Made this little gem for my family in New England... for anyone else digging out of 4-6ft of snow... cheers 
We’d
heard about las Grutas of Tolontongo through the social media sites of
Ewa and Sheldon of Ride4Smiles. It sounded fabulous and when we realized
our route from Xilitla to Mexico City would take us past the road to
Las Grutas, we decided to make the short detour.
From the
bustling smog-filled city of Ixmiquilpan, we rode out in the direction
of Cardonal. No joke, we encountered no fewer than 60 topes in 50
kilometers, even though there were eventually no businesses. No Houses.
No nothing. Just topes. UGHHHH!!
As the sun was setting we
arrived at the top of a spectacular canyon and followed the signs
straight ahead for las Grutas. Although the road was dirt, and pretty
gnarly in some of the hairpin turns that they had just wet down to avoid
dust, (kind of reminiscent of the Dalton Highway) there were signs
everywhere for the Hot Springs and we knew that what appeared to be a
deserted canyon would be a rather touristy enterprise.
(We came
to find out during the course of our stay that Las Grutas de Tolantongo
are actually owned by 112 families that are a part of a communal
property agreement. All of the employees of Las Grutas are members of
this family and everyone has a say in how business matters are handled.
Jobs are rotated, so while someone might be at the reception desk one
day, he might be working at the locker rental the next. While we were
there, we saw a group of men hacking away at stones that will likely be
used to build yet another structure on the land - at the end of the day,
we watched as several of them went into the shower building and emerged
in security guard uniforms. Pretty interesting way to run a business.)
Entry
was 140 Pesos each (about $10) and at the bottom of the canyon we found
3 hotels (largely empty as it is apparently the ‘off-season’) and a
camping area empty but for one truck. We set up the tent next to the
thermal river which Roel immediately jumped into.
The
next morning we set out to explore the Grutas (or caves) that this
canyon is famous for. A 100+ foot waterfall screens the entrance to the
caves, so it was quite a cool sensation to have our lower legs covered
in warm water while chilly water was cascading down our bodies.
Once
in the cave, our eyes adjusted to the dark and we noticed a massive
waterfall (4 feet in diameter), falling in the middle of the space. We
headed straight for it and as we moved along in about 2-3 feet of water,
we realized that the walls of the cave were practically covered in
waterfalls, all pouring out hot-shower temperature water. We went from
fall to fall, then explored another cavern off to the right of the main
cavern, and eventually visited the tunnel up above.
This
shot is for my friend Bruce, who gave me crap for that last waterfall
photo... as requested, Bruce... here's Roel's waterfall shot 
In
my life, I’ve seen beautiful caves. Breath-taking waterfalls. Lovely
hot springs. Just not all in one place like this. It was spectacular.
From
there we took the 2 kilometer hike up to the man-made Pozas (pools)
that were also filled with geothermic water. The views during the hike
and from the Pozas made it OK that the Pozas were only luke warm ;)
The
next morning we wanted to get on the road early to 1. beat the city
traffic of Ixmiquilpan and 2. Hopefully ride out before they wet down
the road, so we rode up out of the canyon just as the sun was rising.
Beautiful way to start a day.
The next morning we stopped at Cascades de Tamasopo on the way out of town and then headed through the mountains to Xilitla.
We
passed through several small indigenous villages, where our waves were
returned by the women walking along the road with their babies packed on
their backs. The road conditions and traffic were a little hazardous
requiring us to keep our speeds to a minimum.
No wonder there were oranges all over the road on the way to Xilitla!
At
one point, we were climbing up a steep hill and a truck with dozens of
unsecured boxes in his bed came careening around the corner up ahead of
us. Roel successfully dodged one of the boxes that came flying out
directly into his path, and “kindly” alerted the driver to his missing
package with a continuous application of hand to horn.
We
made it to Xilitla by early afternoon and marveled at Las Pozas of
Edward James… a surrealist concrete sculpture garden, that was built on
over 80 acres of sub-tropical rainforest. That very same rainforest is
now re-claiming it. Edward James worked on this masterpiece for over 30
years, selling his surrealist artwork collection to fund this project.
I
had mixed feelings while wandering around this garden after seeing the
poverty all around this area... Here this artist came and unloaded hundreds
of thousands of dollars on the creation of his vision… but ultimately, I
settled on the fact that this Las Pozas is actually a gift James left
to the town of Xilitla… During it’s construction, James employed around
150 local workers from Xilitla and now long after his departure, Las
Pozas continues to bring tourists and their dollars to this small town
in the mountains.
We headed out of Xilitla, keen to make a few
more kilometers in the direction of Mexico City and intent upon finding
wild camping. The further we got on the road and the closer the sun got
to the horizon, the more obvious it became that we would not be able to
find a spot to wild camp. Even in the seeming middle of nowhere, all
you had to do was stop alongside the road for a minute and a guy on a
donkey would appear out of nowhere. There were several signs on the road
for campgrounds, but we never found the actual places. And asking the
locals about these mysterious signs proved useless.
