KNOWN AS THE THROAT CUTTERS
Not far from Rincon de Guayabitos and in a beautiful jungle valley is a place which was once populated by a race of people known as the Tecoxquines (throat cutters). They have disappeared but they have left behind numerous petroglyphs and many claim their spirits still inhabit the valley. This is where our trip takes us today.
We pack our trusty jeep, a 1985 CJ7, which is equipped just the way we like it. We means me and my pretty traveling companion Vicky. Included for this run is an ice chest packed with ham and cheese sandwiches, chips, sodas, beer, snacks and guests. I will not mention their names so that those who have gone with us in the past can imagine that they are going again.
Off we go. A pit stop for gas and we are heading North on highway 200 and in the direction of Tepic. We pass many fields of corn, tobacco and beans; many groves of mangos, bananas and other fruit. In many places over the highway is a canopy of foliage. It is a great morning and the birds are singing. It is shorts weather as is every day of the year in my paradise, which is Rincon de Guayabitos.
We continue on this scenic highway which I never tire of seeing. Shortly after passing the small village of Puerto de la Lima we see a sign that says "Alta Vista". We turn here. Now onto a graveled road, up over a hill and still climbing. More fields and groves. We see some cattle grazing. The road is graveled and we must travel in 2nd and 3rd gear. Soon we come to our turn off and the road is mostly dirt and a bit rougher. Down a narrow lane lined with fence posts that have become trees again. Now and then a termite nest, some of which will become homes of parrots once the termites have left. More groves on our right and a view of the entire coast to our left.
Reaching a road going to our right we turn. Now the going gets rough. Deep ruts, outcroppings of rock. Groves of fruit on both sides. We start to descend into a valley. Onto a short stretch that has been cobble stoned – by whom? We cross a stream and have to open a gate. More orchards. Another gate. Now we have left the planted areas. We soon arrive at a clearing with a large palapa. We park the jeep. We take a quick coffee break and prepare for a hike.
Crossing the clearing we come to a barrier fence with an opening big enough for us to enter. Archaeology students have erected signs here and there to give what little information is known of the occupants of this mysterious valley.
Here are a few things that are known.
Their drawings on the rocks were made up to 4000 years ago. They were an agricultural society, yet they made war on their neighbors to gain prisoners for sacrifices. They cut the throats of their victims and later used their heads for religious rituals. They believed in various gods and that super powers rose from the earth. They were a light skinned race. (Today locals tell of seeing white Indian ghosts in the night). They made many elaborate crosses on the rocks. Were these Christian or pagan?
Few people visit here. We note a few birds fluttering up the steep sides of the canyon, but hear none. The jungle is silent. There are many very tall palms and trees. We are almost entirely shaded. The trail is easy. From the start we note patterns in the rocks. Swirls, straight lines, most indescribable. What do they mean? On up the trail we go, climbing slightly, then down, then up. We come to a large rock, shaped almost in a human form. Here they say sacrifices were made.
I imagine myself being captured and brought to this place as a prisoner. The priest is looking down on me with unmerciful eyes. His hand is poised with a jagged obsidian knife. He is telling me how fortunate I am to have been chosen for this moment. A moment I could do without.
Breaking away from this horrible thought, we continue up the trail. More petroglyphs, some with many impressions the size of a finger tip. Now and then a crude animal. We cross the stream bed a couple of times. Many strange rock formations are seen.
As we near the sacred area there is a feeling of intensity. Like someone is watching. We only glimpse the sky now and then. Here and there we see small offerings. The Huicholes continue to look upon this area as a holy place and leave offerings and lighted candles to insure prosperity.
Finally we reach our goal. A clear stream flows down through waterways, worn down over thousands of years, forming several pools, one is the size of a small swimming pool. The rock formations are unique. Almost as if they were placed here by human hands. On my first visit, I felt that my hair was raising, my skin tingled and I felt a strange presence. This did not happen again and I don't have any answer. Was offense taken to my first visit, am I now accepted?
We examine a rather large offering area. Several candles in glasses are burning. There are a few coins and a number of native crafts including the famed Ojos de Dios (eyes of gods).
No one lives here. No one is ever here after dark. Our maid lives not far away in Puerta de La Lima. She tells us that now and then at night drums can be heard. Locals tell of two north Americans who decided to spend the night. They fled from the canyon terrified before the night was over. They told of strange blue lights, erie sounds and movements in the jungle. Who knows!
The pool is refreshing, I have swum there several times. We pass a swim this time and return to the jeep. We have a coffee break and continue on our journey, which will take us to Alta Vista and the coffee country. But more of that in another story.
