Side Trips, Parades and a Gem: Days 11-15. Guachochi, Parral, Durango, Zacatacas, San Luis Potosi, Rio Verde

Day 11: Tónachi to Parral

I was weary when I came back to Hotel Melinda from the fair. I fell asleep but awakened early, before 7 a.m. The hotel restaurant wasn't opened so I ate Marias (vanilla wafer cookies) and drank bottled water for breakfast.

I walked over to the taxi stand. I had asked a taxi driver last night what the price would be to make a quick side trip to Tónachi. "500 pesos," ($45), he said, for the ride, one way. He didn't seem interested in talking about a round trip and time for photos. It was too hypothetical, and although I felt it was high, at least I had some idea of the price. Millions of Mexicans cross the border to earn $10 an hour. I felt that $10 an hour in Mexico, without all the trouble of going north should be attractive.

The taxi stand was vacant. It was 7:30 a.m. and the Tónachi bus only operates three days a week. A taxi was my only choice.

A fellow pulled up in front of the Tortilleria across from the taxi stand in a 1984 white Chevy pickup with a black hood, and a green right fender. Steel posts and wooden slats fenced in the pickup truck bed. He was picking up a stack of hot corn tortillas.

I said, "Where can I get a taxi?" "Here's a taxi," he said. He said he hauled pigs, goats, cows and firewood, and he'd take me. His name was Lucas and he was a solid five feet nine inches. He was gifted with personality. He could have passed for the boxer's older brother. His salt and pepper hair was cut short. He wore cowboy boots, white jeans with a western belt, and a black jacket.

We struck a bargain. I'd pay him the standard taxi fare, but he'd take me to the falls, point out the sites and get me back in 3 hours

We talked all the way to Tónachi. We stopped near a Tarahumara lumber mill, in front of monolith stone where a niche had been carved out for a large statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe and then we stopped at a second shrine. It was a cave along the riverbank, also with a statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe.

I felt I was back in the woods along the Truckee River near Lake Tahoe where my son lives.

We forded two shallow streams in the Chevy. The tires kicked up a spray of water. A bridge with massive stone supports was under construction at the first river. Lucas stopped for me to take pictures of Tónachi, the church and the "laundry." Clothes, all in brilliant colors, were draped over a chain link fence, hung out to dry.

We drove past Tónachi and out into the river onto a rock pan. Lucas said, "This is the dry season." We walked on the blue-gray rock pan towards the falls. Instead of one giant, wide cascade, as I had seen in the photo, there were three narrow, smaller falls, but still white beauties to see.

I took a number of photos from above and from the side. I stood where, in the photo in Hotel Melinda, a torrent cascaded. A front view would have taken us on a long route and we did not have time.

We got back into the truck. Lucas had looked for an open store on our way through Tonachi. Now, on the way back, he saw the Consupo, the government discount store. It was open. We stopped. The store was like an old general store. It had a counter that cut the room off from the merchandise. All the stock was behind. Lucas asked for tuna, and a man at a counter brought him a can. Lucas had purchased a stack of hot tortillas just before meeting me on the street. Now he finally had something to roll inside his tortilla. Lucas ate his breakfast on the return to Guachochi.

Lucas dropped me off at Hotel Melinda just before 11 a.m. I had a half hour to grab my things and walk to the bus station.

I caught the Transportes Ballezare for Parral. It was a 3rd class bus. We stopped frequently, anyone who waved, halted the bus and boarded. The driver, Daniel, left the bus door open for the breeze. It was comfortable. Daniel said that 3rd class buses are shorter and this one did seem like a school bus.

I had been on many Mexican buses in the early 1990s, some jammed so tight that holding on was both unnecessary and impossible. But on those trips I never found, or even thought about, body odor. But as we stopped and picked up Tarahumara families, I would suggest there is a market here for cologne.

I arrived in Parral, checked into Hotel Adriana, 375 pesos ($34). The lobby was marble, and in the entry there was a table with a spray of flowers. I was told it was the best downtown hotel. It was near the plazas, the cathedral and two museums. But first I got a shoeshine. I purposely wore walking shoes so from time to time I could sit in a plaza, have my shoes shined, talk and ask questions. But I had not seen one shoeshine stand on my entire trip and I'd accumulated 11 days of dirt and dust.

