THIS JOURNEY to the Transcontinental Volcánicas Montañas ⁶ which in fact are where the butterfly sanctuaries are located, begins in the rain and even thought I can see mountains in all directions, most are covered with fog and clouds.

Despite the fact that they are a bit pricey I decide to take the toll roads because as I have been told, the toll roads are the best roads. Still, even on these roads, there are places that could use some major work.

I am awake with the need to go to the baño. When the district overseer asked about how I was going to take care of this need, what I did not explain is that I use a bucket with a triple plastic shopping bag liner, which works really well in a pinch. So far on this journey, I have only had to use the bucket this way once. After finishing, I just tie the first bag closed, drop it in the second, tie the second bag and drop it in the third bag and finally drop the package in the trash; no mess and nothing to clean except for washing my hands. Methinks this technique has been designed with the great tribulation in mind, but I will use it whenever there is a need to do so here in México.

One thing I have learned since crossing the border is when ever you go into a public restroom, you need to bring your own paper with you because very few baños have paper and most in the cities do not even have seats. Still, I find that gas stations along the highways do have bath rooms and the farther you get away from the border, the cleaner and better stocked they are. In the cities, it is a different story as there are few public bathrooms that have anything one could calll nice accommodations.

Also, in the evening, when I know that there may not be a place to go in the morning, I purposely do not eat much for supper, often, I only drink a meal replacement shake. ⁷

Upon leaving this morning, just to the west of Monterrey, I cross into the state of (3) Coahuila. Driving further south, I enter the state of (4) San Luis Potosi taking the bypass around each of the cities. Somewhere in this part of Mexico I cross the latitude call the Tropic of Cancer. ⁸

Soon after, I begin driving on the back highway to San Miguel. I notice how the stores along the street are quite narrow and often have a residence above.

As I continue south on the highway, I stop at a location where I see a hawk with a cord holding the bird to a short fence post and get out my camera to take a photo of the bird. Later I determine that the bird was a Harris′ Hawk. A young boy comes running out to greet me but I have my photo and begin to drive away, but I turn and wave to the boy.

I arrive at San Miquel de Allende in the state of (5) Guanajuanto (GT) just before sunset. Immediately, I notice that from where I came in, it is all down town.

As I continue into San Miguel, the twilight encroaches quickly. Driving around this city, I look for a good place to park for the night and stop in town in front of a video store. Many of the down town streets have signs limiting the number of hours you can park, but I walk about and do not see any ′no parking′ or ′limited parking′ signs here. I trust it will be safe to park here, pull close to the curb and put up my window covings.

Finally, I climb into the back and get comfortable for the night. (Day 11)

As the dayspring slowly illumes the sky, I write in my journal. From outside, I hear the bumping noise from the tires as the cars rumble up the cobblestone streets. I have been writing for about an hour now, endeavoring to complete my entry from several previous days. Although I have a candle, I do not light it because I am coming to learn where all the keys on the keyboard are located. Still, occasionally I must fire it up because I do not know them all as yet. It is after seven now and daylight is becoming pronounced, however, there have been people walking about since very early.

Earlier, when I first awoke, I did step outside to walk around a little and I had the strange feeling that I was somewhere in France or (or possibly Quebec) and need to say "Bon Jour" to people passing by, but no one here would understand me. Upon returning to my van, a man approaches and ask in English, Could you help me some work, I will wash car for one dollar. However, since he has neither a bucket nor a rag, I tell him No thank you, climb back into my van and continue journal writing.

The day rushes by as I pen poetic and I fast from food the entire day so that I do not have need to go to the bathroom, of which I have no idea where to find one. At about five this evening I open the sliding door to my van and emerge. Immediately, one of the street persons ask if I want my van wiped down. Again, I reply "no gracias" and turn away from the person. They take this as a definite no.

