Parque Nacional Barranca Del Cupatitzio

Dude! Go to the park, they said. They were right. 

It’s the Cupatitzio River that runs down a canyon in the city of Uruapan and local residents get to visit for free. We paid 30 pesos each and enjoyed two hours walking around. I made 102 pictures of which a few I offer here to illustrate what a lovely place this is.

Legend has it the founder of the city Friar Juan San Miguel met the Devil at the pond at the head of the canyon and forced him to his knees. I am not the least bit spiritual but this is a lovely place.

Hotel Pie De La Sierra where we are camping is about ten minutes away. We parked GANNET2 on the street about 7:30 of a cool sunny morning. There is no parking lot serving the park so an early start is good. We walked Rusty and left him snug in the van because pets aren’t allowed in the park. We arrived 15 minutes after the opening time on Thursday morning. 

The interior of the park is a series of cobblestone paths radiating from the entrance. There are a bunch of fruit, drink, and taco stands which were almost all empty on our weekday visit. 

Signs say masks are required but we took ours off when we were alone or socially distanced. The few other visitors we met did the same. 

The park is about a mile long and consists of an intricate series of water channels directing the flow of water across and under the paths. It’s quite a feat of engineering.

The park is scrupulously clean with not a trace of trash. There is only one set ofc open toilets near the entrance and that was annoying but not fatal. Especially lucky as we drank a pint of cebadina each:

It’s a local drink made with barley water, tamarind, hibiscus and spices. 

He added sodium carbonate for added fizz after telling us it is very healthy and good for us. 

It was delicious and tasted like a slightly sweet kombucha and gave both of us a mild buzz. $2:50 for a pint each. Highly recommended. 

We powered up the steps like two teenagers giggling while high on dope.

Apparently when Uruapan was a privately owned ranch some bright spark decided to import coffee beans from Ethiopia and they flourished in the mountainous climate here. They make excellent coffee as we found out later. 

These songbirds are highly prized and are trapped for sake so they have been designated endangered and protected. In the park and outside too. 

We enjoyed it all thoroughly. If I lived in Uruapan I would do as some local residents did which is come here for free  to get their exercise power walking. Oh and the field trip. 

We also met one weird dude who said he likes to dive off a platform into the pool thirty feet below. We waited while he prayed. Then he wandered off. Oh well.

We passed a kids playground on the loop back. Two mothers were having a picnic and out of sight their kids were playing unsupervised. 

In the US they would be negligent; in Mexico they are normal. This isn’t a country where kidnapping and rape are the first thoughts that come to mind when small children are left alone to have fun. 

Back to the entrance and out into the street bizarrely named “Culver City,” check Google maps if you don’t believe me. 

Layne walking down Culver City. 

De Mi Tierra (From My Land) was a cafe with two outside tables. Layne stood and waited while I walked the former prisoner in the back of our van. We got back as a table cleared and Rusty plopped in the sidewalk next to us ignoring the fascinated adoration of the wait staff.  He is getting middle aged. I remain a helicopter parent. 

Delicious coffee mildly spiced with cinnamon and orange. We had two cups each on trip of the cebadina so I was high as a kite. 

After I saw another customers plate I really wanted pancakes. Yes yes I know I’m in Mexico but that’s what I wanted. Layne had steak in green sauce ( chile verde). Also superb. 

An adventure filled morning for a small dog. He was delighted to get back to the familiar campground where he could sleep in the sun in the grass. 

We swam the afternoon away. Far from the troubles of the world. Flag day in Mexico. Lucky us. 

Streets of Uruapan.

Seen on the streets of this Mexican City. 




A beggar asking for alms. 

Pig skin turned into sheets of chicharrones (fried pork skin snacks, delicious actually) in a butchers shop window. I’ve never seen them

like that outside a packet. 

Fruit seller who offers chunks of papaya and pineapple covered in hot sauce. Sweet/savory is a much enjoyed combination. 

An appealing coffee shop called “the struggle.” There’s a story there, I know it. 

“¿Photo?” I asked. He smiled. I clicked. I don’t like tripe which is what menudo is. 

