very favorite. The Tamasopo falls lie at the eastern end of the state of San Luis Potosí, in the great, untamed Huasteca Wilderness.”

At Tamasopo you’ll find three stunningly beautiful waterfalls to explore and swim under, along with other small pools and rivers. The place is almost like a water park, but the falls, pools and water slides are natural. In addition, there are jumping platforms and bridges at various heights, plus ropes to swing from.

Just a few kilometers from Tamasopo there is another swimming attraction called Puente de Diós (God’s Bridge), a pool of crystal-clear water that extends into a cave.

“To get to the Puente de Diós,” Jones told me, “you have to walk down 300 steps. The problem is not going down, but climbing back up! Not everyone is in shape for doing this, so I offer an alternative, a nearby place called Cascaditas where we can stroll alongside the river, which is full of lovely little waterfalls. It’s a leisurely walk where you can stop and go into the pools and falls, and the area is relatively flat, so you don’t have to negotiate any steps. About 50 percent of the people I take there prefer this option.”

The Tamasopo area is a three-hour drive from San Luis, making for a full day’s activity.

Hike to Wirikuta, the Wixárikas’ sacred mountain

This is a 15-kilometer hike from the unique old mining town of Real de Catorce to the Cerro del Quemado, also known as Wirikuta, one of the five sacred places of the Wixárika (Huichol) people. According to Wixárika cosmology, this is the place where the world was created. Today it is protected as a UNESCO Natural Sacred Area.

“This hike,” says Jones, “takes two and a half hours or three, depending on how fast you walk—because here you are hiking at an altitude of 2,700 meters (nearly 9000 feet) so most people have to walk very slowly. On top of the mountain you can see concentric circles of stone where the Wixárika do a cleansing, coming-of-age ceremony for their young men each year. This is a tough hike and you can choose to do it on your own two feet or on horseback. Personally, I do it on horseback.”

Other excursions from Real de Catorce include a hike or horseback ride to El Pueblo Fantásma. “It’s not really a ghost town,” says Jones, “but the picturesque ruins of an important silver mine. It’s at an altitude of 3000 meters, which is nearly 10,000 feet high.”

Row upriver to the Tamul Falls

“The Cascada de Tamul is a four-and-a-half-hour drive from town,” says Jones, “so we start out early. We stop for breakfast at 7:00 at a place in Río Verde famed for its gorditas. So we reach the river around 11 a.m. and we paddle up to the Tamul waterfall, which is an impressive 105 meters high and 300 wide. You have to row against the current for about maybe one hour or more—It’s not so easy. Everybody helps to paddle, otherwise we can’t make it all the way to the waterfall!”

Paddling gets you to within 50 meters of the waterfall. “From there,” says Jones, “you can take pictures and swim. The other day I took some people from Poland to this place and when we arrived there we found only some Germans, nobody else. So, going on a weekday has big advantages: we practically had the place to ourselves and everyone went swimming. Then, on the way back, we stopped and walked up a mountainside to a place they call La Cueva Del Agua and here you can swim inside the cave.”

The mezcal and pulque route

“For a change of pace,” Jones told me, “I suggest a special visit we organize to give people a first-hand look at how mezcal and pulque are produced. For this we head for the municipality of Mexquitic, located just a half-hour drive from San Luis.”

Mexquitic is famed for its “high-desert mezcal,” made from the salmiana agave, said to suggest “the taste of fresh green chili, vibrant grapefruit peel and agave after a rainfall.” The process for making it has been a family secret going back 200 years.

“Beside touring this venerable distillery,” said Jones, “we also visit the family of Señora Flor and we join her in collecting aguamiel, which is very sweet and good to drink. The aguamiel is then fermented to produce pulque, which is — and has been for hundreds of years — a traditional drink for the people who work in the fields, who say it gives you lots of energy. At Señora Flor’s house we have an opportunity to taste fine pulque and to discover why it is so popular.”

The Garden of Surrealist Cultures

Las Pozas, Edward James’ unique “garden” in Xilitla might not seem to fit into a list of hikes, but, says Lori Jones, “Lots of walking is required to see it, because you have to go up and down many paths and staircases, spread around 37 hectares of subtropical rainforest.” 

“Note that these are not sculptures, but structures,” Jones says. “There is one called ‘the house that looks like it has five floors but only has three.’  And then there is ‘the house that looks like it has three floors but actually has five.’ San Luis Potosí is filled with fascinating places to visit, but Xilitla is in a class all its own.”

John Pint has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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I visited Monroy at his rustic studio in the foothills of the Primavera Forest, just west of Guadalajara. As the painter picked tomatoes from his garden, he described the watercolors he had chosen for this event.

“I am presenting 18 originals,” he told me “all with the theme of pre-Hispanic Jalisco. This includes circular pyramids, shaft tombs, obsidian, the ancient ball game Ulama and scenes of everyday life 2,000 years ago.”

Maize: made in Mexico

In these scenes of daily life, Monroy gives special importance to maíz (corn).

“The most important painting for this event,” the artist told me, “shows a woman lovingly caring for a maize plant with a view of the Great Lake of Magdalena (drained by the Spaniards) in the background. You can see their colorful houses in the distance and people planting corn. This is a scene that could have taken place 3,000 years ago.”

The process of breeding maize, in fact, started much earlier than that, perhaps as long as 9,000 years ago.