Earlier this week, in the ministry there are the street auto-wipers who come up to your vehicle and begin to wipe it clean and in doing so, they expect you to pay. There is only one way to respond to these people to make then stop and that is to hold up you hand with your fore finger straight up and wag your finger back and forth. Apparently this means that you will not pay them anything because they frown and stop immediately. (Day 12)

Today I reach a major milestone in my desire for retirement; I change from a four digit midget (which in countdown language, is when one has only a few days left to go in counting with four digits) to a triple digit giant, (which means, in countdown language, one has the largest number of three digits in the count down). This countdown language is what I learned to do when in the military and waiting for my tour to end. Nevertheless, I now have less than a thousand days before retirement, but even so, that′s still two years and nine months.

This morning I awake a little later than normal, the sun had just begun to rise and then I began to explore San Miguel. I do not have a map and the GPS only shows the main through ways so I just begin driving. In no time I come to a large park, find a spot for the jammer, begin walking through the park and find a bathroom.

Then, while walking along on the cobblestone walkway, I notice there is a water faucet not very far from where the jammer is parked and get an idea. I walk back to the jammer, get out my bucket, fill it with water and begin washing.

After finishing the jammer, I get a fresh bucket of water and take a shower right next to the van. It turns out to be a cozy spot and I feel really fresh and clean afterwards. I wish I would have found this location the first night because it would have been a lot quieter, especially since it is off of the main street and all the noise coming from the traffic.

Once finished cleaning, I continue to explore this city park where I find beautiful brick and stone walk ways as well as gardens all over the park together with water fountains, even a playground for the kids, a winding creek complete with a foot bridge, several pieces of artwork, and well crafted stairways.

After a walk providing me some exercise, I return to my van to continue my tour of San Miguel and see narrow cobblestone streets, beautiful stone masoned homes with elaborate wooden entrances and draped with flower covered vines.

I am totally enthralled with what I have seen thus far until I am allowed passage through one of these entrance ways into a whole other world of exquisite inner courtyards filled with tropical palms, amazing patio rock work, hanging plants and wrought iron furniture amidst beautiful hand carved stone art. I am not sure what I am to think about all this European styled charm and beauty.

While wondering about the possibility of the many more treasures concealed behind the numerous closed doors of San Miguel de Allende that I will not soon get to experience, I find myselƒ driving south out of town hoping to arrive this evening at the nature preserve for the monarch butterflies.

The route begins first on a federal highway, in the state of Querétaro (6), then I have to turn onto a couple of state highways in the state of México (7). After taking one local road, in five miles or so, I come to a point where the road is closed.

I get out to talk to the construction workers and the foreman tells me that I have to return to the highway and go further west before turning south again. It appears that the government pays local people to build the roads. The materials are dropped off and the person contracted begins to work. I don′t know how the worker gets paid but it must be a good pay for these people to do this kind of hard work.

After returning to the highway, I drive west to the highway he directed me to and then after driving south for ten miles, I come upon my first official butterfly sign at an elevation of over ten thousand one hundred feet. I continue on the same highway up to and cross a pass above ten thousand four hundred feet, enter into the state of Michoacán (8) and find the entrance to the Mariposa Monarch park just a hundred feet inside of the state. I drive into the park and take a reading for the coordinates (19° 39′ 39.5" N, 100° 15′ 59" W) as well as the elevation (10,300 feet).

After sitting at the entrance for a few minutes, Nicolas walks up and asks if he can help me. We communicate some by my limited knowledge of spanish and using my translation book. Then he ask me if I need a place to camp and I tell him yes. He says to follow him and then him leads the way across a field to where there is a primitive campsite that has a fire burning in a concrete fire pit. He helps me park and then gets more firewood to stoke the fire to a size he must think I want.

I ask him "How much does it cost to camp?" and he says "fifty pesos." I guess he measures the cost by the size of the fire he makes.

I sit for a while, share my bread with him and then take a photo of him before he leaves. Next, I retire to my sleeping birth and do some writing and reading before going to sleep. This first butterfly park is an easy location to drive to as it is located adjacent to a state highway.