Coconut seller outside a public notary. In Latin American countries notaries certify all legal transactions.  It’s a tough job to get but it will set you up for life. Boring as hell though certifying legal transfers all day. 

Toy seller stretching out in his chair. 

Rusty and the anonymous street guy. 

New vices, video games, in a new building. Essential oils sold next door. 

The cathedral complex facing Plaza de Martires, the central square:  

You can usually see hills in the distance. Nighttime lows are fresh and cool after a day of hot sun. 

Entering the city. 

A Token Gringo

Uruapan, a town I’d never heard of until my wife, the inveterate traveler said we must go and relive her youth. She remembered a lush park in the city and little else.  We were going to make up for the shortcomings of her youth and see the town properly. Bye bye beaches and swimming and all things vacation, this retiree has homework. 

The World Capital of Avocado claims the title not because the stuff grows in the city but because the fruit is processed in many sheds in the city. At 5300 feet above sea level we were hoping for cool nights for good sleeping. With 360,000 inhabitants I did not expect to be the sole North American in town Tuesday afternoon but sure enough I appeared to be a statistical irrelevancy of one. 

The journey into town did not go well. The potholes were astonishing. I am not a fan of four wheel drive fads but I wondered how locals got around in sedans such was the rate of lurch and thud in our slow speed home on the narrow streets, reminiscent of driving in Central American cities, where daily living takes to the streets and vehicles, especially stupidly big ones, struggle to get by. 

Then I lost a million dollars. “I see a KFC!” my distracted navigator shouted. “Rubbish,” I replied stoutly defending my belief that this was a city clearly outside the orbit of world franchises. “I bet you a million bucks,” I said impulsively. I lost. Through the pine tree trunks the dreaded logo appeared. I was bankrupt. I have suffered this fate quite a few times in 28 years of marriage so I was hopeful she would once again cancel the debt, in the fullness of time. 

Then my phone rang. It was my health insurance agent in Boca Raton Florida. I kid you not.  My health care supplement blah blah blah was canceled because Liberty Mutual an oddly named company was dropping Florida thus not liberating me mutually in an unexpected one sided demonstration of the power of Corporate America. The voice droned on. Thirty dollars less…same supplemental coverage…Blah blah blah. The newly minted millionaire to my right put the agent through the wringer as she always does and they both got testy on the van speaker phone. “Your call keeps cutting out!” Meanwhile the Tata Lazaro bus line seemed to be developing a desire to drive us off the road in a pincer movement with three of these oddly named vehicles at the same time. Save the Tatas! I thought to myself as I tried to get out of the traffic. 

Sod this for a laugh, I need time with my therapy dog. Rusty loves it when I put the Promaster in park. Walk time sure as Pavlov tortured canines. 

I have learned grumpiness is a visible condition so when I snagged my camera and the Mexican leash ( the one we used to call the park leash as it is fixed at six feet long) Herself said sweetly she would cancel my million dollar debt and stay aboard GANNET2 to talk to her friend Stacey who hasn’t retired yet and is stuck in a salt mine in California. 

I’d never heard of therapy cities before and perhaps they need to be named. Uruapan is one such. The sun shone, people smiled at each other and the tripe man waved cheerfully but not enough to make me ever want to eat menudo again. By the time we got back Rusty was officially dead and I was ready to tuck into crispy rolls and Oaxaca cheese that had leaped into my hands unbidden during the walk. 

IOverlander sent us to the campground at a delicious old pile of a hotel overlooking the city. The camping area is somewhat on a slope  and if you don’t know what a Jake Brake is the truck drivers pelting downhill outside the old hotel  compound’s walls will teach you to enjoy the calamitous sounds of a dustbin factory exploding as they deploy the  engine exhaust to slow themselves down. The water and electrical outlets are dubious and the showers and toilets are on the horizon somewhere far beyond the hotel’s inner sanctum. The pool is icy cold and we absolutely love the place. We pad around the silent corridors and swim like lonely billionaires in our own eccentric castle. 

Who needs beaches? We have the entire city of Uruapan to our solitary gringo selves. I can’t believe our luck. Worth a million bucks any day. 

Lunch at the market meat and vegetable ( cactus I think) tacos.