Expenses: Hotel $34, meals $13, side trip $45, bus $7, miscellaneous $5. Total $104.

Day 12: Parral, Parades and Pancho Villa

There is only one real reason to visit Parral: Pancho Villa. Pancho Villa was ambushed here July 20, 1923. He is a national hero, the pride of Chihuahua and venerated in Parral.

A plaque on the wall at Hotel Tourista commemorates this building as the site of the 1959 commemoration that commemorated Pancho.

His tomb is a monument in the cemetery tended by a distant cousin.

Parral itself is a city of clustered hills with a dozen bridges spanning the serpentine river that snakes through the heart of Parral. Each time I left my hotel I got lost. Once I ended up in a cul-de-sac. When I thought I would walk around a block, I ended up on top of a hill looking over the city.

It surprised me that although Juan Rangel discovered silver here over 350 years ago, the city showed few signs of colonial wealth. There were a few scattered buildings, perhaps 19th century, of notable beauty and architecture, but aside from the church, you would think nothing occurred here before 1800.

Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, the brown stone cathedral, had magnificent vibrant stained glass windows. Two major stories were pictured in the glass panels: the story of Christopher Columbus' discovery of the New World, and the story of Juan Diego, the Indian who saw the apparition of the Virgin of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Mexico. In Mexico they say, "Even an atheist is a Guadalupano."

I visited the Pedro Alvarado Museum. It was once the mansion of a wealthy miner's family and now was completely restored and furnished as a home. There were amazing photos of the restoration, before and after. This classic mansion was built in 1903. It showed a harmony of classic, Roman, and Byzantheum elements. It was still the family home until 2000 when the heirs sold the property to the state.

Pictures taken in 2000 showed a mansion in extreme decay and neglect, yet a granddaughter lived here on the lower floor. In places, pigeon excrement had built up on the roof 2 feet thick and there were photos of men shoveling the guano into bags. I could not get over how the roof had leaked and ruined murals on the second floor, and more amazed that a once-wealthy family, through pure neglect, or lack of funds, had permitted an architectural treasure to suffer years of water damage.

I spent 2 days in Parral. There were side-by-side holidays, Día de Los Ninos (Children's Day) and Día Del Labor (Mexico's Labor Day). I needed the rest and this was the perfect spot. I took short walks and there were a number of plazas where I could just sit and watch. Also, I enjoyed the Day of The Children with its parade of floats. Every conceivable commercial cartoon character waved to the crowds of parents and children lining the parade route.

The children waved back with long, slender balloons that looked like light sabers from Star Wars.

Because it was a holiday, the city came to commercial rest, except that the museums were open. I took a tour of the city in a mini-tourist train.

A tractor, fitted to look like a locomotive, pulled open cars filled with tourists around the city center while a guide explained the history and pointed out places of interest. I heard a lot about Pancho.

Pancho was born Doroteo Arango. When he was 16, he assaulted the hacendero, who may have raped his sister, and fled. For the next 20 years Doroteo was a bandit and changed his name to Pancho Villa. But he took up arms for Francisco Madero the intellectual leader of the 1910 Revolution and Pancho became a hero in the eyes of his people. In the taking of Ciudad Juarez and Zacatecas, Pancho showed that he was a brilliant military leader.

In 1920, Pancho retired. He accepted a ranch-hacienda and gold in payment for his services from Mexico's government and lived south of Parral. He apparently felt secure after three years and although he still traveled with bodyguards, his habits betrayed him, and he was ambushed.

The prize of Parral was the Pancho Villa Museum. It was not large, but was located in the building from where Pancho was ambushed and assassinated in 1923.

The museum gave a very complete history of Pancho's life and an incredible detailed list of Pancho's 25 wives and 24 children. I once met Manuel Arango, a businessman, and asked him if he were related. He said, "I don't know, but Pancho had a very fast horse."

The museums offered a change of pace and I enjoyed a day of relaxation.