My plans are to tour this butterfly park first thing in the morning and afterwards, drive to the city of Valle de Brave and attempt to locate the kingdom hall. This will be the first congregation of the ones the branch provide for me that I will try to visit. I hope to make the meeting tomorrow night and then stay for the Sunday meeting. Other than the address on the list, I am not sure what to expect. (Day 13)

The official name of this park is Reserva de la Biosfera Mariposa Monarca-Sierra Chincoa. I awake at seven and get out to check the temperature. Nicolas walks up and I ask him for the baño and he takes me into the park bunk house. Afterwards, he asks me if I will go to see the Monarca and I tell him yes. I drive to the gate, he charges me thirty pesos and says it is a one kilometer to the parking.

I drive slowly on the gravel road a bit apprehensive not knowing what to expect but finally come upon what appears to be a campsite consisting of a number of wooden huts arranged in a u-shape with a few of the huts with smoke rising from within. I arrive at the compound, drive into the parking lot and a young girl about eight or nine years old waves at me to come to her and then she points to where I am to park.

She waits patiently as I gather my things for the walk that awaits me. Granted, I still do not know what is up ahead but I finally get out of my van and then she begins speaking in Spanish and waving for me to follow her. She takes me directly into the compound to the first hut. A young woman (probably in her mid thirties) walks out and asks me, You want comida, food? and I ask To eat now? She nods her head yes but I reply to her, No, I will be back later and then I will eat. She gives me a big smile and goes back into the hut.

I notice this woman′s cocina is fully operational with a fire in the stove, clean dishes on the table and a washing area for her guests. This is quite the place here on the mountain above ten thousand feet in elevation and a hundred miles from the nearest major city. (However, when driving here, I had noticed that despite this being an isolated location, there are many small villages all about the area.)

Walking further into the compound, most huts appear either empty or not open yet. I walk through the compound looking for a trail or something to take me to where I can see the mariposa and at the back of the compound near the ticket booth and rear gate, an older woman approaches me. It appears to me that she is the gate keeper because she asks me if I want to see the mariposa. When I tell her Sí, mariposa, she calls out someone′s name and I hear from further back in one of the huts some one answering. Then she calls out again and another person answers from somewhere in the nearby forest.

These people have got a unique system going here. Soon an older gentleman walks up and in Spanish introduces himself as the guide. Also using Spanish, I ask if he speaks English and he replies No. which makes me glad that I have brought my translation book. Meanwhile, the young girl who parked me has been dogging me each step I take all the way through the compound.

What I do not catch on to at this time, however, is that there is a drama unfolding before me here in this high elevation compound, one that began with the young girl who parked me and then directed me into the first hut. In fact the girl is the woman′s oldest daughter and her mother sent her daughter to bring me back into her kitchen.

Although I will fully understand it much later, at this time I remain unaware that this drama continues and is unfolding before me even now. The gate keeper woman is married to the guide and has secured work for him. Also, I see but do not pay attention to the sneer the gate keeper woman gives the young girl and neither do I know at this time that apparently, she has told her husband to ditch the girl and bring me back to eat in her kitchen in order for their family to receive more of my American dollars. ⁹

The guide leads the way and soon we come to a corral with two horses already saddled and ready to go. Here, another man, a horseman (and probably the gate keeper woman′s son) approaches and asks me, in Spanish, if I would like to rent a caballo (horse) to which I tell him that I would prefer to walk rather than ride on a horse. I do stop to think about ridding, how it would make this mountain climb easier, but choose to walk instead. Nevertheless, after all is said and done, the right choice for everyone concerned at this time is for me to take the footpath. ¹⁰

We then begin to walk through the wide entrance area past the corrals and uphill along the horse path. In about a hundred meters we veer to the left up and through a pasture until we come upon a path which is only for hikers. I comment that this trail is so much better than the wide horse trail. We come upon some great viewpoints where I take several photos.