So,
just after dark, we made it to a larger city and began looking for
cheap hotels with parking. (Go figure, this would be the only town in
Mexico it seems that does not have a health economy of covert love
affairs to support love hotels - there were none to be had.) There were
only two hotels in town with parking. And they were not in our budget.
While discussing our options on the street, a dual-sport rider came to
chat and eventually a friend of his who spoke very good English, (having
worked in construction in the US for 30 years) came over to chat as
well. They eventually asked us where we were staying and we explained
that we were just trying to work that out, but that we would have really
preferred to camp somewhere and did they know of any place? The guy who
had worked in the US told us he owned a lot next to a school just down
the road that we could pitch our tent on. He used it to store materials
there at one time, but currently it was empty and would be a perfectly
safe place for us to pitch our tent for the night. We followed him out
of town on the main road towards Mexico City and about 20 kilometers
later, he dropped us off and bid us a good journey.
Wow. Thank you.
The locals in this
small indigenous town seemed not to know what to make of us, so they
largely ignored us, but for a few friendly kids who ogled the bikes.
Prior
to meeting Jose and Laura in Guanajuato, we hadn’t exactly been sure of
our next destination, figuring perhaps we’d just head to Mexico City
and then “South” from there. But in the course of a ten minute
discussion about winding roads through high desert sierra, blue waters,
illuminated swim-throughs and concrete art in the jungle, Jose had
convinced us to take a ride up Route 120 to Tamasopo and then back down
through Xilitla.
After a few days in the cities of Guanajuato and
San Miguel de Allende, we were thrilled to set up our tent under a
tree, surrounded by cacti, just a little ways off Route 120.
Ahhhhhhh... :D Peace. It's good to be back in nature!
It
was off of a dirt track that didn’t look well-used. Well, by tires, at
least. The next morning a guy on a donkey rode by but did not notice us
or just let us be.
These were all taken on Route 120 in the state of Querétaro. The photos we managed to take along this route don't do it justice, but hopefully you can get a feel for what an incredible road it is.
After
some of the most beautiful riding we’ve encountered in Mexico, we
finally arrived in Tamasopo. It’s a scruffy town that seems to want to
cater to tourists coming to see the beautiful natural wonders of the
area… but. it. just. can’t. quite. figure. out. how.
We followed
elusive signs to Puente de Dios, both excited to get in the water and
wash away the sweat and grime accumulated from the past two days of
riding. We rode out of town and there were only sugar cane plantations
with the occasional farm house, and towering mountains in the
background. Sigh. This felt more like what we were looking for.
Until
out of nowhere a little girl jumped out into the road in front of the
bikes and started yelling about 20 pesos and waving her arms towards a
patch of dirt on the side of the road. Totally startled I said “no
gracias” and continued on. We rounded a bend in the road and there were
another 6-7 children scattered along the road, all waving their arms and
yelling to us. Eventually, we figured out that they were trying to get
our “parking” business and offering to guard our bikes while we were
hiking down to Puente de Dios. Wow. We understand everyone is just
trying to make a buck to survive, but this was not exactly the peaceful
experience we were looking forward to. Eventually, we settled on one lot
that a young boy was selling convincingly and locked up the bikes.
Farther down the road, we payed the fee (30 pesos) to what seemed to be a
national parks service employee, and hiked down into the lushly
forested canyon.
Guide ropes lead across the pool as the current can get quite strong in some spots.
The
view, once we made it to the bottom, was spectacular. Rushing
waterfalls poured into a beautiful blue pool that disappeared through
the naturally made “Puente” and flowed out on the other side.
Given
our our penchant for camping in the wild, people often ask what we do
about showers, etc. Trust me, no hotel offers a better shower experience than this.
We
took turns diving in, bathing under the waterfalls and swimming under
the Puente. The Puente, for which the site is named, is actually
cavernous once you get inside and light is reflected from the bottom of
the riverbed, making it seem as though the entire cave is glowing from
beneath. No wonder it is called the Bridge of God.
The
river flows underneath the "Puente" and once you swim under the Puente,
it opens up into a cavernous cave over your head. The light from the
pools on either side of the Puente reflect up from the sand and gives
you the feeling that that sandy bottom beneath you is glowing. Magical.
Completely
refreshed, we hiked back up the mountain and asked the gentleman who
owned the lot we had parked in if we could set up our tent and stay for
the evening. For another 50 pesos, he was more than willing and
accommodating, and so we stayed.
Nightlife in front of Parroquia de San Miguel Archangel
From Guanajuato, we headed just down the road (about 100 kilometers) to San Miguel de Allende.
The ride to San Miguel was beautiful and along the way we passed a
Pilgrimage group for whom traffic was being directed around on the
mountainous roads.
This city has quite a concentration of
artistically inclined Gringos who have likely come to admire the
Parroquia de San Miguel Archangel and decided to immigrate and settle in
this lovely town in the mountains.
Our plan was to settle in a
hotel or hostel for the evening so that we would be able to walk into
the city which we were told comes alive at night. We explored the
cobbled streets of San Miguel until we found the Alcatraz Hostal, which
offered reasonable rates in comparison to everything else around (one
“economy” hotel wanted 700 pesos - about $50 - whereas the Alcatraz at
least 180 Pesos - $13 each - for rooms in a dorm. Not ideal, but at
least Roel would be able to get the bikes into the lovely hostel
courtyard so we would be able to explore the city and sleep at night
without worrying about the bikes being bothered.
