NEVER hike with a German

We had been apprised by our Inglewood neighbours, Stan and Marion, of an informal hiking group that went twice a week from Delia's campground in Guayabitos to Lo de Marcos. We were assured that the hike was spectacular, taking in jungle climbs over the mountains along with stretches along the beach. The group had a favourite restaurant in Lo de Marcos where lunch was had before taking a colectivo (Mexican bus/taxi) back to Guayabitos.

Liz took a bike ride to Delia's and met Lutz, the Teutonic hikenfuhrer, and had the four of us pencilled in to join the group for the Tuesday hike.

The launch time of 7:30 AM (to beat the heat of the day) meant an earlier-than-usual reveille for the boys, but Liz managed to have us all dressed, fed and on our bikes in time to make the short ride to Delia's. We arrived at 7:29 by Liz' watch, only to find that the group had already left the gate! While Remy locked up the bikes, Lutz ran out and whistled down Walter, one of the hikers (and another German), to wait for us and show us the way.

Now the boys were not in a mind space particularly well suited for the kind of effort that was before us. It was early, they had been force-fed breakfast and ( we are not sure why our blog has suddenly gone yellow and is underlined- oh well)only knew that they had 20 km and four hours of hiking ahead of them. Coupled with this was the fact that our guide was of the nationality that had invented the blitzkrieg and was obviously chafing at having landed the responsibility to guide us. Liz, as the family organizer of the event and the one that had negotiated with Lutz to include us on the trip, was placed in the unsavory position of feeling responsible to all. It was obvious that Bowen's 8 year-old legs were not suited to keeping up with Walter's blistering pace, and our desire to see the countryside and take the opportunity to look at butterflies was obviously at odds with the singleminded intensity with which he was covering ground. Remy had flashbacks to some of the forced marches he had had to do during basic training in the army. Walter was forced to wait on us as the route was not signed in any way and involved tracks through the jungle, walks through farmers' fields and, at one point, cutting through a construction site. Finally, Walter suggested a turn-off on the trail which meant shortening the hike considerably for us, which we gladly accepted. 

As Walter's dust settled gently on us, we were all able to relax and enjoy our surroundings- except, of course, our encounter with some terrifying cattle. OK, maybe not all of us were terrified, and the photo will indicate who was not frightened. The day was incredibly hot and we were all covered with a thick layer of the flour-like dust that constitutes the soil in this area. But the jungle was beautiful, as were the beaches we passed, some of which are sea turtle preserves.

We hiked over another mountain where we took the left turn off the path and travelled down to the little town of Monteon. We passed an adobe brick factory and found turtles in the streams. We were notable in Monteon, which does not see a lot of tourist traffic- OK, none- and sat down at a restaurant on the square to let the boys enjoy the bottles of Coke that we had promised/bribed them. When it came time to use the washroom, we discovered that one had to pass through the bed room of the family that ran the restaurant to use their bathroom, which was in need of a good cleaning and a toilet seat!

We fetched ourselves a colectivo from Monteon back to Guayabitos, which in itself is an interesting cultural experience. When we returned to Delia's to collect our bikes, we were told that the hiking group tries each weekend to beat their time from the weekend before! Not really the sightseeing mentality that we had. As well, Liz' competitive nature was challenged a couple of times by Walter, who intimated that we were not able to keep up. She wants to take him on in a head-to-head hike and show him who is in better shape! Of course, Bowen was not able to keep the pace, but considering his and his brother's ages, both boys still out-performed any one of their peers. We were both quite proud of them and quite enjoyed the hike with them.

When we returned to our campground, we found that our new acquaintances Jeff, Cindy and (another) Liz had returned from their fishing trip heavily laden with gold - dorado, that is. They had hooked three very large fish, the biggest of which was about 35 pounds and the other two not much smaller. They passed the word around the park and that evening, right behind our van, much of the population of the park gathered to partake of the fish which Jeff had grilled up. Another of the campers had negotiated with a family band of marimba players to come to the El Flamingo to play during dinner, for the princely sum of M$100 (about $10 in our coin). A hat was passed for tips after they had played for an hour, and they probably tripled their earnings! The fish was very tasty, too, and we heartily enjoyed our second party in a week.

-Remy