“The domestication of corn took place in Mexico and there is some evidence that it may have occurred right here in what we now call Jalisco,” the painter told me. “This, I consider Mexico’s most important contribution to humanity because today maize is the most cultivated food on the planet. Our ancestors started out as hunters and gatherers, nomads, but then they came upon a grass that they called teocintle and they began to cultivate and domesticate it.”

Domestication, Monroy pointed out, required saving seeds from plants with the biggest, best and most kernels. “This they did year after year,” he says, “and created corn as we know it today. Originally, teocintle had only about 12 kernels, hard enough to break your teeth. Compare that to what we call maíz today!”

Secrets of the shaft tomb

In another of his watercolors, Monroy takes us inside a shaft tomb, a peculiar tradition of West Mexico that was in vogue from around 300 B.C. to 400 A.D.

“In this painting,” said Monroy, “I have recreated a ceremony that must have taken place inside all the shaft tombs: what we think of today as a funeral. They had special ceramics for this occasion and a whole host of items that would be buried alongside the corpse, things representing the deceased’s tastes and preferences.”

The shaft tombs were deep holes, just over a meter wide, dug into the soft volcanic tuff so common in West Mexico.

With one to three burial chambers at the bottom, the shaft might have been two to 22 meters deep, perhaps a kind of insurance policy meant to protect the tombs from looting. Unfortunately, this strategy has not dissuaded modern tomb raiders, who have beaten the archaeologists to the bottom of almost every shaft tomb known.

Fortunately, in 1993 an untouched tomb was found at Huizilapa, Jalisco, located just northwest of Tequila.

This shaft was 7.6 meters deep and had two chambers. Six individuals were found, three in each chamber, together with rich offerings. The body of the most important individual in the tomb was, according to archaeologist Eduardo Williams, “elaborately adorned with jade and shell bracelets, nose-rings, earrings, greenstone beads, carved jade pendants and a cloth sewn with thousands of shell beads. Conch shells ornamented with painted stucco had been placed on his loins and at his sides, along with atlatl hooks.”

Incredible as it may sound, over 60,000 artifacts were discovered inside the Huitzilapa tomb.

Pre-Hispanic restaurant

Jorge Monroy’s new collection of paintings will be on display in Guadalajara’s Casa Feria, which hosts cultural events including concerts, plays and book launches. Casa Feria is also a restaurant — open only on weekends — specializing in pre-Hispanic food. This means that visitors to the painting exhibit can wander about, immersing themselves in a world of ancient customs and after that, enjoy a pre-Hispanic meal. 

From Beethoven to Jazz

The watercolor exhibit is just the first of many events taking place in Guadalajara throughout May.

On May 7, 8 and 9, the city will celebrate the 200th anniversary of the premiere performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. On these nights the “Choral Symphony” will be played at the city’s celebrated Degollado Theatre, followed by all of Beethoven’s 32 sonatas between the 12th and 23rd of May, at the same venue. 

Dozens of other cultural activities will take place throughout the rest of the month, everything from 3D Street Art and a concert by the GRAMMY-winning Attacca Quartet to the premiere of a “Jalisco Jazz Suite” by Guadalajara’s Arturo de la Torre Jazz Orchestra.

To learn about all 34 cultural events taking place in and around Guadalajara during the month of May, see the official page of the Festival Cultural de Mayo en Jalisco.

John Pint has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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“The campers were hunters,” Lloyd told me, “which I might expect, but the surprising thing was that the hunters were biologists and veterinarians and their rifles contained not bullets but darts.”

Still more surprising was what the men were hunting: jaguars.

“Every year,” Lloyd told me, “these hunters tranquilize the jaguars, weigh them, measure them and see how they are doing.”

That lonely campsite, it turned out, was located inside the Reserva Jaguar del Norte ( Northern Jaguar Reserve), a most unusual jaguar sanctuary: 24,400 hectares in size, with no surrounding fences around it. The biologists told the geologists that they worked regularly with cattle ranchers outside the Reserve, showing them better ways to manage their livestock.

“They’ve convinced them,” says Lloyd, “to create new water holes on their ranch land and not send all the cows off to one common hole where it would be easy for the jaguar just to sit and wait for dinner to arrive. They also reintroduced peccaries and explained to the ranchers: ‘Look, these peccaries are not for you to hunt, they’re for the jaguars to hunt — and then they’ll leave your cows alone.’”

Other strategies suggested to the ranchers include moving cattle to better-guarded pastures and keeping pregnant cows near the ranch instead of out in the middle of nowhere. In some cases the simple construction of scarecrows or the use of cowbells can make a big difference.

Viviendo con Felinos (Living with Felines) is the name of another successful program initiated by conservationists in the area.

Cats caught by camera trap

Ranchers sign a contract not to hunt, trap or molest the great cats in their area, as well as the peccaries and deer that they prey on. Camera traps are then placed on their properties and the owners receive monthly payments — monetary or in the form of ranch goods — for photos of jaguars, ocelots, bobcats and mountain lions. In some cases this could add up to as much as 20,000 pesos per month, allowing some ranchers to stay in Mexico instead of being forced to seek work in the United States.

The photos of cats, taken on ranchers’ own properties, have impacted participants in this program. Some have named the feline visitors after their own children. Some have given them honorifics: Doña Eduarda, Don Julio and Don Pablo, for example. Thanks to the photographs, unknown potential threats have been transformed into welcome new members of the family.