I took refreshment at Jesus's Stand just across from the central plaza. He had stools outdoors. A young girl 13, Juanita, a Tarahumara, sat down and ordered a filled bun. She was slender, bright, going to school and wished to become a teacher. She wore a yellow print cotton dress decorated with oranges and limes. I could see the hand stitching, nothing machined. I asked if I could take her picture. She said yes, was gracious. We crossed the street and I took her smiling photo in front of the church.

Expenses: Hotel $34, meals $14, museums and train tour $4. Total: $52.

Day 13 Part 1: Anxious to Reach Zacatecas

Parral was a rest stop. I said good-bye to Pancho Villa at his tomb in the cemetery and his distant cousin. I was refreshed, but anxious to arrive in Zacatecas. I told friends and family that I thought I'd cover the Tijuana-Zacatecas route in 10 days. Here I was, Day 13, and still on the road.

At Hotel Adriana I asked Gloria, the desk clerk, to check the bus schedules for me. I was ready to make it in one fell swoop to Zacatecas. It was 8 hours on my AAA map, but that's driving a car. I was hoping to make it in 9 hours by bus.

Gloria speed dialed bus information. She surprised me with an inconvenient schedule. The direct Parral-Zacatecas bus left daily at 2 p.m. I would have a long morning and a late arrival. Parral-Durango, my original stop along the way, gave me a choice of 5, 6, or 7 a.m. departures. It was a five-hour trip.

I let the sun wake me up and arrived at the Bus Terminal at 6:30 a.m. I was the first to buy a ticket and requested the front passenger window seat. I took the Transportes Chihuahuense, First Class, but with 6 short stops and a couple of roadside flag downs.

We headed south and passed the turn-off to Pancho Villa's hacienda at Canutillo, now a national museum.

My seatmate was Sister Lourdes dressed in her white and brown habit. She said she was a cloistered nun dedicated to a contemplative life at Nuestra Señora de la Soledad Convent in Sombrerete. This surprised me as I thought a cloistered nun never left the convent. She said, "I have permission to visit my family for medical reasons." She was fine company. I asked how many nuns were in the convent and how did they support themselves. She said, "We are 15, we have a schedule, morning mass, 2 hours of prayer, and we make rompote (alcoholic eggnog) and membrilla de miel (quince jelly) for sale."

We pulled into Sombrerete. Sister Lourdes said there would be a celebration tonight in honor of the Santa Cruz (Holy Cross) and a three-day festival. We said good-bye and I had 2 seats to myself.

The scenery was ranch country, cowboys on horses and herds of cattle. Slowly the ranches gave way to more cacti and I dozed.

We pulled into Durango at 2 p.m. We passed a Wal-Mart, an Office Depot and a McDonald's, which was across from the Bus Terminal.

Durango is a large city and I've read that it has an attractive colonial center. But I was eager to reach Zacatecas and I inquired if there was a bus connection to Zacatecas.

I had one hour to catch the bus for Zacatecas, just enough time to walk over to McDonald's order Chicken McNuggets, fries and a coke, get a little breather and then back on the bus.

In my mind, it was perfect timing.

Day 13 Part 2: Zacatecas: This Jewel Sparkles

The bus from Durango pulled in at 8 p.m. The sun dipped below the horizon, and gold morphed into black. I caught a taxi. The driver suggested Hotel Condesa. It was a perfect location with an even better price, $35 a night. (Without the Grand Marquis I didn't have to find secure parking and some of the old hotels, in this case 130 years' old, but remodeled and modern, are in great locations and economical.)

I checked in, washed up and by 9 p.m. I was ready for a walk to get the bus seat indentation off by backside. I stepped outside into a nighttime photographer's paradise. A rainbow of multicolored dancing waters illuminated a fountain plaza.

Cars passed under a flood lit ancient aqueduct. Light accented an 18th century bullring that had been converted by an architectural masterstroke into a dream hotel.

There were arched portals lit from below, church facades highlighted and the cathedral, carved in pink-rose cantera stone, was splashed in light.

When I last visited, Zacatecas was a gem, now it was polished to a brilliant multifaceted diamond cut.

On my first visit to Zacatecas in 1992, I had come to see the August pageantry: The Battle Between the Moors and the Christians. It's an annual spectacle, a four centuries' tradition. Thousands participate.