Then, the guide says something to the young girl that has been following us, and I turn to see her make a face that tells me that he had told her to turn back. Yes, she had a large frown on her face. I then turned back to her and tell her, especially so that the guide could hear me, No, you may come with us. while making gestures with my hands to her. The girl then smiles wide and runs to catch up with us. For the next few kilos, I continue to turn around, smile and wave to her to keep up. When she catches up to me, I give her a little pat on the head each time.

It is at this time that I begin to sense, here in this remote mountain location, there is an intense competition for this gringo′s favor. The guide is doing what the old woman told him to do, that is to try to get rid of the girl. Still, the entire drama has not unfolded to me as yet. Throughout this journey, I encourage the young girl to keep up with the pace of the adults. Meanwhile, the guide is describing to me all kinds of plant life, some of which I already know and say "Sí, entiendo pinos" which when translated means: "Yes, I already know of the pine tree." The guide does tell me many things that I have not yet learn about, especially two of the local edible mushrooms that he harvests, one that he calls it la morchella. ¹¹

Also, he tells me a story of a person who was hiking in this mountain and lost his step, fell down the mountain and broke his leg. It then took several days, after applying a splint to get the man off of the mountain. The guide made a lot of jesters with his hands to tell me that story.

Next, we come to a sign warning us to be quite, because the butterflies are hibernating. Soon after, I see a lot of the monarchs which have fallen to the ground.

The guide tells me that most of them are still alive and fell from there perch high above. He uses a twig to allow the butterfly to grab hold and then he puts it back on a nearby leaf. As we walk carefully though the butterfly drop zone, there are many butterflies that are on lower leaves. All along, I keep looking upward at the numerous colonies of monarch butterflies about a hundred feet above us on the upper branches of the trees. During the journey, and after viewing the Monarchs in the hibernation location, we climb behind and above the hibernation area and the guide tells me that once, even all of these trees were filled with the butterflies.

Meanwhile, the young girl is keeping up with us, staying ahead of me now. I am having a hard time catching my breath because I suspect we are now at or over eleven thousand feet. She not only maintains the pace, the young girl begins to converses with the old guide quite a bit. As we walk along the trail, their is a large tree fall that blocks the way and we have to walk around it. Then there is a large rock that we stop at to rest and soon after we come to an outcrop of rocks with another great view.

It seems to me that the guide and the young girl are continuing to bond. At this point, the young girl takes the lead to climb up to the summit, however, she continues to ask the guide as to the best way to proceed. Soon, we arrive at a large opening with two large benches and we take a brief rest. The young girl lays prone on the bench and I lay on the ground and put my feet up on the bench so as to rest my feet. Also, it is apparent from the horse droppings that we have returned to the horse path.

From this point it is all downhill back to the compound and upon arriving, I have to pay the park entrance fee and get my ticket. I then realize that Nicolas has been running a scam to get the eighty pesos from me earlier. Esta bien! It is good!

I pay the park entrance fee, sign the guest register and because I hear another guide speaking English, I ask him how much I should pay my guide. He tells me that the guides work for tips. Ah! I say in reply and then pull out from my wallet a fifty peso paper bill and hand it to my guide and tell him that he was a superb guide.

I notice that the young girl is still at my side, so I reach into my pocket, pull out a ten peso coin and give it to her saying that she was a very good guide also.

At this point, the old guide tries to direct me to his wife′s cocina so I may have something to eat and I tell him that I have already made plans for my lunch. I then walk through the compound with the young girl still at my side and arrive at the kitchen where I had promised the woman that I would return to have my meal.

At this time, the young girl walks into the kitchen and gets herself a drink. It is only now, that I realize in it′s entirety the drama that has been going on here above ten thousand feet. The girl had been directed by her mother to follow me to make sure that I return to her mother′s kitchen.

Still, I have great compassion for all of these people, even the old guide and his wife! Too, I am impressed by the tenacity of this young girl so as to follow this gringo and make sure he comes to her mother′s cocina. I also notice that the hair of both the mother and the daughter are braided and folded in the same method.