Birth of the Sonora jaguar sanctuary

After years of pioneering work in Sonora by researchers like Carlos López and David Brown, authors of the book “Borderland Jaguars,” the Northern Jaguar Reserve became a reality in 2003, when Mexican NGO Naturalia purchased Rancho Los Pavos, which is 4,000 hectares in size. 

Naturalia was founded in 1990 under the leadership of Dr. Bernardo Villa, a researcher at the Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), to protect and conserve wild species and ecosystems in Mexico.

I asked Naturalia wildlife biologist Saúl Amador how they managed to raise the money to buy their first ranch land.

A little help from African Safari and Leonardo

“To purchase Rancho Los Pavos,” says Amador, “we held a campaign in Mexico City and other places, asking for donations. It was a big success! We received help from everywhere, including organizations like African Safari. On top of that, the Bank of Mexico created commemorative silver coins, whose sales really helped this project. Today this kind of support continues, as we expand the Protected Area. For example, the Leonardo DiCaprio Foundation is helping us buy and register our most recent properties: 1,800 hectares, which will become the Babizalito and Carrizal reserves.”

Once Naturalia had bought the land and removed the cattle, the biologists initiated measures for conservation.

“Using camera traps,” Amador told me, “we observed not only jaguars but ocelots and pumas, as well as these animals’ prey, such as the collared peccary, whitetail deer and wild turkey.”

From desert tortoises to military macaws

Today, the species protected inside the Northern Jaguar Reserve include the neotropical river otter, badger, coyote, rattlesnake and desert tortoises, not to mention native bird species like the bald eagle, elegant trogon and military macaw. On top of that, the reserve is a stopover for migratory birds like the Cooper’s hawk and the willow flycatcher.

In other parts of Sonora, Naturalia works in the enchanting Sierra de Álamos-Río Cuchujaqui Biosphere Reserve, which covers almost 93,000 hectares and hosts a wealth of key species like puma, jaguar, ocelot and kinkajous. 

The organization has also been working for seven years with Yaqui people in the Sierra del Bacatete reserve, helping them carry out big cat monitoring on their land and showing the community how to use camera traps.

Jaguars and ranchers walking together

“What are your plans for the future?” I asked Amador.

“Our new project,” replied the biologist, “is called Operation Jaguar. We want to replicate our Sonora successes in other parts of Mexico, starting in Nayarit and the Yucatán Peninsula. It’s the same idea. We want to talk to ranchers, not about eliminating cattle ranching but modifying some of their practices, which will also benefit their work.”

One Sonoran rancher summed up this unusual conservation project nicely: “We can achieve a balance between ranching and the preservation of native species. Jaguars and ranchers will walk together.”

John Pint has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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Today you can repeat Kino’s feat—but via a much more hiker-friendly route—thanks to an organization called Adixion, which operates out of Mexicali. Their Coast to Coast trail is 111 kilometers long and is perhaps the most popular of very few organized trekking routes to be found in Mexico.

Retired Guadalajara businessman Hector Casas walked this trail last year and claims it was one of the best experiences of his life.

“So what’s so special about trekking in Baja California?” I asked him.

“Baja California has always been one of my favorite places,” Casas replied. “Just for starters, take the Sea of Cortez. Jacques Cousteau called it the World’s Aquarium. Its turquoise waters are filled with thousands of amazing and rare species of sea creatures. But in addition to marine life, I love the desert, the cacti, the dunes. So I decided to give this route a try, to see if I could walk all the way from one coast to the other.

Surrounded by spectacular mountains and a salty lake

“I found out that Adixion Tours organizes the walk every year in November. They only do it in the winter because in the summer the temperature in the peninsula can reach 45 Celsius (113 Fahrenheit). In the winter, however, it’s a pleasant 24 C (75 F), with partly cloudy skies and even a bit of drizzle.”

Participants in the trek typically fly to Tijuana and travel to Mexicali by bus via what Casas describes as a “beautiful route through the Rumorosa Mountains, which are really spectacular on the Mexican side.”

Step two is a four-hour trip by bus and four-wheel-drive which passes through Baja’s celebrated Laguna Salada (Salty Lake) situated ten meters below sea level, finally arriving at the trek’s Kilometer Zero: Altamira Beach on the Pacific Coast.

“Here,” says Casas, “we found our tents already pitched for us and a great dinner to boot. I was surprised to find that one hundred people had signed up to do this trek. The next morning, after a delicious breakfast, we all went to touch the water of the Pacific Ocean and at 7:00 a.m. we started to walk.

50 kilometers of “la pura gloria”

“The trail is well marked. There’s no chance of getting lost, which is important because sometimes you find yourself walking all alone with no one else in sight ahead or behind. This trek was so well organized, I never had to carry anything on my back but water and I really didn’t need it because every five kilometers they have a checkpoint set up, with fruit and drinks, and at certain points there’s even a tent with paramedics ready to take care of possible blisters or whatever. So at each of these spots I would stop, take off my shoes and socks, and enjoy the refreshments. It was la pura gloria, pure glory! That’s how it went the first day and at 6:30 p.m. I arrived at the Mission of San Borja, 50 kilometers from my starting point.”