Secure bike parking at Alcatraz Hostal
We
wandered into the city to meet a friend of a friend from the US, Betty,
who had recently returned to San Miguel after spending her youth there.
The square in front of the Parroquia de San Miguel Archangel was indeed
alive.
Being
that it was the anniversary of the town, there was all sorts of
entertainment including a dance presentation that included dances from
every state in Mexico. It was fabulous (and FREE)!!
Betty
and I hit it off right away and she showed us around to her favorite
haunts, all of which either offered stunning views of the city by night
or the best tacos al Pastor we’ve had to date.
Tacos al Pastor, similar to Shawarma, and perhaps brought to Mexico by Lebanese immigrants
On
Friday night, there was a classical band playing live music in front of
the Parroquia and then later on, the mariachis were in full force.
San
Miguel de Allende was a lovely city and we’re glad we were able to
experience it now. Talking with Betty about how much has changed since
she was living there 30 years ago in addition to seeing how the Gringo
wealth has largely pushed Mexicans out of this city, was really
saddening. While wandering around the streets, we saw a real-estate
office, staffed by Gringos for Gringos… In a country where the minimum
wage is just over $5 PER DAY, there were modest homes for sale at the
“fabulous price” of $550,000. Unreal.
Many of the Gringos in San
Miguel are doing really good work that is undoubtedly helping Mexican
children and folks in the local community, so the gringo influence is
certainly not all bad. But truthfully, walking around the streets of San
Miguel de Allende, we didn’t feel like we were in Mexico until the sun
went down and the city came alive.
Silver linings are the
best... we never would have found ourselves here had it not been for my
mishap with the tope and hence meeting Jose and Laura.
So picking up right where we left off… What are the chances that:
1.
Given all of the motorbikers in Mexico who we’ve met either in person
or online… one guy from Mexico City sends us a lovely message and
offers that his Dad, in Guanajuato, has a great workshop “should we need
anything.”
2. And then I crash, in that city.
3. That the
ONE person who stopped to see if we were OK and offered to help, in a
city of 160,000+ people happened to be his mother?
4. That not
only did his father have an incredible workshop, between Jose Jr. and
Jose Sr. they’ve owned an Africa Twin and a Transalp?
Wow.
Leaving Hotel Embajadoras, after some much-needed R&R
Anyway…
The
next morning, we arrive at Jose and Laura’s. They are warm and
wonderful and welcoming. They have a lovely home, loving dogs for us to
cuddle and they pour us steaming cups of the best coffee we’ve had since
Northern California.
We were hoping Jose would have a pop-rivet
wrench, the only tool Roel think’s we’ll need to remount the Hepco
& Becker lock.
Within minutes, my lock has been re-mounted onto the Gobi case with Jose’s pop-rivet wrench.
I love my Gobi Cases.
The Gobi cases fared much better than Walter. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much longer my tool-box cum top-box is going to last for :/
Jose
asked if we needed to do anything else on the bikes and we quickly took
him up on the offer to do some work that we’ve been needing to do for a
while:
-replacing the fork oil on the Africa Twin
-Flushing the brake fluid in both bikes
-greasing the clutch cables and other moving parts
-Sanding the Africa Twin’s front brake pads
-Etc.
When
the bikes were finished, Laura and Jose offered to take us to Cristo
Rey, a statue of Jesus high up on a mountain outside of Leon. He was
indeed impressive and the view was not something you could capture with a
camera.
And then they took us to a small town nearby that was at one time larger than Guanajuato, called Mineral de la Luz.
The
padre of Mineral de la Luz’s cathedral, came out and opened the church
for us. We wandered around, admiring the artwork inside of the church,
but then the padre insisted upon bringing us back to his own home. We
didn’t entirely understand why until we arrived: he might be GaudÃ
reincarnated.
Our
mouths were gaping open the entire time we were wandering through his
little paradise. The walls were constructed with semi-precious crystals
and there were whimsical details everywhere we looked. The immense
amount of creativity, attention to detail and love that has gone into
this building was simply staggering. It was honestly one of the most
amazing man-made creations I have ever seen, and I think Roel would say
the same.
On
our way back to Guanajuato, Jose and Laura took us to the town overlook
for this stunning view of Guanajuato. We had "found" it by accident on
the first night when we were lost, too, hehe.
A statue of Pipila, a hero of the city for his bravery in the beginning of the Mexican War of Independence.
And
we never would have gotten here had I not crashed my bike and had a
reason to take Jose. Jr up on his offer to work in his Dad’s shop.
And
now, Jose Sr. is guiding us out of Guanajuato, our spirits lifted, the
bikes in better condition than they have been in a while and feeling
very grateful for simply being healthy and whole and finding the silver
lining that the sneaky slippery topes of Guanajuato had in store for us.
One of the rare moments where Jose hadn't left us in the dust on his Ducati Monster
