San Javier, Mexico
BY MATT HORNSBY The Plan...
My wife Rebecca and I flew to Loreto, Mexico, to spend Christmas with my parents who were spending three months camping and traveling around the Baja. Aſter a few days of local sightseeing and beachcombing, we were all feeling the need to see the real Baja, and get some exercise to boot. A guidebook article suggesting the cave paintings at San Javier, about 30km away, caught our eye. Checking with the very helpful hotel concierge, we found out that guided tours to the cave paintings were over USD$100 per person, much more than we were willing to spend. My parents had heard of some people who drove to San Javier and asked at the police station for a guide, so we decided to give that a shot.
The Drive... We started out with a heſty breakfast at
Del Boracho, where my parents already had established a rapport with the Canadian owners. When we told them what we were up to, they scribbled out a note in Spanish to hand to someone in San Javier explaining that we were looking for a guide to the cave paintings. Tey also offered to make us a bagged lunch, but we had already prepared sandwiches and snacks.
26 RVT 142 • JULY/AUGUST 2011
Te road to San Javier starts in various
locations, depending upon who you ask or what signposts you believe. Aſter 10 minutes in the wrong direction, we eventually got onto the right road and were on our way. Te road is quite rough, and were were thankful for being in my dad’s four-wheel-drive pickup. Winding our way uphill, through riverbeds, up snake-like switchbacks and over washouts, the 32km drive ended up taking nearly two hours. Te area was desolate, with only the occasional shrine or ramshackle house as signs of life. Eventually we arrived in San Javier,
and were amazed by the difference in scenery. Te immaculate streets are paved in cobblestone, and well-tended gardens spilling colourful bougainvillea blossoms grace every sidewalk. We
found
the tiny police station, grabbed our phrasebook, and began an interpretive dance outlining what we were looking for. Te officers chuckled over our note, but aſter a bit more sign language, we finally convinced them that we were looking for a guide. Tey signaled for us to wait for five minutes -- or an hour -- and drove away in a cloud of dust. Some time later, a dusty gentleman showed up and we began negotations for the price. We agreed on 300 pesos ($30 US), and began
the introductions. Miguel, our new friend, started to climb into the back of our truck. As we had no idea where we were going, we convinced him that he was welcome to sit in the front and offer directions. About 20 minutes later, we arrived at
a small farmhouse at the base of a steep hill. Miguel found the owner of the house and obtained permission for us to cut through the farm to the start of the trail. We leſt the truck at the farmhouse and began our trek.
The Hike... I’m not sure if they have mountain
goats in Mexico, but they have Miguel. Our intrepid guide led us up a steep, rocky trail for two hours without breaking a sweat. When we stopped for water or a
Church of San Francisco Javier
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