5-star hotel in the desert

Here the weary trekkers found their tents set up for them, each containing all their personal gear. At San Borja they could take a shower and then enjoy a fine dinner, such as spaghetti, fettucini, or fish fillets. Vegetarians, vegans, or anyone with a special diet could expect a meal designed just for them. “As far as I was concerned,” said Casas, “this was a five-star hotel in the desert.”

“The next morning we were back on the trail at 7:00,” continues Casas. “Everyone was friendly and I would sometimes chat with them or other times I would just appreciate the scenery by myself and enjoy moments of introspection.”

El cirio: the strangest tree on earth

On this second day, the trekkers entered El Valle de los Cirios (The Valley of the Candles) a wildlife protection area famed for what is often considered the strangest tree on earth: the “cirio” or “boojum” tree, a magnificent succulent — said to resemble an upside-down carrot — which can grow to an astonishing height of 26 meters (85 feet).

According to the international organization Wildcoast, Valle de los Cirios is globally unique: “There may be no other place that embodies the wild Pacific coastal landscapes of the Baja California peninsula than Valle de los Cirios… With some luck and a lot of patience, a visitor can catch glimpses of mule deer, kit foxes, bobcats, and stealthy mountain lions that wander among the giant Cardon cactus and fantastical cirios or boojum trees.”

A sky filled with stars

Trekkers who found the going difficult also found an easy solution to their problem. All they had to do is wait for a barredora, (a sweeper). This was a four-wheel-drive vehicle that would pick up those who no longer wanted to walk. “We all understood,” said Casas, “that this was no competition, but rather a personal challenge. No one cared who arrived first.”

Entranced by the bizarre forest of boojum trees, the trekkers arrived at Agua de Higueras, “a little valley in the middle of nowhere, with no one to be seen but us trekkers.” Here the participants enjoyed a sky full of stars along with a spectacular display of meteorites. In this remote spot there was no cell phone service, but the tour organizers used satellite phones to communicate with the outside world.

“I couldn’t resist poking my head out of my tent at 2:00 in the morning, just for another look at that incredible sky,” says Casas.

The next day, a final 30-kilometer walk brought the trekkers to the Bay of Los Angeles on the Sea of Cortez… and a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

“I loved this trek,” said Hector Casas with a wistful look in his eye. “I loved it so much that I’ve signed up to do it again this coming November!”

If you’d like more information on the upcoming 2024 trek, visit the Baja Coast to Coast website.

John Pint has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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The biggest deposits of obsidian on this planet, he said, are found in the U.S. in the great plateau of Oregon. The next largest are in South Africa and then in Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula, with the Mexican state of Jalisco taking fourth place on the world stage.

Jalisco: Mexico’s obsidian heartland

“Jalisco has 54 deposits, but more are being found all the time” says the professor. A case in point is the Sierra de Ahuisculco Wildlife Reserve (Selva Negra) whose obsidian fields are presently being studied for the first time: “More than 300 hectares of high-grade black and red obsidian have been mapped so far—dotted with hundreds of old mines and workshops—and the outer limits of the deposit have not yet been reached.”

“Thanks to the discovery of two Clovis points [traditional speartips] in Jalisco,” Esparza went on, “we know for sure that obsidian was being worked in this part of Mexico ten thousand years ago. The Clovis points date back to Pleistocene times and were found at San Marcos Lake, just west of Lake Chapala.”

The sharpest blades in the world

When it comes to producing a sharp edge, nothing beats obsidian. It is, after all, natural glass, and like all glass it has no crystalline structure. This means there is no limit to how far you can sharpen an obsidian knife. So, obsidian spearheads, blades, and scrapers have a keener edge than their metal counterparts. The Spaniards learned this the first time they encountered the macuahuitl, the meter-long native Mexican sword which was flat and made of wood, with incredibly sharp obsidian blades set into grooves along the edges and glued in place with natural asphalt (bitumen).

The macuahuitl was so deadly that with one blow a warrior could cut off a man’s leg or decapitate a horse, as Spanish conquistador Bernal Diaz Del Castillo, witnessed:

“Pedro de Morón was a very good horseman, and as he charged with three other horsemen into the ranks of the enemy the Indians seized hold of his lance and he was not able to drag it away, and others gave him cuts with their broadswords, and wounded him badly, and then they slashed at the mare, and cut her head off at the neck so that it hung by the skin, and she fell dead.”

Ancient artisans and the art of working obsidian

An obsidian knife could be made by knapping or chipping away at a chunk of obsidian, just as was done with flint over ages, but eventually, artisans discovered a much more efficient procedure: percussion. At the site of an obsidian mine, they would extract a piece of the material weighing perhaps eight kilos and give it a conical shape with a flat bottom. This is what archaeologists call a core. 

The most promising cores would then be carried off to an artisan sitting beneath a tree. He would place the piece, tip downward, between his legs and with a deer horn, apply pressure to the right spot on the flat surface, popping off a long, thin blade. This technique resulted in elegant prismatic blades that had two naturally sharp edges.

The many colors of obsidian

Although most of the world’s obsidian is black, it also comes in colors. In Jalisco alone, Rodrigo Esparza has come upon more than 25 colors, such as marbled red, blue, green and even white, as well as a mix of colors known as rainbow.

“Obsidian also comes in a variety of sheens, including silver and gold, which can only be appreciated when you move the piece in the sunlight.”

