El Sol y La Montaña

The sun was out almost all day today, so as soon as the dew’d dried and it’d warmed up a bit (or to be more truthful: as soon as I got my lazy self out of bed—hey, it was Saturday), I grabbed my camera and walked the trail that winds down the mountain and eventually comes out in the city, ending on the main north-south street, Calle Alhóndiga, just north of Camino Real Guanajuato

(Trivia/local gossip: A taxi driver told me that this hotel, Camino Real, is owned by the daughter of former President Vicente Fox; and another person told me that her sibling now owns Casa Colorado, another exclusive hotel on the opposite side of the city in the mountains).

I’d walked this trail before, but didn’t have my camera with me and regretted it. Every time I walk it, there are new things to notice, new perspectives, new flowers, an uprooted cactus, strange tracks.

This is a view of the school, Instituto Miguel de Cervantes, from the trail. If you know where to look, you can almost see my little apartment.

Spencer, one of the students, told me that these cactus berries are good to eat as long as they're red. I tried some. They weren't bad and I'm still alive. Thanks, Spencer.

I often see hikers, joggers and even mountain bikers on the trail, but it was deserted except for me. And the big ants.

So many pretty surprises along the way ...

Here's another view toward the school. To the left of the photo you can see the stack from the mine in Valenciana.

Around another bend and still no one but me. And the ants. An Indiana Jones movie, minus the plot and action.

As soon as the path turned to the north side of the mountain, these little red flowers started popping into sight. Happy little flowers.

Across the valley, the Mina de Rayas and the cathedral at Cata comes into view.

I moseyed along, soaked in the vistas, took photos, got bit by big ants, broke my shoe, and barely made it back to my little apartment before I peed my pants. It was one of those times that I wished I were a man, if you catch my drift.

Later, after siesta, camera again in tow, I went the opposite direction, up the mountain to the cobblerock intersection at the Mina Valenciana, to the Loncheria Los Erizos to buy a couple of cokes.

Along the way there’s a trash trailer that’s for tires only, but there’s usually some household garbage scattered around. Enough food trash to attract opossums. Sometimes there's an unfortunately slow one squished on the cobblerocks nearby. Today there were two freshly murdered carcasses to walk around. Don’t worry, I don’t photograph road kill. It wouldn't do justice to the smell anyway.

As I neared the mine entrance, circled by little tourist tiendas, I heard a commotion and saw most of the shop venders standing outside, laughing, cheering and offering words of encouragement to three young men trying, unsuccessfully so far, to load up a horse into their trailer.

The horse was determined and let the handlers know it, as they pulled on ropes, pushed at the animal, and tried to coerce it into the trailer.

It took many tries with the horse balking and kicking and trying to bite at the ropes, and once the horse nearly escaped.

Finally the would-be vaqueros got their caballo loaded and slapped each other on the back and wiped the sweaty dust from their faces and clothes.

There was a round of applause as the vaqueros drove off toward Santa Rosa, and then the crowd dispersed. Several of the shopkeepers shook their heads, looking as disappointed as if they’d lost a bet.

As if the thunder wasn't a clue, it began to rain big drops and I walked as fast as was safe on the cobblerocks. I had forgotten about the dead trasheaters in the road. and when I grazed the fence on one side I startled one of the yard dogs or roofdogs and the concert of yapping and thunder began. It was still underway. to some extent, a full ten minutes after I reached my apartment.

I think these dogs must get in trouble if they don't bark at everything. They bark throughout the day (and night), for whatever reason. It can't be any kind of alarm. I haven't seen a person yet come out to see why the damn dogs are barking.