14 December 2002
Mazatán the Hard Way
It is a bright sunny morning in paradise and we are ready for another adventure. Our traveling companions are also our guests in our bed and breakfast and the tour they have chosen is to El Capomo and then up the mountain to coffee country where we plan to stop at the small settlement of El Guayabal and head down to the hot springs at Jamurca for a picnic and swim.
These plans were changed, as you will see.
Our jeep is loaded with myself, Vicky, our tour guide,
and Bill and Nora Rudolph, who are from Canada. We also have an ice chest full of sandwiches, snacks and refreshments. Off we go in the direction of Las Varas, with a pit stop for gas. Down the highway we go, which is surrounded by green woods and fields of beans, tobacco and groves of tropical fruit. Shortly after passing the turnoff to Alta Vista we come to the junction that leads to El Capomo. Turning right we travel through a pretty valley, which is planted to more tropical fruits and row crops. After a few kilometers we arrive at the pueblo of El Capomo.
El Capomo is a typical farm town with the usual plaza and church. We stop under a shade tree and Vicky takes our guests for a stroll while I prepare coffee, which I roasted and ground this morning. Arabica coffee that comes from our own Nayarit mountains. After coffee and cookies we hop aboard and head out of town. At the town`s edge we note a very poor family that has nearly lost their roof. We stop and chat and give them a box of food (we always carry a little something for the poor).
Continuing on we come to El Mamey Grande. Just like
El Capomo, it is a place that has seen better days and many of the able bodied and young have left. Low world coffee prices for Robusta type coffee have been a disaster for the folks who depended on this lower altitude coffee for a living.
I normally don't like to get into politics or government criticism, but here I must say something. As many of you may know, Robusta type coffee is the more common type that can be seen in cans in, say, the super market.
It is not as desireable as Arabica that is grown in the higher altitudes. Up until a few years ago, the world coffee market was relatively stable, only effected by weather and other market conditions. The world bank, which is heavily underwritten by the U.S., saw, in it's infinite wisdom, the need to loan huge sums to Vietnam for the purpose of planting Robusta type coffee. The world market is now flooded. Wages in Vietnam are far below Mexico. The result. Numerous losses of work for the already poor. Small villages all but abandoned. Breaking up of families when the able bodied left for the cities or crossed the borders as illegal aliens. Some have started to plant other crops which adds to the drug
problem. The U.S. government spends billions to control drug and illegals, yet they underwrite programs that obviously contribute to both. Our tax dollars at work.
Anyway, we give some candy to the kids and turn left at the far side of the village and up a small road that first leads through a planted area and then into a fascinating wooded valley. The trees are tall and varied. There are many air plants. It is almost like a jungle. We are now near the end of the valley and we start to climb. The road is steep and deeply rutted . It tends toward shale in some spots and we almost slide back. Many places are narrow and the drop off steep. Not a place to bring the family car. We enter and leave a jungle in many spots. The view is becoming more spectacular. We can see all of the coast for some distance. We even see the island off of Rincon de Guayabitos. Beautiful!
Finally we reach the main road – a little better and not so steep. We turn right and go along side of the mountain. Soon we come to a couple of small ranchos that are an outpost of El Guayabal. Passing and continuing on we come to the very 
small settlement of El Guayabal. It consists of a couple of dozen houses but no one is around. Some houses are adobe but many others are what I call stick houses. Very small trees or limbs for walls that you can see through and whatever is handy for a roof. We get a feeling of loneliness. It is like a ghost town. Two of the homes look like they could be haciendas. One has a balcony above. I imagine myself living here. Standing on the upper balcony and looking down on my holdings. Hundreds of hectares of coffee. I am Don Roberto, coffee baron. I snap out of my trance and notice all of these homes without people. We know that the hurricane did a considerable amount of damage to the coffee here. Some say almost half of the crop is lost in this immediate area. We walk around and snap a few fotos. Soon a couple of coffee workers come by. One is riding a mule. PHOTO They say that there are only two families living here now and they have gone down to Mazatan for a religious holiday. They also tell us that the road to the hot springs at Jamurca has not been cleared since the hurricane and is impassable. Now what?
We talk things over and ask the man on mule back how much time to Mazatan from here. He tells us about an hour. On that basis we make a decision to go to Mazatan and then to Compostela and back down highway 200 to the hot springs. DREAM ON!! The one hour turned out to be three and a half hours.
We leave the town, crossing a small creek and start to climb again. Up and down but the scenery is beautiful. We cross many streams and start to pass through coffee areas that appear undamaged. There is a family of Huichol coffee workers. Two of the little ones are riding a horse, the rest are walking. We talk of road conditions. They tell us how cold it is at night. We give them some clothing and food. Back aboard and off again. There is a stream in front of us. There is no road on the other side. We see a few buildings and then come across a couple of residents. They show us the turnoff we had passed and we go back, crossing this larger stream and up the other side. This is another small coffee settlement. It appears to be about the same size as El Guayabal. A local tells us the name is Los Laureles. There are people here. Many are Indians.
Everyone is hungry so a lunch stop is made. We break out our ham and cheese sandwiches, potato chips, pickled beets, other goodies and drinks. This trip calls for a beer for the driver.
We talk things over and ask the man on mule back how much time to Mazatan from here. He tells us about an hour. On that basis we make a decision to go to Mazatan and then to Compostela and back down highway 200 to the hot springs. DREAM ON!! The one hour turned out to be three and a half hours.
The day is getting on. We have been on the road for more than an hour since El Guayabal. We ask a villager. How much time to Mazatan. The reply “one hour”. This just can't be, can it?
Back aboard and on we go. More coffee plants, all is green, more streams, climbing, descending; a mounted coffee 
worker here and there. We start to see civilization. There is an elderly man in a very small house. He tells us we are not far from Mazatan. He lives alone. He has a burro that heuses to get water in the valley below. He is very poor. We give him some food and talk a bit.
Soon we arrive in Mazatan. This is a very old town. More than 400 years old. It has seen many hard times. The Spanish, the French, Revolutionaries, Indians. We would like to spend more time here but it is getting late. We had been here before and talked with the self appointed village historian, Sr. Clemente and we would like to see him again but it is getting cold and we did not bring the sides or doors to the jeep. Another time. Passing through the village we travel a few kilometers on a dirt road, then we hit pavement. A few miles of this and dirt again ?? Now the main road, turn left and a few minutes to Compostela, the mountains, Las Varas and home. Another adventure on the BACK ROADS OF NAYARIT.
