I certainly got what I expected, but it was by no means the long slog one might think. The first 100 km or so from Oaxaca were a fairly uneventful ride on the Autopista, but as I transitioned to the back roads and crested a rise in the otherwise fairly flat landscape, I was greeted with a site so spectacular I nearly ran off the road gawking at it.
This was Pico de Orizaba, or Citlaltepetl, the highest peak in Mexico, third-highest in North America, and the second-highest volcano in the world after Mt. Kilimanjaro. I'd seen mountains for much of the trip, and a few volcanoes already, but something about Citlaltepetl's glacier-capped peak held my attention like none other. I ate a quick lunch in view of the mountain, and then continued on. I'd seen Mexico change nearly every day I'd been on the road, and today was no exception; the relatively flat plains of Oaxaca gave way to mountains once again, but with sheer, rust-red cliffs bordering the roads and forests covering nearly everything else. I realize that I'm wearing out the word "spectacular", but as the mountains climbed, the roads twisted, and the valleys unfolded below, it was hard to call it anything else. I was only a short way into the state of Oaxaca, but I was already floored by the natural beauty I was witnessing.
I arrived in Oaxaca as the sun went down, greeted by Clarissa, my host for the next few days, and her extremely friendly dog. She first insisted that I try a tlayuda, one of Oaxaca's signature dishes; something like a large quesadilla full of Oaxaca's signature quesillo, refried beans, and peppers, it was delicious. Over tlayudas, we discussed all the things I needed to do and see in Oaxaca, and I immediately decided to extend my stay another day; even two full days probably wouldn't be enough, but timetables are what they are.
The next morning, I woke up early, jumped on the bike, and made the short but steep ride up above Oaxaca to Monte Alban. Dating back to approximately 500 B.C., Monte Alban was one of the largest and oldest Zapotec cities, and though excavations have been going on since the 1930s, many parts of the city remain buried. The parts that were accessible to the public were more than enough to convey a sense of the sprawling scale of Monte Alban; I had ridden through many modern-day towns on my journey that were smaller than the ancient city I was now exploring.
The degree of preservation was astounding as well, with many of the stone carvings on building exteriors clearly visible, and several free-standing stelae returned to their original positions. It made it easier to imagine what the city must have been like in its heyday as one of the most important trading and religious centers in all of pre-Colombian Mexico.
After thoroughly exploring Monte Alban, I rode back down the mountain and into the historic center of Oaxaca to look around on foot. The center of Oaxaca contains a large number of art and history museums, and is full of colorful colonial-era architecture similar to that of Puebla. Photos of the city proved difficult, however, as the streets of the historic district were filled with vendor tents and stands selling every variety of clothing and souvenirs imaginable, which fit with Oaxaca's history as an important trading center.
Clarissa insisted that we go dancing that night, and after a stop at a local Mezcal bar, another product Oaxaca is well known for, we ended up at one of the more popular salsa bars in town. I realized very quickly that I'd forgotten nearly all of the steps I'd learned a decade ago in Ecuador and later on, but a crash-course refresher and a little more Mezcal ensured that I still had fun. I enjoyed telling stories of my trip to a few other guys wondering what a gringo was doing in a place only locals typically knew about, and good times were had by all.
The next day, I set off on a two-stop day trip. My first destination was Mitla, a small town approximately 45 minutes east of Oaxaca that contained a thriving artisan's market and another very well-preserved Zapotec ruin. The ruins weren't nearly as large as those of Monte Alban the previous day, but the degree of preservation was amazing; several rooms of intricate stonework were open to the public with very little degradation, along with two underground tombs displaying similar detail. Paint used in the original construction was even visible in places!
After perusing the markets for a bit and then realizing that I didn't have room for anything substantial since I'd taken all the bags off the bike, I hopped back on and moved on to Hierve el Agua. Even family friends of mine who live in Mexico hadn't heard of this park, but my host insisted that I had to see it for myself. Following Google's directions from the carretera and then hand-painted signs in a small town pointing the way, I had unwelcome flashbacks to my ordeal in Real de Catorce when the pavement abruptly ended and took a steep turn up a mountain. "Second time's the charm, and don't get off the throttle," I thought to myself. I needn't have worried; although the surface was crisscrossed with ruts, the ascent wasn't nearly as steep as the road that had cost me my windshield and mirror, and the surface was almost entirely packed dirt and gravel, which the Twin blitzed through with almost serene ease. My first impression of Hierve el Agua was that it looked like any other resort; a set of cabins surrounded by food and drink stands. It took me a minute to figure out that past all the vendors sat natural springs and pools that formed the top of a natural phenomenon I'd never seen before.
Hierve el Agua is famous for its cascadas petrificadas, or petrified waterfalls, and the name is not an exaggeration; over thousands of years, calcium-rich water from the springs has trickled over the nearby cliffs, leaving behind deposits that eventually formed huge, flowing formations down their sides. Canals that appear to be part of an irrigation system constructed in the Zapotec era are visible in parts of the park, but have not been fully excavated yet. The springs continue to bubble steadily, feeding a series of man-made pools on top of the smaller of the two cliffs making up the primary formations, and adding to both the cascada chica and lower cascada grande, the real treat of the trip. Though the trail down the cliff leading to the cascada grande was somewhat challenging and had me out of breath by the time I got back up, the payoff was worth it. The cascada grande drops nearly 100 vertical feet off the cliff that holds it, and looks almost otherworldly from any angle.
My host was right; Hierve el Agua had definitely been worth the trip, and was even worth the rain showers that followed me all the way back to Oaxaca. Between the ancient history of the area, the mix of modern and old city that I'd seen, a taste of the nightlife, and the amazing natural features, I'd had possibly the most complete experience of any city I'd yet visited, given the short time I had in each.
Those petrified waterfalls are intriguing
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