Mexican artisans have always appreciated the beauty of obsidian and have used it not only to sculpt statues but also to produce fine jewelry.

“In shaft tomb burials 2000 years old, we found amazingly thin pieces of obsidian, perhaps three centimeters in diameter, but less than two millimeters in thickness,” Esparza says. “Some were perfectly round discs and others had the shape of animals or humans. They looked very much like charms, each inevitably perforated by a tiny hole. At first, we thought the discs might be mirrors, but they were too small for that. It soon became clear that they were something like spangles that could be strung together to make a necklace, bracelet, or an elaborate pectoral. Perhaps these were sewn on clothing to give a sort of Elvis Presley effect. I’ve written a paper on the clever percussion technique they probably used to get such thin flakes. No modern artisan knows how to make obsidian so thin … and, much less, how to put a hole in it!”

Obsidian workshops today

Today’s artisans use modern techniques for working obsidian, but their creations are no less surprising and attractive than the ancient ones. 

An example, Esparza says, is the taller (workshop) of Don Eleno Espinoza in the little town of Navajas, located 30 kilometers southwest of Guadalajara. Here they carry on an ancient tradition but employ modern devices like grinding wheels for polishing. 

In one corner of the workshop, piled on the floor, visitors can find a collection of just about every type, color and sheen of obsidian, brought to Navajas from all over Jalisco.

That collection, however, is shrinking.

“The artisans of Navajas report two problems,” Rodrigo Esparza says “One is the spread of agave fields over what were once obsidian deposits. Aerial photos show that several historically important — and ‘protected’ — obsidian deposits have simply disappeared, covered with agaves.”

Mexican obsidian catches the eye of China

The second problem is on an international scale. Rainbow obsidian, for example, has come to the attention of Chinese entrepreneurs, who eventually find their way to remote backwaters where they will buy everything that the local people can produce … until there is none left. They are also on the lookout for deposits that have large blocks of obsidian. Although these weigh tons, they are transported to docks and eventually end up in China.

“Foreigners can spirit obsidian out of Mexico without paying tariffs of any kind,” says Esparza, “because the government officially lists obsidian as cascajo, gravel, and it sells for one peso a kilo. In ancient times it was a priceless resource but now it’s classified as worthless.”

John Pint has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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These were acorn woodpeckers, easily identified from afar by their bright red caps. But even if you couldn’t see one, you could immediately identify a carpintero bellotero, as they are called here, by its less than melodious cry. 

Never would you be tempted to use the word “song” to describe its rasping “RAKA! RAKA! RAKA!” squawk, so unlike the cheery “ha-ha-ha HA ha!” of its American cousin Woody, whose famous call appears to have been modeled on that of the pileated woodpecker.

If these birds normally eat acorns, I thought, they might also like peanuts. So I put out a plate of peanuts. Sure enough, they were gone within an hour… all eaten by squirrels!

I decided to elevate the plate, suspending it in the air at the end of a long string.

This worked. The little redheads came, and I learned a few things about carpinteros.

First of all, they never seem to travel alone. If one discovers a plate of peanuts, it immediately notifies the rest of the family — in fact, the whole tribe. If you think one rasping squawk is noisy, you should hear 12 carpinteros going at it all at once.

Woodpeckers, I think, were not designed by Mother Nature to perch on the edge of a plate suspended in the air.

“They’ll never get the hang of it,” said my wife, watching the birds’ clumsy attempts to get a peanut off that plate swinging in the air.  “Give them time,” I said. “They’re clever little creatures.”

Sure enough. soon the whole tribe had mastered the technique. One by one they would grab the plate, steal the peanuts and then, like a guilty thief, they would make a beeline for a far-off tree branch where they could consume their snack in solitude — far from any squirrels.

Squirrels were their mortal enemies. Anytime a carpintero came upon a squirrel, he would call in the whole tribe. Crying “RAKA! RAKA! RAKA!” each of them would try to dive bomb the squirrel, whose only defense was to hunker in place covering its head and back with its bushy tail.

Elsewhere in my community, the woodpeckers have learned to steal what they can of gardeners’ recently heated tortillas, as well as kibble put out to feed the family dog.

Evidence of what they ate before we humans “developed” the neighborhood can be seen during a walk in the woods.

You don’t have to go far to discover a woodpeckers’ granary. These are pine trees filled with countless holes, many of them stuffed with acorns. Two species of local oak trees produce acorns in two shapes: round and long. The long, rocket-shaped ones must be more delicious, because they are the only ones you’ll find stuffed into the holes in the trees. Inside some of them may lurk the larva of the acorn weevil… perhaps providing the woodpecker with a tasty dessert.

Our woodpeckers are clever when it comes to food, but when it comes to home construction skills, I think they could use a few more millennia of evolution.

This was demonstrated when some carpinteros decided to move into a dead tree standing next to our house. The tree was so far gone that all that remained of it was the standing trunk and one lopped off horizontal branch.

It was exactly in the crux of this thick, truncated branch, that a carpintero decided to create a home.

“Tock, tock, tock!” for weeks on end.

A hole grew at that spot, bigger and bigger, deeper and deeper. We watched the process of excavation high above our rooftop, and the eventual installation of the lady of the house.

All went well until one night, in the wee hours of the morning, we were awoken from our sleep by a tremendous crash.