"Mexico begins in Zacatecas," I've told my friends. On the map, it's close to the geographical center, and that's where it should be, in the heart.

Somewhere, after I left Durango, I had crossed an imaginary line like Dorothy opening the door when the tornado dropped her house in Oz. When she opened the door, she saw the world turn from black and white to Technicolor.

That's how I felt. In a jolt, I had passed a frontier. I had left behind inelegant, dusty, dingy, worn towns and battered pickup trucks, and had been magically set down in a vortex of energy, quality, class, luxury, colonial-18th-19th century architectural beauties carved in rose-pink cantera stone. Here was an unsurpassed baroque churrigueresco detailed cathedral, and world-class museums with Picassos, Goyas, Dalís and, Monets.

There were libraries and bookstores, coffee shops and luxury goods. In Zacatecas crafts and souvenirs were art treasures.

Tourists drive into Mexico, see a border town, buy a trinket, and return home, repelled by the wrong end of the magnet. If only they would take the toll road south to Zacatecas. To me it was like leaving Laramie, Wyoming in 1950. You just had to drive across 1000 miles of desert and dust to reach California.

Here the streets were not paved in California gold, but in one-foot square stones. They were neither cobblestones that shake your kidneys nor economy asphalt. They added charm, class and a sense of time-worn history. In the morning rush, police directed traffic. Cars moved among the narrow streets instead of the trucks loaded with workers that I had become accustomed to seeing in Chihuahua.

There is only one reason to visit Parral, Pancho Villa. There is no reason to leave Zacatecas.

My room at Hotel Condesa overlooked the Teatro, the Cathedral and the Bufa. In the morning, just as I opened my eyes and stirred, 7 a.m., I heard the roar of a cannonade salute. Soaring rockets opened this day of celebration in honor of Día de la Santa Cruz (Day of Holy Cross). It was festival. This was México.

I took morning photos while the traffic was light and quickly discovered that my second chip was full. Then my gut wrenched when the best photo shop in town couldn't transfer my billion-mega bit Fuji chip to a CD. No studio in Zacatecas could, but Sanborns, which sold me my second Swiss knife, this time, sold me a 256-mega chip for $85. I paid $70 for the billion-mega model. But I was very happy to purchase the new chip.

(It turned out that the transfer machines couldn't handle more than 120 photos.)

The "Toma de Zacatecas" (Taking of Zacatecas) refers to the battlefield success of the Division del Norte led by Pancho Villa, but today, I felt "taken." Taken by the beauty of the city.

La Bufa was the backdrop of Zacatecas. It was a colorado-red monolith rising above the city. It looked like the petrified humpback of some gigantic Jurassic stegosaurus that had yet to be excavated. From La Bufa there was a teleferico (overhead cable car) that rode above the city for a eagle's view and took you to La Mina Eden, the source of mining millions, and now the best mining tour I've even taken.

The Teatro was a 19th century opera house with tired galleries and every Thursday the Municipal Band played on the steps in front of the Teatro. The program ended with "La Marcha de Zacatecas." Every one stood, the orchestra and the public. Children, the youngest members of the band, were invited one-by-one, in turns, to take the conductor's baton and lead the band playing their city's patriotic song.

I sat with the crowd on the Teatro steps, my knees hunched up. A discarded candy wrapper floated past, landed in front of the band and danced, moved by invisible currents of wind.

It was a variety program. The orchestra played a Spanish Paso Doble, La Bamba, Tequila, Solamente Una Vez and of course, La Marcha de Zacatecas.

I had arrived.

Expenses: Hotel $34, meals $10, buses $41, taxi $3. Total: $88.

Day 14: San Luis Potosi: Arrival

I boarded an Ominbus, which took me directly from Zacatecas to San Luis Potosi in cool, swift comfort. For 114 pesos ($11), Omnibus covered the 191 km (115 miles) in just over 2 hours.

