There is a phrase in Mexico, "From Tijuana to Chetumal." It means from "one extreme to the other." Tijuana touches San Diego. It's north and west and on the Pacific Ocean. Chetumal abuts Belize. It's south and east and on the Atlantic side of Mexico.

I've heard: "You can get anywhere in Mexico by bus. Mexico has 800 bus companies and are the finest get-to-where-you're-going system in the world."

Crossing Mexico by bus sounded like an adventure, and taking the bus, stopping in places I've never heard of, could make me feel like a pioneer, a discoverer. I pulled out a large map of Mexico and looked it over. I'd avoid resorts and beaches. I wanted to see the heart of Mexico, the interior. I'd descend into the Copper Canyon, three times the size of the Grand Canyon, and cross deserts. I'd follow the mountainous Silver Trail, routes established by the Spanish and seek out early missions founded by Junipero Serra and stay in colonial towns. The route would take me through green jungles and past romantic waterfalls. I'd visit indigenous villages and I'd climb Mayan pyramids.

Mezcalero alongside a pine vat with fermenting baked agave

Think of mezcal as you would single malt scotch, or better yet as you would red wine with different vintages from different regions of France, or perhaps as wine from grape varietals from the diverse valleys and coastal areas of Australia. Forget about the worm for the time being, and forget forever the reputation with the college crowd of mezcal's better known sister, tequila.

Introduction

Mezcal is made from the agave plant, often referred to as maguey. Its production, according to most recent evidence, pre-dates the Spanish Conquest. Many of today's facilities use the same age-old technique, although some of the tools of the trade have changed. Clay pots originally used for manufacture and storage have been replaced with copper serpentine for distillation, and oak and glass for aging and transporting.

August 2008, Teotitlan del Valle -- The thump, thump, rhythmic cadence of the loom awakens me on the mornings that Federico Chavez Sosa is at his loom.  It is a gentle beating against the warp threads that have just been inserted, back and forth, back and forth, an ancient harmony like a drum beat that calls to me.  The sun has not quite risen.  The sky glows red orange.  Out my bedroom window I see the clay pots holding geraniums, the tiled and tin roofs of adjacent adobe homes, the curl of a morning cooking fire, the tips of Sierra Madre del Sur, and a farmer carrying his burden of alfalfa to sell at the daily market.  There is comfort in that sound of the loom and I can lay in bed knowing that this is an enduring rhythm, one heard throughout this village for many generations past.

Mexico Mosaic: The Journey Continues

The Sierras and Parque Nacional Cumbres (National Summits Park) have been described as "the best scenery in the world.” I had a list of places to see: Cola de Caballo, Puerto Genoveva, El Manzano, Cienega de Gonzales, Cañon de San Cristobal, Cañon de San Isidro and Laguna de Sanchez, a dry lake. It would be an all-day drive into the mountains. I preferred to have some company and be free to look at the sights rather than watching the road.