I jumped out of bed, grabbed a flashlight and ran outside. There on the ground lay the thick, heavy branch which, fortunately for us, had just missed the edge of our roof as it fell from the tree. There was no sign of the brilliant construction engineer who had picked the very worst spot on that tree to build a home.

I noted a similar naive approach to homemaking on the wooden telephone pole outside our gate. The upper end of the pole was already full of woodpecker holes and still I could hear the tock tock tock of yet another excavation.

“Just how many holes can a pole take?” I asked my gardener, Don Pancho.

Sure enough, one day, the pole snapped and so did our telephone line. A few days later, a big Telmex truck lumbered up the cobblestone road and a new telephone pole was installed.

“Look at that,” I commented to Don Pancho. “They’ve brought us another wooden pole, just like the last one. The woodpeckers will be delighted, but why don’t they install a concrete pole or a metal one — can’t they see what’s going to happen? “

Don Pancho tugged at his beard and smiled. I could see a gleam of humor in his eye.

“Pos sí.  But they know what they’re doing. It’s what we call the Ley de la Chamba here in Mexico…. if they use a concrete pole they wouldn’t be able to come back here every year to put up a new pole. They would lose that chamba.” Chamba is slang for a job.

“You can see the Ley de la Chamba at work right here on this cobblestone road,” Don Pancho went on. “There are two ways to repair these roads: the professional way, which will last for years, or the other way, which only lasts a few months. The Ley de la Chamba guarantees they’ll choose the second option.”

So the wooden pole was installed, and over the last few months the woodpeckers have enthusiastically tunneled into it from every direction.

How many more days before it snaps in two, I wonder, and I’ll see with my own eyes the proof that the Law of Chamba reigns in Mexico. And that, clever as they may be in other ways, when it comes to home building, carpinteros are just plain mensos — dummies.

John Pint has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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Incised upon it was a simple design: a circle divided into four parts by a cross, with a small circle in each section. Outside the design, as if by way of signature, there was a simple sketch of a jaguar’s head.

I had never seen a petroglyph quite like this. Getting home, I sent a photo of the rock to archaeologist Joseph Mountjoy, who has spent much of his life discovering, cataloging, and interpreting petroglyphs in western Mexico. “It could be an abbreviated patolli,” replied Dr. Mountjoy. And with this message, I was launched into the intriguing story of the pre-Columbian patolli.

Playing with poisonous beans

The word patolli, Mountjoy explained to me, is Nahuatl for an ancient form of what we call board games, in which markers are moved along a track, which might be scratched in the ground or painted on a portable mat — and only rarely carved into the surface of a flat rock. 

The number of spaces the markers move depends on the throw of objects that served the same purpose as dice. In many cases, they were dark-red beans — also called “patolli” — with a white hole on one side. These were probably poisonous mescal beans (Sophora secundiflora). 

Just as in modern board games, a throw of the beans might land a player’s token on a square where they lose their turn, get an extra turn, or — if they are unlucky — get sent back to the starting space.

Gambling and drinking

Perhaps the earliest account of how the game was played was written by Spanish historian Fray Diego Durán. It may have been transcribed from a native manuscript written shortly after the Spanish conquest:

“On this mat was painted a large X, which reached from corner to corner to corner. Within the arms of the X certain lines were marked or striped with liquid rubber… Twelve pebbles were used in these squares: six red and six blue. These pebbles were divided among those who played, each given his share.”

“If two played, which was the usual form, each took six pebbles and when many played, one played for all, [the others] abiding by his luck, just as the Spaniards play games of chance betting on whom [they hope to be] the winner. The same was done here. [Bets were made] on the one who best handled the dice. These were black beans, five or six, depending upon how one wanted to play. On each bean was a small space painted with the number of the squares which it could advance at each play.”

Patolli, Mountjoy told me, was played by both the rich and the poor, and the playing of the game was apparently a very lively event, filled with excitement.

“The only ethnographic evidence that we have about what went on,” said Mountjoy, “is in respect to the Aztecs. There would tend to be two players playing on the board. Each one had his team and the team would be betting. Based on what we know about Mesoamerican betting, they could bet anything and everything: precious stones, land, women, children, clothes. And they drank pulque while they played. So it sounds a bit like Las Vegas, where you might see people at the roulette wheel with their friends behind them, rooting them on and drinking their cocktails. This was the poker of those times.”

This image is consistent with the findings of American ethnographer Stewart Culin who published “Games of the North American Indians” in 1907. “Culin’s work,” said Mountjoy, “indicates that Indigenous people truly liked to play games, lots and lots of them.”

11,000 petroglyphs but only one patolli

Joseph Mountjoy had no knowledge of patollis until he and his team found one incised on a horizontal rock in Jalisco’s Tomatlán Valley in 1977. 

“When I saw it, I said ‘This is a strange-looking thing,’” he told me. “It was all the more remarkable because we had already found 11,000 petroglyphs in the Tomatlán Valley… but only one patolli! So I started digging into the subject of patollis. I learned, for example, that in the 1940s an anthropologist had described Tarascans playing patolli on a board. It turned out you could take the rules that the Tarascans were following and use them to play the game on the patolli design we found in Tomatlán. This was impressive.”

