Monday - January 18th - Zacatitos to Santa Rita Hot Springs
Our plans for today are to go to the Santa Rita Hot Springs. Art has been twice and does not want to go again so the boys and I leave shortly after 9:00 A.M. stopping at Baja Books to look for a reef fish book for John. John finds what he is looking for but it is expensive; $45 and I buy two Baja Maps for $20. We stop for gas in San Jose and drive North towards La Paz stopping along the way at the Tropic of Cancer visitor center just south of Santiago. There is little more here than a 6 foot diameter globe, girdled with a line marking the Tropic of Cancer. I take the required photo of the boys standing beside it and pointing to our location on the globe.
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| Tropic of Cancer |
Santiago is just a few kilometers ahead and we turn left and drive into the picturesque town. I circle the zocalo and proceed left out of town stopping a few short blocks down at the El Palomar Motel and Restaurant. We choose a table in their sunny garden courtyard and order an early lunch. John and I share an excellent Mexican combination platter and Will orders breakfast. The garden is overgrown and the rooms look very simple and in need of some maintenance, but it has that Baja charm.
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| El Palomar Restaurant, Santiago |
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| Hiking down to the Santa Rita Hot Springs |
This is my third trip to the Santa Rita Hot Springs and I remember it being an adventure. The directions are to turn off on a dirt road just before the Santiago Zoo and follow the power lines up into the mountains to the Hot Springs. We will come to a rancho and will turn right and follow the windy rocky road further up until we come to the parking area for the hot springs. I drive out of town, look for signs to the Zoological Gardens, make a right at the first “Zoo” sign and a left at the second “Zoo” sign. Just before the Zoo, I see the dirt road and make an abrupt right turn and follow the power lines for many kilometers. Initially, the dirt road is well graded but we cross a sandy wash where I’m happy to have four wheel drive. Occasionally, a road branches off but I stay right, keeping my course with the power lines. As the road climbs, we pass small ranches where cows graze and wander in the road. I turn right at the crossroads of several ranches and here the road becomes steep and rocky. There are several hairpin turns where I creep along over rocks, dropping into ruts and worry that I might encounter another vehicle on this one lane road and wonder how I might maneuver around it? John is incredulous that we were able to drive a standard rental car up this road. At the top of the next rise, a woman stands beside her rental car off on the shoulder of the road. Her husband has walked on ahead to survey the road to see if it is passable for their car. She asks how much further ahead the hot springs are and I offer her what advice I can but truly don’t remember. As it turns out, we are nearly there and arrive at the hot springs minutes later. A Ranchero sits in the shade of a tree, taking the 50 peso entrance fee and recording the names, birth dates and nationalities of each visitor. He motions us towards the direction of the trail and feeling like a veteran, I tell him that I know my way and the three of us hike on ahead. The trail drops down towards the gorge, meandering past several lovely shaded campsites, picnic areas and a latrine. We scramble over a few rocks, reach a trickling side stream of the springs and duck through the overhanging reeds and trees before popping out at the pristine, Santa Rita Hot Springs. Slabs of rock slant upward forming the walls of the gorge. Perhaps 15 people are soaking in the springs, many of them my age. A clutter of back packs and clothing is scattered around the edges of the rocky pool. We stake out our territory, stash our belongings at the edge of the pool and the boys immediately shed their outer clothing and slip into the water. I have on my Teva water sandals and my bathing suit underneath my clothes. I slip off my jeans but keep my long sleeved cotton shirt on for modesty and to keep from getting sunburnt. There are signs prohibiting the wearing of lotions or sunscreen because it will pollute the water.
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| Santa Rita Hot Springs |
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| Santa Rita Hot Springs |
I can tell that the boys are initially a little underwhelmed with the hot springs. With the exception of one youngish family, everyone in the pool is geriatric. Within minutes, John and Will are exploring the cold pools down stream. I sit at the lower edge of the hot pool where I have a partial view of the adjoining cold pools below. There is a family with an infant and two boys approximately age 4 and 7. The mother is preoccupied with changing the baby on the shore and the father is watching his 7 year old boy in the hot pool. The cold pools, where their middle boy is playing is slightly below and out of their immediate sight. John and Will are about to explore further down the river and into the larger mossy pool when John notices the 4 year old bobbing in the water. John watches him sink and rise, sink and rise and initially believes him to be playing but suddenly fears that the child is in trouble….water over his head and unable to swim. From where I sit, I cannot see the boy but I do see John reach down into the pool and pull up a slender arm, connected to a small boy. John puts the child over his knee and pounds him on the back. In the meantime, the father is making his way down toward the pool but I fear that had John not been there at that moment and time, the scenario would have been different. The child would have certainly drowned and needed CPR. Had the boy sunk to the bottom of the murky pool and the father not been able to find him….the outcome might have been tragic. The father throws his son over his shoulder and the boy’s blank stare tells me he is terribly frightened or in shock. The father mistakenly thanks Will for rescuing his son and Will gives the credit to John. John tells me that he feels badly because he watched the young boy drown for some time, thinking that he was playing, before realizing that the child was in serious trouble.
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| Above the Hot Pools of Santa Rita Hot Springs |
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| Posted Rules |
There are tiny leaches in the lower mossy pool so John and Will change their course and head upstream. I manage to keep up with the them until we come to a large crystal pool with a polished rock waterfall slide. The mammoth rock slabs and boulders on our side of the shore are impassable so John and Will wade to the other side. I follow slowly and climb some ways up onto the jumble of rocks on the far shore. When I can go no further, I settle down to wait while John and Will head up the canyon. The large pool below my perch is crystal clear, the weather is mild and the palm trees rustle in the breeze. I wait in this blissful oasis, watching ducks glide among the reeds. John and Will return 30 minutes later, exhilarated and wanting to explore further up the canyon at another time.
We return to the hot springs pools and soak for twenty minutes before gathering up our belongings and hiking back to the car. John is surprised and delighted when I hand him the keys and tell him to drive us off of the mountain. He does a fine job of maneuvering the rocky roads but makes a wrong turn somewhere towards the bottom of the mountain and we pop out above a valley oaisis of palm trees. Ultimately, this is a good thing because we see signs to the Jorge Hot Springs and the waterfall and know that on out next trip, a right hand turn at the crossroads to the zoo might lead to a different adventure.
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| The Road Less Traveled |
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| Santiago Oasis |
I drive the ribbon highway back into San Jose stopping at the OXXO store for water, the A.T.M. for money and from there, we walk to the jewelry store where I have opals on hold. Unfortunately it is closed this Monday’s so I am not able to show John the stones I am interested in. I have trained him well and I value his opinion but will drive in tomorrow, Tuesday and make a decision on my own.
We power along the newly paved highway back to the Zacatitos turn off and drop down into our sleepy ocean side enclave. I squash avocados and chop onions and jalapeños to make guacamole to accompany our sundowner margaritas and wine. We watch the sun set over the “Witch Tit” Zacatitos skyline; the layered mountain montage morphing from shades of purple to steely gray. It is truly a majestic, purple mountain sunset. Will sautés mushrooms, onions and squash for our dinner enjoyed by the ambiance of solar lighting.
Will, John and I play cards and I lose badly.
