A day trip to the volcano--El Tacana

So we made it safely to and back from el Tacana today, and the trip was well worth the effort and the stress over whether we were going to destroy the doctor's car. (We did not.) Greg was quite liberated by his position in the driver's seat. Whole new vistas open up when one is not confined to combi routes and so forth, and we spent a good deal of time off the beaten track. Of course, the usual sibling behavior emerges soon after settling into the familiar surroundings of a car interior, and it wasn't long until the squabbling became annoying and we had to expel one of our members and make him jog alongside. As you can see, he was a pretty good sport about it.



So el Tacana is a giant dormant volcano about an hour's drive from the city of Tapachula. The road there consists of long stretches of lush, green lowlands, followed by winding narrow roads along steeper terrain through small villages, and finally you get to tiny pueblos with mostly rocky dirt roads that dead end into trails that head up the mountain. In the lowlands are several old coffee plantations, or finchas, which were built mostly by Germans, Chinese, and Japanese. Some of these have been turned into boutique hotels, others into restaurants like the one we ate lunch at in San Domingo: "la Casa Grande." The grounds were lovely and contained a small, refreshing pool that we quickly emptied of locals with our boisterous game of "daddy throws the boy as far he can." The lunch was good, if a little stale. I suspect it was reheated from el desayuno, which is what we get for eating las comidas at odd hours (noon instead of 2 or 3pm). Mahlon and Baxter were taken a little by surprise when their hamburguesas, ordered "solamente con queso," arrived without the "carne."



We continued up from there towards the looming mountain, which disappeared and reappeared from behind wispy wandering clouds as we approached. The route between small towns seemed to be perched upon a ridge between mountains, with steep drop-offs into thick jungle on either side. There was a bit of nausea in the back seat, but no follow-through, over this fact. Here is the obligatory foot photo with el Tacana in the foreground--for my old compadres who know such a shot is required with every road trip.



Our ultimate destination was Union Juarez, a small, friendly town about an hour up from Tapachula. Apparently one can hike on from there for the 2- day ascent to the top, with an overnight stop along the way in a hut. I don't think I need to add that we did not opt for the overnight hut stay on this trip (or, as Aragorn would say, "Today is not that day!"). We did however see several people (mostly old abuelos, or grampas, actually) heading up on foot, each of them wearing very little and carrying a large machete. Here is a picture of one of them. His name is Julio. He was happy to pose for a picture, but he insisted on buttoning up his shirt and he refused to hold his machete. I had to take a step back to get it in the picture. Julio......



When I asked him why he was hiking up the volcano, he said because he liked it. Fair enough.



Many of the houses in Union Juarez impressed me for the obvious pride of ownership. Most are neat and clean in appearance, even those which clearly are home to families in great poverty.



Many, like the one below, have family emblems or crests over the front door announcing the surname of the family living there.



Several were home to gardeners who, making the most of a temperate and moist climate, used plants in interesting ways to decorate their abodes. Here is my favorite:



We stopped for home made ice creams at a family-run coffee business (more on this later, I am sure, by our resident coffee addict--er, expert), and enjoyed a spontaneous tour as well as a small dog they keep in the back, who--according to the boys--could "jump about 5 feet in the air!"



There is much more to be said about el Tacana, but I will leave you with this thought. See this picture of the local school? With the basketball court overlooking a volcano in the distance and a giant precipice in the foreground? Mahlon's comment: "I bet they lose a lot of balls."



Yes, perhaps they do. But the real question is, where do those balls end up--in Guatemala or in Mexico? Hmm. To Be Continued....