While researching the Tomatlán area, adds Mountjoy, “we also found several odd ceramic pieces. One is shaped exactly like a Hershey’s Kiss and the other is a pottery disk somewhat resembling modern checkers, with a gouged pit on one side and a cross incised on the opposite face. It seems possible that they were using one of these as the marker and the other as the die. The latter resembles the bone dice used by numerous native American groups.”

“For a long time,” Mountjoy told me, “the literature suggested that Indians from India had contacted the American civilizations and had introduced the game of Parcheesi to them, which became known as patolli. But they were just a little bit off. Recent research into this topic has proven that it was the patolli game of Mesoamerica that went to India, and not vice versa. The game doesn’t appear in India until the 1500s or 1600s.”

Patolli today

“Are people in Mexico still playing these games somewhere?” I asked Dr. Mountjoy.

“I was in Mazatlán not long ago,” he replied, “for a conference on patollis, and while I was there discussing this, somebody told me that people were still playing a version of the patolli up in the mountains east of Mazatlán. They may have been incising the design on the ground, and they were using bottle caps on the boards.”

If you’d like to try your hand at the Mesoamerican game of patolli, there’s no need to travel all the way to Mazatlán. Thanks to the kind folks at the Otago Museum in New Zealand, of all places, you can download and print out your own patolli board, complete with directions on how to play (though without any pulque). I just hope these New Zealanders’ next project will give me directions for playing on the abbreviated patolli I found near Lake Chapala.

The writer has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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This sandy beach can only be reached by driving through an elegant compound called Playa de las Tortugas Villas, where you can rent a mansion or stay at a five-star hotel.

But if you’re in the mood for roughing it, you can wind your way through this development all the way to the beach, which is quite rustic and covered with coconut palms. It also features good waves for surfing and an estuary with long mangrove tunnels, perfect for kayaking.

After setting up my tent under a low coconut palm, I took a dip in the ocean, whose waters in mid-December were neither hot nor cold, but the perfect temperature for swimming.

After that, I wandered south along the beach and came to a big sign reading  “WHAT DO I DO IF I SEE A TURTLE COME OUT OF THE OCEAN?” 

The basic message was: keep back and don’t interfere. Just beyond the sign was an open gate and beyond the gate a handsome tower with a palapa on top of it.

A turtle egg garden

Soon, I came upon a sign welcoming me to Campamento Platanitos Center for the Protection and Conservation of the Sea Turtle. I was now inside a clean, pleasant-looking compound with numerous buildings and two fenced-off areas that appeared to be gardens — until I looked carefully.

Neat rows of little signs described not vegetables, but clutches of turtle eggs buried there: date of arrival, number of eggs, etc. And then in the “garden,” I found not a farmer, but a biologist. This was Ruth Ramírez, who had studied biology at the University of Guadalajara.

“What did your garden produce today?” I asked her. Her eyes lit up. “Come follow me,” she said, walking over to a small museum.

100 baby turtles trying to escape

Here, on the floor in the middle of the room, was a sort of giant plastic bathtub and inside it were at least 100 hopelessly cute little turtles, their shells only about 1 inch in diameter. Ninety percent of them were making little scuffling noises as they tried to climb the walls of the bathtub. The other ten percent weren’t moving.

“Are they dead?” I asked. “No,” Ramírez said, “just resting. In a minute they’ll be back at it, trying to reach the ocean.”

“How many days have they been in this tub?” I asked.

“What? All of these were born today and tonight we’re going to release them!” Ramírez explained to me that the job of the camp’s staff is to patrol the beach every night, collecting the turtle eggs that have been laid here and bringing them to the incubation corrals.

Threatened by extinction

“Typically,” the biologist said, “one of these turtles could produce between 60 and 180 eggs. Ramírez is referring to the olive ridley sea turtle, which is the turtle that most often comes up on these beaches in Nayarit.”

Ramírez explained to me that there are seven species of sea turtles in the world. One is endemic to Australia and all the others can be found in the Americas. And, she added, “All those other six species are officially listed as threatened by extinction globally.”

Ramírez led me to a display all about the olive ridley turtle. “They eat algae, sea grass, crabs and snails and when they are eight or ten years old, with a shell measuring some 70 centimeters in width, they return to the same beach where they were born to lay their eggs. Only the females come on to land, not the males.”

Ramírez says the high season for olive ridleys at Playa de las Tortugas is from May to August, “When the whole beach is full of turtles.” Now, in the winter, only one or two show up every night to lay their eggs.

The amazing belly-button recorder

In front of a model of a turtle nest, Ramírez explained that when a mother turtle arrives on the beach, she hunts for just the right place to lay her eggs, depending on information from a kind of sensor organ on the flat bottom of her shell. Then, with her back legs, she digs a tube-like hole and lays her eggs inside.

Incubation time varies by species. For the olive ridley sea turtle, it is 45 days from when the eggs are laid until they are hatched. At this moment, we were interrupted by visitors who, like me, were enchanted by the tubful of tiny turtles.“Can we pick them up?” they asked.

“Yes,” replied the biologist, “but be very careful not to touch the underside of their shell, called the plastron. Right in the middle of it, they have a belly button: what remains of their umbilical cord. This could provide them with nutrition for as long as ten days, keeping them alive as they enter the ocean.” Amazingly, this also acts as a highly sophisticated sensor recording all kinds of information as the baby turtle runs from its nest to the sea, sufficient information to enable it to return to the very same beach eight years later to lay its own eggs.