Furthermore, both the mother and the daughter are dressed modestly, just like the guide and his wife. Then, upon entering the hut, I ask for water to clean up and the mother says, Sí, retrieves a bowl, dips out some clean water and sets it on the table just outside. I walk over to the table, set the hat and my camera on the side and then wash my face and hands, then use my bandana to dry myselƒ.

Then, I walk back into the kitchen and the mother directs me to a seat where I sit down and put my hat, camera and translation book on the table. She then ask me what meat I want to eat and what drink and I tell her in Spanish that I would like vegetarian food and water. I am not too sure about eating meat in Mexico anymore, because the last time I did caused problems. She tells me that she understands and begins to prepare my meal.

Meanwhile, her young boy comes in and asks me to pour some fresca into his cup. I do so and then take a sip of my water and say Ahhh! The young toddler boy takes a sip of his drink and then says Ahhh! I really do like this family.

Soon, Leana, the mother brings a plate of hot food. There is nopalitas, onions, beans and tortillas which makes for a really good meal. Leana′s husband arrives and I introduce myselƒ and he says he is Senor Martina. Then all three, Senor Martina, Senora Leana and their daughter Lena all poise for a photo for me. After eating, I sit for a while and then get up and say Adios to this family and they say, No, please stay.

I tell them in my broken Spanish that I have to go to a meeting. When they question me about it, I tell them in Spanish that I am one of Jehovah′s Witnesses and will go to a reunión in Valle de Bravo. They reply Ahhh! This is one nice family and are all very modestly dressed, even the children. I wish I would have had some Spanish literature to give them but maybe there will be another day for that.

As I walk to my van a group of young girls who are in stark contrast to the Martina family, girls about nine to eleven years old and dressed up like whores come up to me with big smiles and ask me for dollars. I look at them sternly and reply: "Por qué? Why should I give you dollars? I don′t give my dollars to beggars, and definetly nor to whores." It was intended to be an insult and even though they did not understand my English, they get the message and leave. The, upon leaving the mariposa monarca preserve, I stop, get out and take one last photo from the road.

I drive south to Valle de Bravo and arrive about four o′clock. This is one of the addresses on the list I received from the Mexican branch and it even has two phone numbers for the English congregation. After trying both numbers and not having any success, I park at a grocery store, a large one similar to the chain stores in the US. It begins to rain and that is no good because I just washed my van. I try to find a WiFi hot-spot in town but there doesn′t seem to be any.

Frustrated, I drive west towards Morelia while the sun sets. Now, this is one of the taboos in México, that is: Do not drive after dark! However, I find that if you drive slow enough you can stop before you hit any animals, besides most Méxican farmers corral there animals at night. Too, driving slow allows you to see any other obstacle that may come along like the topes. ¹²

I have found it true that many people in the US are afraid to drive at night and these fear that all kinds of things may happen just because it is dark. To the contrary, I have found that night time in the US, (except possibly on some weekends,) is the best time to travel because there are few on the road except truckers. Too, in México, the majority of the vehicles on the road at night are truckers and if I am cautious, night time driving is not as bad as reported. There is still the worst of all reasons for not driving in México at night and that is because of those notorious bandits. There have been a few highly publicized news articles about families who have been abducted by bandits and like any highly publicized event, the public assumes that such an event is commonplace in México. Thus, because of the few overly publicized tragedies, this has put a dread in the hearts of million of Americans keeping them from ever stepping foot in México.

Finally, I arrive at the national park, it being about nine o′clock, and you know, I didn′t see a single bandito. As a matter of fact, there was a wreck on the highway and we all had to wait after dark for almost an hour before the police came to clear the road. I wait patiently with the others drivers until after all the police vehicles with their flashing blue lights drive by to open up the highway which allows me and the other drivers to continue safely on our way. ¹³

This has been one of the most amazing days that I have enjoyed in a long time, and imagine, it all began with a sojourn in the park bunk house baño. (Day 14)