158-162: Los Pueblos Manconmunados

After leaving Llano de los Flores, I made my way for a group of small pueblos of indiginous people known collectively as "Los Pueblos Manconmunados." Together, they have created an ecotourism industry that is well organized. I have been looking forward to this since Daisy and Jason told me about them over a month ago! 

I was not disappointed when I got there. The villages are remote and there are very few cars and traffic. Although I had to walk my bike up many of the hills because they were so steep and bumpy, I didn't mind because it was so beautiful and relaxing. 

Evil road. No potholes, but there are many sharp rocks and it is very steep. 

The first town was called Amatlan. I set up camp, read my book, and admired the magestic nature of mountains. This admiration was heightened by the last three days of climbing.

Campsite in Amatlan. 

Mine from 1910 that you can enter until a rubble pile blocks your way 60 yards in.

 The next day I went to Yavesia. The road was awful and I did a lot of walking, but luckily it is less than 10 miles away.

More evil roads, made even more evil by slippery water.

In Yavesia I hired a guide to show me around the city. Things got weird when he took me to his house and the professional-customer relationship started looking more like a friendly host-guest relationship. I rolled with it while worrying about what sort of bill I was racking up.

Helped deshell chocolate beans and walnuts.

 The guide let me stay on his porch, which he said would be warmer than the ground. His wife also cooked me dinner, and then breakfast in the morning. All my worry about the cost was unfounded, he was just being very hospitable!

The next morning I took his advice and hired a car to take my stuff to the next village so that I could walk through the forest with the guide and get to see what that was all about. It was the steepest hike I've ever been on. I was glad I had a guide because the trail is completely unmarked, and there are many branches that you could get lost on. Also, Israel has  a deep knowledge of the nature there and is passionate about sharing it. I learned a lot about the plants, the history of the place, and the animals that live there.

Using a scythe to break open walnuts.

 I slept in a rustic cabin in the middle of the woods at the trailhead that night. And the next morning I went on another hike with a different guide in Cuajimoloyas, but shorter and less intense.

A medicinal plant, not to be confused with the plant used to make Mescal, a liquor sort of like Tequila.

I did not realize that there was no ruck underneath where I was standing until I saw this picture.

This is my general attitude while up in the area. Relaxed, content.

Coyote Canyon

 After the hike I went to the campground down yet another rocky, steep road. I rode the brakes the whole time and worried that I would bust a spoke, an axle, or break another rack. My bike is not designed for such roads. But nothing extreme happened and I made it to the camping area, which was also where they have a small trout farm and a kitchen to cook them in. I ate two. I got to help the woman net the fish out of the holding tank and watched as she prepared it.

Instead of a swift bashing of the skull, she tapped the fish on the head "So it doesn't die quickly." I'm not sure what her reasoning is for wanting the fish to die a slow death, but it brought back memories of cleaning fish with various friends in the Boundary Waters and the jokes about the savagery of fish cleaning. 

The main big tank. They divert water from the stream, fill up the tanks, and then send the water right back in downstream.

I know Minnesota is colder right now, but it was still quite cold to be camping up here.

I regret not staying longer, but I was worried that the poor roads were taking a toll on my bike and I couldn't risk having my bike malfunction. So I began my descent down the western slopes and on towards Oaxaca, the capital city of Oaxaca, the state.

Did I mention that I was camping at 3,200 meters? That's almost 10,500 feet. That's pretty high up there.