Bienvenidos, visitors and volunteers

The camp’s staff of four liberate turtles every evening at 5 p.m., making sure that predators such as raccoons, skunks, crabs and birds have no chance to end their run. Visitors who want to help with this are welcome to, and the same goes for the nightly beach patrols.

In spite of all their efforts, laments Ramírez, “the odds are against these little creatures. Only one in a thousand will live to return to our beach eight years from now.”

To see it all for yourself, pack up your tent, coconut machete and kayak and ask Google Maps to take you to Platanitos Turtle Camp, Nayarit.

The writer has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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Well, and tourist guides.

One of Cancún’s coolest guides is Darío Ferreira, co-founder of the Nature Geek Squad: local experts in creating ecologically responsible, off-the-beaten-path adventures.

“Tell me a bit about hiking in and around Cancún,” I asked Ferreira. “What would you recommend for people who love nature?”

“There are places to go walking or cycling in Cancún.” he replied, “and they are working on creating parks, but for me, this is not senderismo (trail hiking). So I’m going to tell you about a few places I love to go to, not far from Cancún, where you can really appreciate nature.”

Punta Laguna: monkeys and more

The first place on Ferreira’s list is Punta Laguna, the gateway to the Otoch Ma’ax Yetel Kooh (Home of the Monkey and Puma) National Protected Area, a one hour 40 minute drive from Cancún.

Here you will find a vast array of plant species including sapodilla trees, which produce chicle (gum), and the ceiba, which the Maya believe is a pathway for souls to reach heaven, with its roots reaching into the underworld and its branches holding up the sky.

Punta Laguna also showcases deer, raccoons, armadillos, margays, coatis, agoutis, peccaries, and very elusive jaguars and pumas, but most people go to see howler and spider monkeys (which are an endangered species).

However, this park is also home to 158 species of birds, including the osprey, the great curassow, the toucan, and the very colorful ocellated turkey.

The park guides (whose services are highly recommended, but optional) all come from a nearby Mayan village which offers visitors a glimpse of a disappearing indigenous lifestyle,

The village is actually an ejido (rural co-op) called Najil Tucha and all revenue from tourism is divided among the families, all of whom speak Mayan. The guides say they are there to protect the environment from “human predators” who used to collect animals to sell them abroad. Some 35 families live in the village and since 1994 they’ve been monitoring the wildlife behavior and striving to preserve the environment.

Visiting hours are from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily, but around 3 p.m. is the best time to see monkeys.

If you plan to visit Punta Laguna, you ought to bring comfortable, lightweight clothing, long pants, and good hiking boots. Biodegradable sunscreen and bug spray are recommended, but, says Darío, should be rinsed off before you get in the water. Here you can also kayak in a lagoon and visit a fascinating cenote, so don’t forget to bring a swimsuit.

If you want to stay overnight at Punta Laguna, you have two choices. You can camp on a platform near the lagoon or stay in a Mayan “hut.” Note that they do have bathroom facilities (eco-bathrooms) on site.

In conclusion, says Darío Ferreira: “Punta Laguna is an incredible place!”

Muyil: Unwind into a moving meditation

Another of Ferreira’s favorite sites is Muyil, at the edge of a lagoon in the Sian Ka’an Biosphere Preserve, a UNESCO World Heritage Site located 153 kilometers south of Cancún. Here he and his fellow Nature Geeks have found wonderful places to hike and boat outside the established archaeological area.

“In the lush and tangled jungle,” explains Ferreira, “we begin with a boat ride through natural channels, slowing down to view intertwining mangrove roots eye to eye, home to nurseries of juvenile fish and host to many air plants such as orchids and bromeliads. Once we park the boat at a dock, we jump into one of the channels and let the natural current carry us through the magical mangrove tunnel. The water is fresh and just the right temperature, the shade of the trees is perfect and the calming sounds of birds and water allow us to let go and unwind into a moving meditation.”

Puerto Morelos Botanical Garden

Only a 36-minute drive from Cancún lies the Puerto Morelos Botanical Garden –one of Mexico’s largest – where you’ll find two kilometers of trails introducing you to local orchids, bromeliads, ferns, palms, cacti, and Mayan medicinal herbs.

You’ll also find colorful birds and plenty of animals, including spider monkeys and iguanas.

Along your route, you’ll cross a 130-foot suspension bridge, and if you wish, you can climb a scenic lookout tower which will give you a great view of the jungle all the way to the sparkling waters of the Caribbean. 

You’ll also have a chance to visit a chiclero camp, which will take you back to the days when the sap of the chicle tree was extracted and boiled down into what we now call chewing gum.

The park is open Monday through Saturday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.

The secret river

To this short list of outdoor sites near Cancún, allow me to add an underground attraction. Río Secreto is a gorgeous cave where you wade in crystal-clear water, winding your way through shimmering stalactites.

If you love nature and you’re heading for Cancún, I suggest you call Darío Ferreira – who speaks perfect English –  at +52 984 139 3271 (Whatsapp) or on his US number at 512 423 5975. He can organize a nature tour for you (including “a snake spotting hike”) but is also happy to give you tips at no charge about places you can visit on your own.

The writer has lived near Guadalajara, Jalisco, for more than 30 years and is the author of A Guide to West Mexico’s Guachimontones and Surrounding Area and co-author of Outdoors in Western Mexico. More of his writing can be found on his website.

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