I've told family and friends, "If I had to choose, right now, where to live in Mexico, I'd make it San Luis Potosi." It's Mexico's geographical center. It's an historic, colonial, cultural, and university center. It's a large city with the feel of a small town. But what I like most is how quickly from San Luis Potosi you can take side trips and show friends the variety of Mexico. Real de Catorce, the desert ghost-mining town is 3 hours north. Xilitla, Edward James's surrealist garden is east, over the mountains in the Huasteca where you find a paradise of waterfalls, rivers, scuba diving in mineral springs and lush vegetation.

You can make a day trip to Queretaro, or Zacatecas, or San Miguel de Allende, or Guanajuato or Dolores Hidalgo. Jarral de Berrios is a neglected hacienda that looks like a scene from a fairy tale with conical stone structures, columns and towers.

If you feel you must find a beach, try the hot springs resort at Gogorrón. There is no beach, there is no sand, but you'll have large pools, thermal baths, green grass and shade trees.

Arriving in San Luis Potosi, I purchased a taxi voucher in the Bus Terminal, a fixed rate of 31 pesos, and told the driver, "Hotel Real Plaza." I've been a regular at the Real Plaza for years, ever since I first taught Finance and English at the Mexican Cross Cultural Institute in the mid-90s. The school closed in 2000 when the owner fell in love and moved to Spain.

The cab driver told me he had worked in Napa Valley for three years, not too far from my home in California. I said, "Were you able to save up and bring some money back?" He tapped the steering wheel with his hand. "I bought this taxi," he said.

Hotel Real Plaza's posted rate was 640 pesos, but I asked for the "Promotional rate" and the price was reduced to 512 ($48) a night.

I checked into Hotel Real Plaza. The bellboy wanted to assist; he looked for my luggage. "Sorry, all I have is a shoulder bag." I took the key to the 10th floor.

I looked out the window and to my surprise there was a new, gated residential development 2 blocks north. I had to take a closer look. There were 103 townhouses; two were for rent. I spoke with a lady who was washing her car. She was soaping down a red Nissan. She owned a 3-bedroom 2-bath townhouse. "Could you give me an idea of the range of prices?" She said, "Last year I paid 800,000 pesos ($75,000)."

"Location, location, location," is the realtor's mantra, and it surely is true about the townhouses at Villa Vallarta. Across from the entrance is La Bodega, a major supermarket. In 5 minutes, a resident could walk to Parque Teguis, sit in the sun, or read a newspaper in the shade, enjoy the fountains, or meet a friend for coffee at Italian Coffee, which I prefer to Starbucks. It's located on Avenida Carranza, the main thoroughfare where buses are frequent.

On a hot day you can try any of 42 ice cream or sherbet flavors at Tequisnieves (Tequis Snow). It's a couple of doors down from Italian Coffee. Tequisnieves offers many flavors promising "delicious" but give you no hint of the taste. There is Springtime, Cinderella's Kiss, Angel's Kiss, Serenade of Love, Moonscape, Wind's Prayer, Song of the Mermaids and 1000 Flowers.

Founders Square is only a 20-minute stroll and the center plaza about 30 minutes. There are superior restaurants nearby. And you'll learn Spanish; there is no noticeable ex-pat community in San Luis Potosi. You can't even buy the English language Mexican edition of the Herald newspaper in San Luis Potosi.

I'm looking forward, to continuing my journey, Bus Across Mexico, Stage 2, San Luis Potosi to Puebla. I looked at the map. Puebla was south, but I wanted to see the Huesteca, missions and mines. I would take the bus east to Rio Verde.

Expenses: Hotel $48, bus $11, taxi $3, meals $16.

But for the summer, I got sidetracked. This old man is going back to school.

Day 15: Rio Verde, Media Luna, Tamasopo Falls-Cascades, and Puente de Dios

Bus Across Mexico Stage 2 Itinerary:

San Luis Potosi, Rio Verde, Xilitla, Zacualtipan, Tlaxcala, Puebla

I woke and peeked at my clock. It was 6:14 a.m. and there was time to catch the first bus to Rio Verde. It would leave at 7 a.m.

It was still dark when my taxi dropped me off at Bus Central.

The depot was brightly lit, counters open, clerks cheerful, ready to answer questions and sell a ticket.

"Rio Verde," I said. The clerk punched in some numbers, asked my name. I said, "Ricardo," she typed. "What seat do you want," she asked, turning the screen toward me. The bus was empty. I had my choice. "First seat, aisle, please." She typed, then pressed enter and my ticket was printed.

