Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary

Our destination was to camp at the Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary high in the mountains of the Michoacan state.   In case you’re wondering why this is cool, reference Wikipedia:  Monarch butterflies perform annual migrations across North America which have been called “one of the most spectacular natural phenomena in the world”.  Starting in September and October, eastern and northeastern populations migrate from southern Canada and the United States to overwintering sites in central Mexico where they arrive around November. They start the return trip in March, arriving around July. No individual butterfly completes the entire round trip; female monarchs lay eggs for the next generation during the northward migration and at least four generations are involved in the annual cycle.

Google maps had been friendly to us so far on the trip, and when we sat outside our hotel in Guadalajara and typed in “monarch butterfly sanctuary”, the result popped right up and we set on our way.  Whelp.  Turns out that Google thinks the sanctuary is a couple of hours of winding mountain roads from where it actually is.  This includes a long section of cobblestone that vibrated a battery terminal connector right off, so the truck wouldn’t start after a short stop in a small town.  Dmitri got the opportunity to bond with a kind Mexican passerby who helped him troubleshoot and fix, and we were back underway.

Setting off from Guadalajara we thought we would arrive well before sundown but we actually pulled up to the campsite just behind a military barracks after 8pm.  The elevation was well over 8000’ so it was BITTER.

We hastily layered on our winter gear, made camp and boiled some water to dump in Mountain House backpacking meals we brought along in case of just such a situation.  There were a bunch of wild “perritos” (puppies) the military guys tolerated, and whom did not love the idea of a giant gringo dog on their property.  They’d bark and circle around in the bushes and generally harass Ted.  Conversely, the military guys were super cool.  They came over several times to make sure we were OK, and had warm enough gear to survive the night.

We were very glad for our 0-degree (F) gear that night.  Ted was bundled up in his jackets (both of them layered), laying on his off-the-ground bed with a thick blanket underneath him and another thick one wrapped around his body.  The “perritos” kept coming back even in the middle of the night, sniffing around outside the tent.

Teddy burrito

There is a child cuddled up somewhere in here

The next day we slept in, getting happier by the minute as the bright sun warmed our tent.  I had incubated some sort of head cold, and the frigid night did not make matters better.

A dose of Sudafed got me straightened out, and early afternoon we made the short 2km drive to the sanctuary hike start.  There we learned Ted was not allowed to join us, so he went back to the truck.  We were assigned a guide, then hiked about an hour or so deep into the sanctuary where the Monarchs were straight up swarming.  They were so thick, and the views through them so spectacular!  It was a very special, quiet moment.  Even Nina was deferential.

After the hike you’re expected to buy a meal at one of the many little kitchens the locals have set up in the lodge at the base of the hike.  The locals rely on this income for their economy.  We bought our guide and ourselves a fantastic meal, and let Ted hang out on the porch outside the kitchen where the local kids milled around him in awe.

After the meal we all walked back to the truck and were followed by several young kids, one of which was holding a baby.  They asked us if we wanted to give them something for the baby (obviously asking for money).  Nina said that she thought the baby should have her “Emily”, a doll she had in the car.  She brought Emily out to the baby.  The kids were not satisfied with the transaction, but the baby sure seemed happy!

We got back to camp and decided to move camp further from the barracks and “perritos” to a spot that backed up to a pretty and secluded little forrest.  We could no longer see the barracks but were confident it was still safe and hoped we’d sleep better without so much barking and sniffing outside our tent.

We foraged for firewood and were enjoying the cold starry night by the fire when we heard loud crashing footsteps coming down the hillside in the forrest beside us.  We grabbed the hatchet by the fire for a weapon, stepped back, shined our headlamps into the woods and reflecting back at us was a set of 2 eyes staring straight ahead at us and the eyes were spaced far apart.  NOW – here’s a rule of thumb for the outdoorsman – prey have eyes on the sides of their heads.  So if you get a reflection from one eye, it’s probably prey, like a deer or a rabbit or something.  Predators have eyes on the front of their heads.  So if you get a reflection of 2 eyes it’s probably a predator.  And if you get a reflection of 2 eyes spaced far apart it is a BEAR, and you are authorized to pee your pants.  That’s a rule of the outdoors.

OK!  So, there was a bear in the woods.  At near-Olympic speed, we grabbed Nina and virtually threw her into her carseat so that Ted could load in next to her, then we jumped in the front seats and slammed the doors closed.  Then we stared out at the woods.  Nothing.  More nothing.   Dmitri, in true hero-mode, decided he was going to walk over to the military guys and politely inform them that there was a bear in the woods.  He took the hatchet.   I sat in the car and stared at the woods for more nothing, and more nothing.  I glanced the other way and saw Dmitri’s headlamp and a flashlight from a soldier walking our way.  Back to the woods.  Nothing.  Then, all of the sudden, something BIG came out of the woods!  I started honking the horn to alert Dmitri and the soldier and also to scare off the bear.  I was still honking wildly as reality slowly started seeping into my brain….there were 2 big animals.  One of them was white.  A polar bear in Mexico?  Traveling with a black bear?  O…M….G……they were cows.  Cows.  So, cows, at least this particular breed of Mexican cows, have eyes that face forward.   I got out of the car laughing at our idiocy, just as Dmitri and the soldier arrived and saw the “bears”.   The soldier shoo’ed the cows back into the woods.  I have no doubt that those soldiers will be telling the story of the gringos and the bears for some time.