It was only 2 hours and 15 minutes to Rio Verde, but the world changed. San Luis Potosi is High Desert. Rio Verde (Green River) is over the mountains on the gulf side and it's humid and wet, and of course green.

We pulled in at 9:15 a.m. I bought a taxi ticket in the bus station. Tickets are sold to control the taxi drivers. It protects the passenger from price gouging and the bus station from losing their percentage for the right to pick up passengers.

I told the driver, "Downtown." Rio Verde is a commercial town, but with a very attractive center, well kept plaza and attractive church with a statue of St. Francis.

I checked into Hotel Arcos Vista Bonita. The room was reasonable, $27, but I had to ask for a reading lamp. They have a good restaurant on the second floor, with a view of the church and plaza. It's very attractive.

I dumped my belongings on the bed and went outside to the plaza, crossed the street to the taxi stand and negotiated. I wanted to see Media Luna and have time to take a few pictures.

We agreed on $5 an hour.

Media Luna (Half Moon) is a huge natural spring, crescent shaped, with underwater caves. The water is pure, crystalline, and a near constant 92 degrees. It's a short drive, but slow. The road is dirt, potholes and ruts.

Jacques Cousteau explored here. There is an underwater petrified forest, ancient fossils and 10 species of fish. The clarity of the water is ideal for scuba diving and training.

The road parallels a canal, which delivers the spring's enormous water flow to farms and ranches. Orange groves, bananas, sugar cane, corn, tomatoes and chilies are crops.

I had seen aerial photos of Media Luna, but I wasn't impressed. Its form seemed a curiosity. But what the photos failed to convey is that Media Luna is also a tree-shaded, camping, picnicking and barbecuing vacation oasis. Children were swimming in a warm river that flowed from the spring. The water was as clear as any I have ever seen.

I hiked past the campsites and out to the spring. A family was enjoying the water, swimming to a barge-float and sunbathing. Others preferred the shaded rivers, which fingered off the spring.

On the way back to town I ask Jorge, my driver, to stop near the canal so I could take a picture of what I called a "sun-star" flower, a flower growing among the lily pads with a yellow center circled by white petals.

As we drove near, two young boys, teenagers, were in the canal cutting the flowers. We stopped. I introduced myself and asked the older boy, who was cutting flowers, his name. "Eddie," he said. I took out my Polaroid, took Eddie's picture and gave it to him. I took a few digitals for myself.

Eddie called his friend, who brought him a plastic coke bottle, which had the top cut off. It was now a vase. Eddie cut three sun-star flowers put them in the vase and offered them to me. "Para la señora (For your wife)," he said. I thanked Eddie, but on the way back to town, I told the taxi driver, "I'm single; here's for your wife." The driver laughed. "My wife left me 15 years ago." "Well, here's good luck for a new girlfriend," I said. We both laughed. Here we are, two old guys with ammunition and no target.

Jorge dropped me off in front of my hotel. I paid him and he drove away, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding a plastic-coke vase with 3 sun-star flowers.

Next I visited Tamasopo, a place renowned for it's waterfalls and cascades. I wasn't disappointed. The falls were a gushing torrent. Rivers and cascades are joined in another vacation paradise. I claim that Adam and Eve bathed here and the Tree of Knowledge has to be nearby.

Families and children were enjoying the beach, the sand, the wading and the swimming. Young men, with no fear of heights, climbed the cliffs and dove into the river as if racing the waterfall to see who would splash first.

This is a beautiful area.

It was late afternoon. I had taken the bus to the Tamasopo turnoff, but you had to take a taxi from the highway to the falls, about 6 miles. I negotiated $5 an hour so I could see a variety of cascades. But after a hike to see Puente de Dios (God's Bridge), my stomach was growling. I invited my driver to lunch. "You choose the place," I said. Fernando, my driver, chose a small, modest, family restaurant. He ordered fish stew. I ordered fried mojarra, a white river fish.

Good food, great day, beautiful scenery.

Expenses: Buses: $21, Taxis: $38, Meals: $12, Hotel: $27. Total: $98